He didn’t answer, turning away from me to pull open the bottom drawer of his nightstand. I was quaking all over; my body wracked with tremoring aftershocks, my pu**y needing him back in me. His c**k was tall and painfully hard, wet with my grool, bobbing as he moved. I couldn’t help wrapping my hand around him and fondling him, my palm slipping down his coated length.

“A-ha.” He came back up with a small box, still taped shut, unopened. He ripped the top open, pulled free the packaging to reveal a brand-new bullet vibrator. “I bought this a couple of days ago. I’ve been meaning to use it on you.”

The bullet was a short, fat oval of soft pink rubber with a loop of thin black wire at the back end. There was also a round remote control with a triple infinity symbol containing the settings buttons. He pushed a button, and the bullet hummed to life.

“Hands and knees, Kyrie.”

I didn’t hesitate, assuming the position he’d demanded. He knelt behind me, slipped the bullet between my legs and inserted it into my soaked cleft, pulled it out and then pushed it back in. I gasped at the buzz of it on my walls, but my pu**y was stretched to accommodate Roth’s cock, and the tiny vibrator barely registered. Then he swept the tip of it over my clit, and I definitely felt that. But he wasn’t done. A circle of my clit, twice, three times, just enough to get me arching my back and moaning, and then he slipped it into me once more, getting it slick with my juices.

“Ready, love?” Roth asked.

I opened my mouth to respond, to tell him I was ready for anything, but it was a rhetorical question. He pushed the bullet against the tight-clenched rosebud of my ass**le, and I forced myself to relax those muscles, pushed my hips back to take the madly buzzing device.

“Oh. Oh god. Oh god.” I ducked my head, arching my spine and worked my hips to open myself for him.

“Yes, Kyrie. Take it for me.”

He pushed it incrementally deeper, then held it there. I felt him lean over, glanced to see him flipping open the cap of a bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount onto the bullet and around my opening. He pulled the vibrator back out a little, smearing it with the lube, then gently but firmly worked it back in.

“Jesus, Valentine, I haven’t even had coffee yet.”


“You don’t need coffee, babe. You just need to take this vibrator up your ass for me.”

“I’m trying,” I said, then groaned as I felt him push it deeper, feeling myself stretch and burn.

He pulled it back out slightly, applied more lube, and then pushed gently and slowly, feeding it into me. He began a rhythmic pulsation, working it in and out, a centimeter out and then back in, one step out, two steps in. I felt his fingers slip into my pu**y, delving deep and then withdrawing to smear my juices onto my clit. A bolt of pleasure shot through me, and the sudden clitoral stimulation opened my back entrance that much more, letting him work the widest part of the bullet into me.

“Fucking hell, Valentine, I’m not sure I can take any more of it,” I mumbled, head ducked, body shaking, hips rocking forward with the insistent rhythm of his circling fingers.

“Yes, you can. It’s almost in now. You can take it all.”

The pleasure of his fingers at my pu**y made the burning stretch of the vibrator inside me all the more bearable, and then, slowly, the burn faded and was replaced by a deep, dark, dirty ache. I’d felt this before, this bone-deep quake of ecstasy, and I knew it was only a vague precursor of what was to come. I felt something slip at my rear entrance, and I knew the vibrator was all the way in, only the short loop of cord remaining outside me.

“Off the bed,” Roth commanded.

I slowly and gingerly moved off the bed, the fat, buzzing vibrator shoved up my ass**le making me feel heavy and encumbered, clumsy and desperate. I stood on shaking legs, facing him. “Now what?”

“Lean over the bed.” His gaze was hot, dark, almost angry. Not angry, I realized. Just…intense. Virulently aroused, crazed with passion. I turned toward the bed, but was stopped by Roth’s hand on my shoulder. “Wait. I have a better idea. Come on.”

He nudged me away from the bed, toward his walk-in closet. Like mine, the room was too enormous to be really called a “closet.” The walls were lined with shelves and racks, shirts and suits hanging in neat, color-coordinated rows, jeans folded on shelves, shoes lined up against the wall on the floor. On one wall was a three-way, floor-to-ceiling mirror, and it was to this that Roth directed me. Each step made the bullet shift inside me, and my knees threatened to give out.

“Feet apart, bend over, hands on the mirror.” Roth’s voice was low, a grating murmur.

I stood in front of the center mirror, staring at the vision of us. Roth was behind me, six and a half feet of Norse-god perfection, his face all sharp, clean lines and hard angles, pale blue eyes flashing with his arousal. His carved chest swelled with each deep breath, his skin tanned golden-brown, contrasting against my own slightly paler flesh. I was on full display, standing straight. My hair was mussed, tangled, and just-fucked sexy, my dark blue eyes lidded with the aching pleasure of the bullet inside me. My cheeks were flushed pink, my boobs heavy and round, my areolae and my erect ni**les thick and pink. My wide, strong thighs were visibly shaking, my shaved pu**y peeking out, a slight triangular gap showing between thighs and core.

“Such perfect beauty,” Roth said. His hands rested on my shoulders, then slid down my arms, gripped my hips, around to my belly, carved up my ribs to cup my br**sts. “And all mine.”

“All yours,” I agreed, grabbing one of his hands and pushing it down between my thighs to touch me.

He pulled his hand free, threaded his fingers into my hair. Shoved me forward so I was bent double. “Spread your legs, Kyrie. Hands on the mirror.”

I swallowed hard, putting my palms to the mirror and shifting my feet apart. I could see us in the mirror, turning my head to watch us from the side. I watched as he gripped his c**k in his hand, nudged the thick head against my labia. My mouth fell open, and I gasped as he stroked the opening of my pu**y and then smashed his head against my clit, making me cry out as a thrill lanced through me. He still had one hand buried in my hair, gripping a thick handful near my scalp.

He used my hair to pull my head back. “Watch us, Kyrie.”

“I am.”

“Don’t close your eyes. Watch us.”

“Okay,” I said, “I am. I’m watching.”

He glanced to the side, and our eyes met in the reflection. He teased my opening with his tip once more, and then slowly pushed himself into me. I let out a long groan as he entered me, wanting to hang my head as he slid deep but unable to do so because of his grip on my hair. Fully impaled, I felt the vibrator buzzing and felt his c**k inside me, only a thin membrane of skin separating them. I was bursting open, filled past endurance, my pu**y stretched and split once more by his enormous cock. I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t close my eyes and couldn’t move. I could only watch helplessly in the mirror as he drew back, I couldn’t take my eyes off his dark, wet-gleaming c**k as it slid out of me. I drew a shuddering breath finally when he pounded into me, my ass cheeks jiggling with the force of his impact.