“Yes, please. Give it to me.”

“Anything you want, Kyrie,” Roth said.

He bent over me, kissed my spine, reached around my waist as he pulled his c**k completely out of me, then dipped his fingers into my pu**y. His fingers coated, he slipped his erection back into me and resumed a slow gliding rhythm, a lazy rhythm. He brought his hand around to my ass, parted my cheeks with one hand, and smeared our juices on my ass**le, rubbing the tight knot of muscle with his fingertip. I forced myself to relax, leaning closer to the bed to spread myself apart for him. The pressure of his massaging finger increased, and then I felt myself pierced, and a helpless whining gasp left my throat.

“Yes, Valentine. Just like that.”

“Oh, no, darling. This is just the beginning.” He wiggled his finger, and I felt the world shake with shattering tremors. “Grab a pillow and brace yourself with one hand. Use the other to touch yourself. Touch your pu**y, Kyrie.”

I reached forward and grabbed a pillow, shoved it under my chest and braced my forehead on my arm, slid my other hand between my legs, found my clit, and circled it. Immediately the earthquakes inside me intensified, shaking my belly and tightening my core, sending white-hot streaks of lightning through me. Roth stroked into me faster now, his c**k slamming and sliding, one hand gripping my hip, the other slipping his long middle finger slowly and carefully into my ass**le until I felt his knuckles brush me. My fingers swiped in fast, sloppy circles around my aching, swollen clit, my hips rocked back and forth, my breath came in short gasps and occasional moans.

Roth began to groan in tandem with his thrusts, pulling me by the hip with ever-increasing force until his hips met my ass with resounding slaps. I couldn’t move with him, not anymore, not with my fingers on my clit and his finger in my ass and his c**k inside me, pounding into me. I was so full, feeling him inside me, behind me, above me, everywhere, erasing all the world except for him and me, everything except this nascent detonation building inside me and Roth’s voice joining mine with vulnerable moans.

Our voices merged, groans coming in perfect synchronicity as our bodies merged. I felt his c**k thicken inside me, felt his rhythm stutter and grow desperate, slamming in, pulling back, hesitating at the crest of his withdrawal, and then we both moaned as he ground into me. His finger began to match the motion of our bodies, and I felt him lean over me, felt something hot and wet drip onto his finger and my ass, and then the slide of his digit in and out of me became slick and easy, and now he was f**king me in both my entrances, pounding into my ass and my pu**y all at once and I was full and complete and exploding and shattering and all I knew was Roth, his name, his body, his presence.

“Yes…yes…yes…ohfuckyes!” I screamed, and then bit the pillow as my body clenched with the first wave of an orgasm so powerful it was painful. “Valentine! Oh, my god, Valentine, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“Never, Kyrie…never.” His voice was a ragged murmur, breathless, gasping, fraught with moans at each syllable. He pulled back, the thick mushroom head of his perfect c**k poised at my entrance, waiting for a beat, two, three…and then he crushed home with a primal bellow, and I felt him unleash within me. “I’m coming, Kyrie!” he shouted.

“Yes, Valentine, come inside me! Come hard for me, baby, let me have it all….”


A hot, wet spurt of his come splashed inside me, and he was grinding into me, his hips flush hard against my ass, his finger deep in my pulsing ass**le, my every muscle and fiber and shred of consciousness contracting and expanding, my climax a soul-searing fire inside me. He shot into me again, and I clenched around him, squeezing his massive, driving, sliding, throbbing c**k with everything I had. I was f**ked breathless, barely able to even gasp at the raw potency of my orgasm, for the rapturous bliss of his c**k and the feel of him coming inside me, filling me, knowing he was as torn apart by this as I was.

Another hard thrust, and he came a third time, and I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t come any harder. But then I felt him pull out of my pu**y and withdraw his finger, wipe his c**k on me, smearing my ass**le with our juices, and then he pressed his tip against me. He was softening but still hard, and I was somehow ready for this, wanting it, needing it. I took the tip of his cock, relaxed, and took a bit more. It burned and stretched, but he held still and let me adjust, and then began moving, just slightly. I was so tight around him that he was pinched nearly immobile, and I was unable to even scream, my fading climax surging to a sudden and gut-wrenching madness. I shuddered and rocked forward, shivering all over and trying to scream, but his c**k was in my ass**le and making me wild, making me ferociously and primally animalistic. Something like a snarl ripped from my throat as I came again, harder and harder, split apart by him and, impossibly, taking more and more of him, knowing I still only had the tip of him inside me and that I was being driven to insanity by that little bit.

He didn’t thrust, merely gyrated enough to provide pressure, and I felt his c**k throb and heard him groan long and low in his chest.

My climax began to fade. “Out, out, take it out, please….” I gasped.

Roth complied immediately, and I slumped forward, wrung out and f**ked utterly boneless. He moved to his back, slid an arm toward me, and gathered me up in a warm, implacably strong, cocoon-safe embrace. “Kyrie….” he whispered, “Dear god, Kyrie.”

“I’m dead.” I was limp in his arms, barely able to even form words, still shaking with aftershocks. “You killed me. You f**ked me dead.”

“I didn’t—”

I spoke over him. “Shut up, Valentine. I meant that as a good thing. I know you care. I know my worth to you. You’ve proved it.” I forced my eyes open, forced myself to move so I could meet his eyes. “So now we can f**k. You can take me in your shower. In your car. Anywhere and everywhere.”

“Kyrie….” I saw some strange conflict warring in his sky-blue eyes.

“You wanted me, so you took me, Valentine Roth. You told me you owned me, and then you went and proved that you’re right. You own me.” I knew I was being reckless, blurting out the contents of my heart, speaking without any kind of filter. It was crazy and dangerous, but it was all I had. “Here’s what I want: feed me, bathe me, and then f**k me again until I can’t move.”

Long moments passed, Roth’s expression now shuttered. I knew him enough to realize he was thinking. Considering. Coming to some decision. He nodded. “I like that plan. I’ll add one thing to it, though.”