He pulled away, his c**k leaving my mouth with a pop, and then he shoved the underwear off, stepping out of them and toward me. Naked, Roth was a huge, hard specimen of perfect manhood, cut and toned muscles and sun-bronzed skin. The sight of him made my mouth go dry, made my pu**y clench and drip with desire, my core going wet as the fantasy of his powerful warrior’s body covering mine became a reality. I watched as he crawled onto the bed, my heart in my throat. His c**k was a long, jutting shaft, bobbing and swaying from side to side as he prowled over me, forcing me to lie down as he moved over me. I could barely swallow past the pounding of my heart, barely breathe, but then his mouth was on mine and I didn’t need to breathe, because he was my breath in that moment, his hot hard c**k sliding naturally into my hands, tied in front of me and trapped between us.

“Kyrie…I need to feel you. Need to kiss your skin. I have to taste your beauty.” His voice murmured, rumbled, and I could only sigh in response, arch my back, and caress his length with my lace-bound hands.

He lowered his face to my throat, his tongue sliding against the hollow, tickling and hot and tracing. Another kiss, this to the slice of skin between my tits, followed by half a dozen more slow kisses over the round swell of my boob to the edge of my areola, and then he was tugging the cup down and baring my breast and laving his tongue over my nipple, which puckered and tightened to a stiff peak in his mouth.

He grabbed my wrists and pulled them up over my head. Tugged the other cup down and kissed that nipple into taut attention.

“God, Kyrie. You are beautiful in this red silk.” Roth’s voice hummed against my skin. “But now it’s time for it to come off.”

He gripped the bustier cups, and then, with a single strong jerk of his hands, the silk parted like paper to bare my front.

“You…you like ripping my clothes off me.”

“Yes. I do.” He brushed the ragged edges apart, and he licked and kissed my boobs as if he couldn’t get enough of them. His eyes met mine. “Are you wet for me?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” I said, in a normal voice. “I’m wet. I’ve been wet all day.”


“All day?”

I nodded. “Since the moment I saw you sitting at that breakfast table, sipping your tea and looking properly English. You are the sexiest man I’ve ever known, Valentine. I’ve never wanted a man so bad in all my life.”

“And now you’re naked for me.” His gaze skipped down my bare body, resting on my pu**y and then back up.

“I’m still wearing my shoes,” I said. “So I’m not totally naked.”

He twisted in place to glance at my feet, which were still clad in the strappy sandals. “So you are. We’ll have to remedy that.”

Roth slid off me, brought my foot in front of him, and unbuckled the sandal, then drew it off, tossed it aside. He kissed my ankle, the top of my foot, kissed my calf while he unbuckled the other sandal and tossed it to join the other. His lips slid up my leg to the soft underside of my knee, and then I placed my leg over his shoulder while he continued to plant a line of kisses up the inside of my thigh. His tongue lapped at the opening of my pu**y, and I shivered.

“Wait…my other leg. It feels left out.”

Roth’s laugh was an amused rumble. “That won’t do at all, will it?”


He knelt between my legs, one knee hooked over his shoulder, the other foot bent toward him. A kiss to the tender arch of my foot, tickling, another to the side of my foot, and then the top just above my toes, and then the ankle. Now both my knees were resting on his shoulders, and his mouth was pressed to my opening in a wet, lapping kiss, his tongue curved to slide between my slick labia, the tip of his tongue parting my lips and nudging my sensitive, swollen clit. I gasped aloud, arched my back, and his hands caught my hips, lifted my lower half off the bed, bringing my pu**y to his mouth and swiping at my core with fat licks of his tongue. I gasped again, fists clenched, and then let a whimper slip from my mouth, arched my spine, and curled my legs to help him lift my body closer. His stubble was delicious, a sandpaper roughness against my soft skin as his face moved and his fingers dug into the flesh and muscle of my ass, and his tongue speared inside me again and again.

The heat and pressure building in my core became an inferno, my gasps and whimpers becoming shrieks and moans, and then I was there, shuddering on the verge of orgasm, his name on my lips. But then he dropped me to the mattress and his mouth left my cleft, and his name turned into a curse.

“Fuck! Roth, please! Don’t stop…don’t tease me anymore, just let me come, let me come in your mouth….”

“In my mouth?” He nipped at my tit, teeth pinching with just a hint of pain. “Oh, no. Not in my mouth. The next time you come, it will be around my cock. And you’ll be screaming.”

“Then give it to me, Roth.”

He bit my other nipple, eliciting a shriek of protest, which turned into a moan as he sucked the thick peak into his mouth and suckled it, soothing the sting and sending a line of aching pleasure tugging at my core. “No, my lovely. Not yet. I don’t think you’re ready yet.”

“I am — I can’t take it anymore. You’ve been torturing me for days, please…I need you inside me.” I moved to put my arms around him, but his fingers pinioned my wrists and held them against the pillow over my head. “You want me to beg? Fine, I’ll f**king beg. Please, Valentine. I need you. I need your c**k inside me. Please f**k me. Please.”

He growled, a wordless sound of disapproval. “No, Kyrie. I told you once. I won’t f**k you. I hate that word as a term for sex. At least, where it concerns you. You are the most precious thing in my life, Kyrie. You deserve far, far more than mere f**king. So try that again.”

I couldn’t get all that out again, so I wrapped my legs around his waist and lifted my hips, seeking his hardness with my softness, finding his huge hard c**k and sliding my slick heat along it, grinding against him. “Please, Valentine. Just…please. No more games. Make love to me.”

He let me grind on him a few moments more, and then he stilled me with a hand on my hipbone. “Yes. God, yes.” He pivoted his hips, dragging his c**k through my labia, coating himself in my juices. Then, slowly, so slowly, he drew back, gripped himself in one hand and pressed the tip to my clit, slid it down my opening, and nudged into me. “Shit, Kyrie. I’m barely even inside you, and you’re already tight.”