10
OWNED
Roth tied the lace around my wrists, loose enough that it didn’t hurt, but tight enough that I was well and truly bound. Tied up. Totally at his mercy. I tested the bonds, and knew that I was held fast.
Despite knowing I was perfectly safe with Valentine Roth, I felt a shimmer of fear. I’d never been tied up before. I’d never been so completely within a man’s thrall before. In that moment, I knew I would do almost anything he asked of me. And I was okay with that, because I knew he wouldn’t ask me to do anything I wouldn’t want, wouldn’t enjoy.
A growl left his lips, and he reached for me, grabbing my ass and jerking me against him, cupping the back of my neck and my ass to hold me flush against him, his jeans rough against my skin, his cock thick behind the denim, hard and straining. Roth plundered my mouth with his, a kiss so furiously desperate that I was left breathless when he pulled away. He palmed both cheeks of my ass and lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, draped my bound hands behind his head, leaning down to kiss him, demanding his passion with my own kiss. He took a step, another, and then leaned forward, letting my weight drop me to the bed, my wrists at the back of his neck pulling him to me, keeping the kiss unbroken, mouths moving, our lips tasting and teeth nipping, tongues merging and tangling, and I felt heat in my belly, an ache that had never been sated, a desire made volcanically potent by his torturous teasing with fingers and mouth, never giving me the fullness of his body.
Roth ducked out of my arms, backed away, shedding his blazer. I rose to a sitting position, reaching for him, grabbing a fistful of T-shirt, keeping him within in my reach. I tugged up with both hands, knotted in the cotton, and he bent to let me pull the shirt off him. Next I reached for his pants, leaning in to kiss his breastbone, and as my lips passed over his chest, I felt the pounding of his heart, a staccato rhythm of nerves to mirror my own. He was outwardly calm and in control, despite what his pulse revealed. He stood still, staring down at me with a hint of a smile curving his mouth, as I fumbled with the button of his jeans and then, somewhat awkwardly with my tied wrists, lowered his zipper. I pulled the denim down around his knees, and he stepped out of them. With my bound wrists I could only get one hand curled inside the elastic of his boxer-briefs. I pulled them down in front, revealing the broad, purplish head of his thick cock waiting for me. I used the elastic to pull him closer, and then I bent over and licked the drop of clear liquid from his tip, then wrapped my lips around him, tasting him, salty and springy-soft.
He pulled away, his cock 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 pussy 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 cock 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 cock 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 pussy 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 pussy, 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?”
“No.”
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 pussy 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 fucking beg. Please, Valentine. I need you. I need your cock inside me. Please fuck me. Please.”
He growled, a wordless sound of disapproval. “No, Kyrie. I told you once. I won’t fuck 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 fucking. 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 cock 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 cock 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.”
“You’ll fit. Just…go slow.”
“Don’t worry, love, I’ll never hurt you.”
“I know.” I held still and breathed in his scent, staring up at his eyes as they locked on mine. “More.” I moved against him, rolling my hips to take more of him.
He groaned low in his chest. “More?” Roth’s eyes were hooded, his pale blue gaze never wavering from mine as he inched himself deeper, his thick shaft filling me to aching fullness. “Like that?”
Once I caught my breath, I shook my head. “No. Deeper. More.” He pushed in, a slow, aching penetration. I gasped, a high-pitched inbreath of surprise as he filled me. Holy shit. I felt like I was about to split apart, a burning ache that quickly turned to ecstasy as I adjusted to his size. “Yes, like that. God, you’re fucking huge.”
He grinned at me in the candlelit haze. “Can you take more?”
My eyes widened. I’d felt his girth with my hands, stroked his length, but that couldn’t prepare me for the reality of the way he’d feel inside me. I could only incline my head in a slight nod, and then he leaned down to kiss me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and palming my breast as he stroked fully into me. Holy hell. I couldn’t breathe, aching, burning, stretched, pierced. I forced my breath in, and out, and then I blinked as my head cleared, and I absorbed the steel-and-silk of his cock inside me. He cupped my breast, then dragged my nipple between two fingers, sending a small quiver through me. He still hadn’t moved, but I was shaking with delirium at the way he felt inside me, even motionless.
I planted my feet on the mattress and rolled my hips, sliding him partway out and then back in, and I sighed. “Move with me, Valentine. Please.”
He groaned, touched his forehead to mine, released my wrists and planted his hands just beneath my raised arms. “Don’t you dare move a muscle, Kyrie. Lie still. Perfectly still. Just take me.” He drew out almost all the way, and paused there. “Don’t speak, except to say my name.”
