Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

When the plate is empty, he sets it on the nightstand next
to the bed. Then he turns back to me and says in a
conversational tone, “Exactly how many vibrators do you
own?”
My eyes fly open wide.
“I’m only asking because this drawer here seems to be
filled to overflowing. That hot-pink one might be my
favorite.” He points at the nightstand where he just set the
plate.
The drawer beneath it is cracked open a few inches, which
is plenty wide enough to see the treasure trove of sex toys
inside.
The hot-pink vibrator in question is actually a dildo. Quite
a large specimen, too, with lifelike veins and a shaft both long
and thick, terminating in a bulbous head that could frighten
virgins into staying chaste for life.
Oh my god.
I make a meep of horror, which makes Kage chuckle.
“Your dirty little secret’s out, baby. And to think, you told
me you were conservative in bed.”
He slides the drawer open wider, pulls out the giant pink
dildo, holds it up, and wags it back and forth, smirking. “This
is hardly conservative. You could puncture a lung with this
monster.”
I try to grab it, but he holds it up over his head. His arm is
too long for me to snatch away the horrifying evidence.
So—mortified, glowing with shame—I collapse onto my
side on the bed and pull the sheets over my face, whimpering.
He proceeds to conduct a forensic examination of my sex
toy drawer.
“Oh, look. What an enormous bottle of lube. Here we have
the classic rabbit vibrator, of course, along with a glass glowin-the-dark
dildo. Very artistic. You might want to consider
investing in a flashlight, but I suppose this would be much
more fun to use as a light source if the power goes out.