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“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.
As if that single thrust had broken something open inside me, I gasped again and then let out a shriek, my palms on the mirror taking my weight, his grip in my hair holding my head up. Somehow I’d missed the fact that he’d rested the round wireless remote for the bullet on my back; he picked it up, touched a button, and the tempo of the bullet’s vibration increased. Another button-press, and it ramped up again, and a third had it buzzing so hard I could feel it in my belly, and once again my breath was stolen. Roth tossed the remote onto a nearby stack of jeans, curled his now-empty hand around my hipbone. I wanted to curse and scream and plead for mercy, but I couldn’t speak. I truly didn’t want mercy from this mad, wild bliss.
And now he began to f**k me in earnest. Slowly at first, using the same slow withdrawal and hard in-stroke. I found my breath again, and the only sound I was capable of was a short, sharp scream with every pounding f**k of his hips. After a dozen of these slow-hard thrusts, Roth tightened his grip on my hair and pushed me lower, spreading me wider, letting him deeper. I wiggled my feet to widen my stance, walking my hands down the mirror, and found myself glad that I was naturally fairly flexible. I was off-balance, even my hands on the mirror not quite enough to keep me in place. I felt like I was about to fall, especially when Roth started a faster, smoother rhythm, giving me a hard push at the moment his hips crashed into my ass, rocking me forward.
“I’m not—I’m gonna…fall, Valentine,” I gasped, my words broken by the impact of his c**k burying deep in me.
He slowed his rhythm, sliding slowly, letting go of my hair so he could gather it into a ponytail in his fist. “I won’t let you fall. Give me your hands. ” I pushed my hips back against his, took one hand from the mirror and extended it behind me. “Both of them. ”
“Roth…?” I protested, but brought my other hand around behind me as well.
He pinioned my wrists together in one hand, barring them one over the other on my lower back. That was when I understood the position: I was totally and completely helpless, not tied up in any way, but just as completely dependent on him. He had my hair in one hand, my wrists in the other, his c**k impaled deep inside my quivering pu**y, his bullet vibrating wildly in my ass**le. I was bent almost double, unbalanced. My tits hung free, swaying as he started to rock into me. He pulled me back with both hands, pounding deep and then pushing me away so his c**k nearly slipped out, only to slam home again.
I couldn’t scream, could only manage a whimper. I wanted