I nodded, fists clenching in the effort to hold still, the slow slide as he drew out sending a frenzy of quivering thrills through me, putting alight my need to move, to feel him glide inside me. But I remained motionless, at least until he brushed his lips over mine, breathing with me, tongue flicking out to trace my lips. And then I couldn’t help but kiss him back, and he took my kiss and multiplied it, giving in to need, his cock poised just inside me, only our mouths moving.
We kissed with ferocious intensity, mouth clashing, tongues tangling, breath coming ragged and harsh.
And then, matching a thrust of his tongue into my mouth, he stroked into me, spearing me with his massive cock, sliding slowly so his head spread my pussy apart and took him into me to the root. Our hips met, and I was frantic to move, shaking all over.
“Roth….”
“Was that good, Kyrie?” He withdrew, pinched my nipple between the fingers of one hand. “You want it again?” I almost nodded, but didn’t. I just gave him all the desperation I felt in one pleading gaze. His brow furrowed, and he glided into me, smoothly and slowly, and this time I shrieked, a breathless sound. “You take me so beautifully, Kyrie. You take all of me and want more. Don’t come yet, baby. Don’t come yet. Don’t you dare come until I tell you to.”
I swallowed hard and forced myself to remain still, hands clenched over my head, legs extended and spread apart to accommodate his trim hips. “Valentine…ohhh….” I was close.
He knew it. Surely he felt it in the throbbing quiver of my pussy, the way my walls clenched around him, the way I couldn’t slow my breathing, the way my hips were rising and falling on their own in a slight flutter, despite my mental commands to stay still.
But he was breathing hard, too, despite only having thrust into me a few times. Every muscle was tensed, making him a skin-soft sculpture of rock kneeling above me. His mouth covered my breast, his tongue sliding over my nipple, sucking my boob into his mouth and making me inhale sharply, and then he did it to the other boob, and then he was squeezing my tits together and licking at both nipples at once, and I was helpless, unable to stay still, my spine curving by itself, lifting my tits to his hot, wet mouth.
He moved, driving his hips against mine, and this time when his thick, hard, throbbing cock pierced me, I shrieked, and it was a loud sound, splitting the quiet room. “Yes! Valentine…oh, god.”
“That was more than just my name, Kyrie.”
“I know…I can’t help it.”
He pistoned into me again, and I moaned even louder. “You can say whatever you want. Just keep still.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Another slow thrust, and another, then a pause. “Because this time I only want to feel your tight little pussy around me. Nothing else. Just the tightness of your cunt.” I hated that word usually. But from Roth, it sounded right. I wasn’t sure why, but it did.
He pushed in yet again, and this time he started a rhythm, an agonizingly slow pace meant to make me insane and succeeding. I moaned with each stroke, fighting to stay motionless as Roth teased and tortured me with glacially slow thrusts, filling me inch by inch, splitting me apart with his slick, hard cock, then withdrawing just as slowly and leaving me aching with emptiness, dearly needing to move to bring him back inside me, as if his erection filling me was all that I needed to be compete.
I felt the sheen of sweat that coated his body, heard his breathing coming in ragged pants, and felt his body shaking as he fought to hold the torturously slow pace he’d set for himself.
“Faster, Valentine. Don’t hold back. Give me all of you.”
“I’ll hurt you.”
“No, you won’t.”
He levered up to stare down at me, still thrusting slowly. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. God, yes. Please. Harder. Faster.”
He groaned and put his weight on one hand, pulled my arms down over his head to rest on his shoulders. “Hold on to me, Kyrie.”
I held on.
He sucked in a breath and let it out in a slow groan of relief as he started moving faster, incrementally increasing his pace. I pulled at him, wishing I could touch him, stroke his skin, hold his hips and clutch his hair. Instead, all I could do was hold on his neck with my bound wrists and focus on feeling him, focus on holding still.
Faster and faster, each stroke ripping a gasp from me, until he was pounding into me and I was shrieking, my voice raised in a nonstop series of screams. My tits bounced as he fucked into me, and I felt his cock fill me, pull out, fill me, slamming deep and withdrawing in a frenzied rhythm of primal fury.
And I loved it.
Oh, god, I loved it. It was a glorious loss of control, it was Valentine Roth giving in and abandoning all hold on himself.
Lightning struck in a thousand scintillating sunbursts inside me, heat and pressure wed to become nova-hot explosions that weren’t orgasms but the bursting of pleasure inside me as that climax neared.
“Valentine, oh, god, Valentine, I’m almost there, I’m so close.” My voice was breathless, raw from moans and whimpers and shrieks.
“Not yet.”
“Please?”
I clenched around him with my inner muscles, clamping onto his thrusting, sliding cock with every ounce of strength I had in my vaginal muscles. I was rewarded by a protracted groan from Roth, who abruptly slowed his pace, and instead of thrusting hard and fast, he slammed into me once, hard and slow, pulled out, and then slammed in again, his body tensed and trembling.
I felt his cock throb inside me at each slow, deliberate, pounding thrust, and I knew he was close. I released my vaginal muscles as he pulled out, and tensed them when he thrust in, matching him, moving in the only way I could, clutching him so he could barely pull out.
“Kyrie…god, the way you do that with your pussy…it makes me crazy.” He pressed a sloppy, passionate kiss to my lips, and I felt him trembling as wildly as I was, shaking all over, holding back, determined to draw this out as long as possible, despite how long we’d already tortured ourselves.
I felt my body spasming as climax stole over me, and I had to fight to push it back, hold it off, but it was impossible, like trying to push against a tectonic plate. “I can’t…I can’t stop it, Valentine. I have to come. I can’t…ohfuckohgod…I can’t—” I tried once more to hold it back, but it was in vain. I felt the orgasm seizing my body, striking my nerves like hammers, every pleasure point on my body pulsing with brilliance.
He growled. “Not yet, Kyrie. Not yet.”
“I can’t stop it!” I protested. “I have to come…have to…please!”
Roth’s thrusts were spasmodic and slow, and as he spoke, he bent over me, nearly collapsing, and then straightened his arms, tensed his abs, and paused with just the tip of his cock inside me, his body trembling, muscles rock-hard.
And then, with a shout, Valentine thrust into me, and I felt him explode. “Now, Kyrie! Come with me!”
I came, and I screamed. It wasn’t a small breathless little shriek—oh no, this was a full-voiced scream, a sound louder than any I’d ever made in my life, a primal scream of raw ecstasy. White light flashed on my closed eyelids, and my entire body was shaken by pulsating waves of explosive pleasure. I felt Roth slamming into me, his hips thrusting madly as he came and came and came, his hot seed flooding into me, stream after stream jetting against my walls. In the throes of an earth-shaking climax, all control was forgotten, and I wrapped my heels around his back and ground my hips against his, my pussy clamped tight around his cock, my mouth against his shoulder, biting and sucking and kissing as I was wrenched and twisted and wrung by an orgasm that never seemed to end.
When it did end, it wasn’t all at once, but gradually, a slow fading, a spiral drift down from the heights of heaven.
Eventually, Roth was limp above me, his weight partially braced so as not to crush me, and we were both panting and sweating. After a moment, Roth rolled off me and flopped to his back.
We lay side by side, panting, for several minutes, not speaking, reveling in the glow of bliss.
My eyes closed, drowsing for a time I didn’t bother measuring, I didn’t see him move, but I felt him untie the lace binding my wrists. I turned over and rested my head on his shoulder, felt his arm curl around my waist and his hand cup my ass, holding me close. “That was fucking incredible, Valentine.”
“‘Fucking incredible’ doesn’t do it justice.” He craned his neck aside to look me in the eyes. “‘Fucking incredible’ doesn’t do you justice.”
I traced my fingers over his pectoral muscles, across the ridged wonderland of his abs, and found his manhood. “You have the most amazing cock. For real.”
He chuckled. “I’m glad you think so.”
“I wasn’t sure I could take it all,” I admitted, gently, almost idly, caressing him, toying with him, feeling him ever-so-gradually thicken and harden.
“But you did.”
“Will I be allowed to participate next time?” I asked.
“Perhaps.” I heard the smile, but my eyes were locked on his cock, watching in rapt fascination as he grew under my touch.
“You’re getting hard already.”
“You make me hard. I just had you, but I need to be inside you again.” He lay still, letting me touch him, fondle him, stroke him until he was fully erect.
I shifted so I could use both hands on him, cupping his heavy balls in one hand, clutching his erect length with the other. I caressed him slowly, squeezing around his broad head and loosening my grip as I stroked downward. I slid my body down his, resting my cheek on his stomach, watching him grow bigger and harder with each stroke of my fist down his glistening shaft. Wrapping my lips around him, I kept my jaw spread wide open, and I took him into my mouth, tasted us on him, bobbing him as deep as I could take him, then withdrawing, fucking with my mouth until he was groaning and lifting his hips into my rhythm.
And then, of course, he pulled me away. “You seem very determined to make me come in your mouth, Kyrie.”
I rested my head on his shoulder again and smiled up at him. “Not necessarily. I just like seeing how long you’ll let me suck on you before you stop me.”
“Do you want me to come in your mouth?”
I shrugged. “Sometime, yes. Now? No. Now I want your cock inside me.”
“You marked me, Kyrie.”
I lifted up on one elbow and glanced at him in surprise. “I did?”
He nodded, pointing at a large dark mark on his shoulder. “You did.”
I grinned. “Oh. I didn’t mean to.”
“I’ve never let anyone mark me before. No one. Not ever. I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
I frowned. “It’s just a hickey, Roth. And it’s not visible.”
“True. But I did tell you not to move.”
I met his gaze. “Yes, you did. But we were both coming at that point, and I just…couldn’t stop myself. I had to touch you somehow. Had to kiss you.”
“That doesn’t mean leave a mark on my body.”
I sat up. “Are you really mad about it?”
He sat up too. “Mad? No. But I think I’ll have to punish you somehow.”
My body tensed. “Punish me? How?”
He tilted his head, thinking. “On your hands and knees. Now.” I didn’t react right away, wondering what his plan was, and he reached over and pinched my nipple, just hard enough to startle me. “Now, Kyrie.”
I pivoted around to face the head of the bed, and then rocked forward onto my hands and knees, head turned to watch him. My hair was still in a ponytail, hanging over one shoulder, and Roth shifted, lifting up and gently tugging the rubber band out of my hair. I shook it out, and then feathered my fingers through it so it fell in golden waves.
Roth’s eyes betrayed his enjoyment as he gazed at me, on my hands and knees in front of him, hair loose, and eyes curious and nervous but not afraid. “So beautiful.” He moved to kneel behind me, caressed my ass with one hand on each globe. “Especially this. I love every part of your body, Kyrie, but your ass is particularly perfect.”
“There’s no way in hell I can take you back there, Roth,” I told him.
He shook his head. “No, I know that. But you can take other things. My finger, for instance. Or a vibrator. Or my tongue.” He smoothed his hand in circles over the round expanse of my ass. “But I’m not going to do any of that. Not yet, at least.”
“What are you—” I started, but I was cut off by a sharp smack, the impact of his hand on my ass a loud, resounding clap. “SHIT! That hurt, Roth!”
He caressed the spot where he’d spanked me, and then, while I watched anxiously, slid his hand to the other side of my butt and caressed the globe, circling once, twice…and then smack! I shrieked again, rocked forward by the slap of his hand on the generous muscle of my ass. Immediately he soothed it, and then put both palms to my ass, circled, circled, and then gave me dual slaps, hard enough that I knew I’d be reddened, and then his soothing hands were gentle once more.
I tensed as he caressed my backside, expecting another smack, so when his index and middle fingers slid between my legs and into my drenched opening, I moaned in sudden pleasure. And that was when he smacked my ass. I shrieked as the contrast of pleasure and pain braided together and rifled through me, and the shriek turned to a gasp as he repeated the move, circling my clit with his fingers and slapping one cheek and then the other, alternating sides and then smoothing. While his right hand spanked and soothed my ass, driving me forward and drawing whimpers of protest from me, the fingers of his left hand were circling my clit in maddening circles, then diving into my channel and fucking me once, twice, three times, and then pulling out to circle once more. The pleasure and the pain were at odds, piercing me and sliding past each other, curling around each other, pleasure taking over when he pressed fingertips to my throbbing clit, replaced by the shock of sharp stings as his hand spanked and slapped.
I was confused by the sensations, unable to deny the pleasure yet unable to separate it from the stinging pain of being spanked. And yet the pain wasn’t sharp enough to make me ask him to stop. At first it was merely a surprise, and then it was disconcerting, and then it was irrevocably part of the intense pleasure shooting through me, and I couldn’t deny that I didn’t mind it.
Each swipe of his fingers, each slap of his hand on my now-sensitive ass made me shriek and gasp and moan, and my body began moving, rocking forward with the spankings, shoving back into his penetrating fingers. I felt a tremor deep inside me, a precursor, followed by another, stronger quake, and then his fingers were circling and I was whimpering and gasping, hips rolling uncontrollably, away from his smacks and into his touch on my clit, and I felt it rising, happening, impending, shaking me.
“Roth…oh, Jesus….” I said, feeling climax burgeoning within me. “I’m about to come so hard….”
“When?” he demanded, fingers circling me madly, palm smoothing my stinging flesh.
“Now! Ohfuckohfuckohfuck, Valentine!”
I came with a scream and a burst of adrenaline, shattering into a million pieces, and at that moment, as the scream tore from my throat, Roth impaled me with his cock, driving deep into my pussy in one quick thrust, rocking me forward and filling me to bursting. My scream cut off abruptly, my voice stolen by breathless ecstasy. My swelling climax ruptured, and all I could do was brace my hands on the bed and push back into him. My mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he palmed my ass cheeks with both hands, drawing nearly all the way out and then gliding deep in a smooth, hard stroke.
“Oh, my fucking god, Valentine….” I gasped.
“Yes?” He sounded casual, unruffled, thrusting into me again and again, driving my orgasm to heights I hadn’t thought possible, even after as hard as he’d made me come already.
“Just…describing you, is all,” I said, turning my head to glance at him over my shoulder.
His thrusts grew harder, and my tits bounced with his pounding, my ass absorbing the impact of his gliding hips with smacking sounds as loud as when he’d spanked me.
“I’m your fucking god, Kyrie?” He punctuated this with a single hard spank.
“Yes!” I cried out.
“You like being spanked, don’t you, Kyrie?”
“Yes, I like it.”
“You like it when I take you from behind, don’t you, Kyrie?” He smacked the other side.
“I love it, Valentine. I love it.”
“You want to come again?” I could only nod. “Tell me what you want me to do, Kyrie. Tell me how to make you scream again.”
“You know what I want. Give it to me.”
I dropped my head, letting it hang. I forced my eyes open and peered upside down along my torso. I caught a glimpse of his cock sliding out of my pussy, glistening and thick, and then watched it slam back in, watched his balls slap against my pussy, watched his thighs shift.
“Say it, Kyrie. I want to hear you say it. I go crazy when you say dirty things to me, baby. You make me wild when you tell me what you want from me.” He gripped my hips and jerked me back into his thrusts, and I gave him all I had, pushing back with him, rocking back into his relentless rhythm, taking his cock and loving every inch of it, loving this hard and frantic fucking he was giving me.
“Finger my ass, Valentine. Put your finger all the way inside me.”
“That’s what you want, is it, love? You want my finger deep in your tight little asshole?”
“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 cock completely out of me, then dipped his fingers into my pussy. 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 asshole, 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 pussy, 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 cock slamming and sliding, one hand gripping my hip, the other slipping his long middle finger slowly and carefully into my asshole 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 cock 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 cock 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 fucking me in both my entrances, pounding into my ass and my pussy 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 cock 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 asshole, 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 cock with everything I had. I was fucked breathless, barely able to even gasp at the raw potency of my orgasm, for the rapturous bliss of his cock 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 pussy and withdraw his finger, wipe his cock on me, smearing my asshole 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 cock was in my asshole 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 cock 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 fucked 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 fucked 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 fuck. 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 fuck 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.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“I’m going to feed you, bathe you, fuck you until you can’t move, and then I’m going to hold you while we sleep. And then when we wake up, I’m going to fuck you again.”
My heart melted and swelled simultaneously. “Promise?”
He laughed. “Yes, Kyrie. I promise.” Roth rolled me onto my back, leaned over me, and kissed me. “Now, wait here.”
I watched his tight, round, muscular ass ripple as he slid out of bed and walked out of the room. God, he was gorgeous. Knowing how he could make me feel made him all the more sexy. When his tanned muscles and blond hair were out of sight, I finally let go.
I cried.
Confused, ecstatic, crazy tears of raw overwhelmed emotion. It was just a brief, stormy spat and then done, but it was what I needed to be able to process everything I felt.
I’d started this crazy affair frightened and guarded and expecting the worst. Yet what I’d discovered in Valentine Roth was something totally unexpected, something unusual and incredible. My emotions were haywire, made insane and intense and confused by what we’d just done together, how hard he’d made me come, how perfectly he’d followed through on his promises, fulfilling the expectations he’d set up with our hours of foreplay. Yet that couldn’t explain what I was feeling.
It wasn’t just sexual appreciation. There was that in spades, of course. Valentine Roth was a goddamned champion in bed, not just in terms of staying power or a ridiculously short refractory period, but in the way he paid attention to me, the way everything he did seemed laser-focused on making me feel as good as possible, taking his own pleasure in giving me what I needed. What had just happened between us in this bed was every woman’s erotic fantasy. He was totally dominant, powerful and confident, skilled and passionate and attentive.
All of that being true, how could I not become attached to him? And I was. I was totally getting attached. It wasn’t smart, but there it was, truth distilled. I was getting attached to Valentine Roth.
Yet it was more than that, and this was where fear began to take hold. It was who he was out of bed that scared me, because it was that man I was developing sudden and fearfully potent emotions for. He was all those things, too; every descriptor I’d used for Roth in bed was true of the man in everyday life as well.
And I was falling for him.