All Chapters of His V*rgin Stripper : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

53 Chapters

Already Whipped

MarcelloI stood in the gravel parking lot in front of the doors of my main city warehouse, the cool night air doing nothing to cut through the heavy, suffocating grit coating the back of my throat. Behind the reinforced metal doors of the facility, the low, mechanical hum of the forklift engines was finally grinding to a halt. We had just closed a major, high-stakes supply deal with the Irish syndicate.The work for the night was done. I had no logical reason to still be standing out here in the dark, watching the exhaust fumes from the transport trucks slowly dissipate into the hazy city sky.But I stayed. I leaned my hip back against the cold hood of my sedan, staring blankly at the cracked asphalt beneath my boots, unable to understand why the thought of turning the key in the ignition made my chest tighten with a foreign hesitation. I was avoiding my own home. Worse, I was actively avoiding her.Sienna.The realization made a venomous taste flare up at the back of my tongue, a

Prove Me Wrong

MarcelloThe tires crunched softly against the pristine gravel of the winding driveway as Enzo steered the vehicle through the massive security gates of my estate. But as the car finally rolled to a halt in front of the grand entrance, my eyes didn't track the lines of the building. Instead, they locked onto the rear-view mirror.Enzo stared back at me through the glass, and that fucking annoying smirk was still plastered across his lips, unchanged from the warehouse parking lot.Beside him, Dante sat rigid in the passenger seat. His large frame practically filled the space, his arms crossed over his chest in his usual disciplined, military posture. But as the headlights cut out, plunging the interior of the car into a dim gray, I caught the subtle twitch of his jaw. A barely noticeable smile was pulling at the corners of Dante's mouth, a silent testament to the conversation that had transpired during the drive.I let out a heavy sigh, leaning my head against the leather headrest of

Hallucinating The Devil

SiennaI lay flat on my back across the sofa, one arm draped over my forehead to block out the sharp glare of the overhead recessed lighting, while the other hand loosely dangled off the edge of the cushions. The smooth, cool glass of a heavy crystal tumbler was pressed against my palm, threatening to slip from my fingers every time my mind drifted.I was drunk. Drunk as fuck, honestly.The heavy, burning heat of whatever expensive amber liquid I had poured from the bar was currently sloshing around in my empty stomach, turning my thoughts into a thick, slow-moving fog. A series was playing on the flat screen on the opposite wall, the colors flashing rhythmically the white marble of the room, but I wasn't processing a single word being said. It was just background noise, a desperate attempt to drown out the suffocating quiet of a mansion that felt too big for one person.Suddenly, the electronic click of the front door security lock echoed through the open floor plan, followed by

The Wrong Name

MarcelloThe weight of her body pressing tightly against mine threw a violent shock wave through my nervous system. Every point of contact felt like a burn cutting through the cotton of my shirt and the fabric of my trousers. She wasn’t holding back an ounce of her weight. She leaned into me with the reckless abandon of a person completely untethered by reality, her soft frame molding itself into the hard lines of my body until there was no air left between us.And trapped beneath the thin material of my trousers and driving into the soft flesh of her thighs, was a hard-on so fierce it actually made my vision blur around the edges.It was an involuntary betrayal. My cock swelled, thickening into a rigid, painful knot of lust that pulsed heavily against her skin, branding her with the evidence of my need before I could get a grip of myself.I couldn't move without making it worse. She was centered right over where it ached most, her hands clamped at the base of my neck.I looked down,

The Beginning of Sin

MarcelloMy fingers wrapped around the delicate curve of her jaw in a bone-crushing grip. The pressure was intense, my thumb digging into the soft flesh of one cheek while my fingers locked under her chin, eliminating her ability to turn away from me.I forced her head back, tilting her face up until she had no choice but to look at me, her blurred, glassy eyes trying to focus on the fury I knew was radiating from my own.The sudden movement disrupted her balance. The hands she had wrapped around my neck lost their anchor, sliding slowly down the smooth cotton of my shirt.Her palms slid lower, tracing the line of my abdomen before her fingers brushed dangerously against the rigid, pulsing bulge throbbing between my legs. She pressed harder, testing the shape of me through the fabric, and my hips jerked forward on instinct, chasing the pressure of her hand.A low, guttural growl ripped from the back of my throat, a sound that was animalistic, born from a toxic mix of raw possessivene

Marked By Sin

MarcelloAs my mind spiraled deeper into the dark, a soft, impatient friction against my waist snapped me back to the mattress beneath us.Sienna’s hand had traveled down from my chest, her fingers fumbling with the heavy metal buckle of my belt. Fidgety and slightly uncoordinated from the wine, she tugged and twisted at the strap with a desperate urgency, her breath hitching against my collarbone. She let out a tiny, frustrated huff against my skin when the leather refused to yield.The desperation in her movements melted the freezing wall of my hesitation. Moving my hand between our bodies, my fingers popped the metal prong from the notch, loosening the strap in a single, fluid motion.Sienna didn't waste a second. Her hands immediately hooked into the top button of my shirt, tearing at the fasteners in a blur of frantic energy. She stripped the fabric down to my abdomen, pushing it off my shoulders the instant the last button cleared the loop. With a sharp twist of my torso, I s

Claimed

MarcelloI remained paralyzed, my elbows locked rigid on either side of her head, my weight suspended above her as the heat of her tight walls wrapped around the full length of my cock.My eyes locked with hers, burning through the dim air of the bedroom, and I recognized the pain in them.It wasn't the submissive glaze of a woman lost to the depths of an alcohol-fueled pleasure. Her brows were pinched tightly together, a delicate line forming between her eyes as her lower lip trembled against another gasp. The dark depth of her pupils held a raw, stinging vulnerability that made my chest tighten with a suffocating pressure.My mind rebelled against the evidence crushing against my shaft, my brain desperately scrambling for an alternative explanation as the tight, unyielding friction inside her pussy threatened to cut off my circulation. It made zero sense. How was she still untouched? How could a girl from LA, tangled up in all that chaos and danger, never let anyone in... until to

Who Do You Belong To?

MarcelloThe tight, crushing spasms of her release were still wringing violently around the length of my shaft, a series of frantic internal pulses that threatened to rip my own control right out from under me. Riding her through her climax had pushed my body to its limit. The slick, hot friction of her interior was pure lava, and with every desperate contraction of her walls, the thick veins along my cock throbbed with a heavy ache that signaled my own orgasm was very close.My thrusts became even harder, my hips driving down into hers with a heavy, unyielding momentum that left no room for recovery. The mattress beneath us groaned under the rhythmic, violent weight of my body crashing into hers, the sound of our skin meeting in loud, wet claps filling the shadow-drenched luxury of the room. I was a man possessed, completely consumed by the driving necessity to bury myself as deep as physically possible into the pristine heat she had kept locked away until tonight.Sienna, caught

The Devil's Peace

MarcelloHer breath hitched, her head thrashing against the pillow as her lower lip trembled. "You..." she whispered, her slurred voice thick with the residual fog of the wine and the overwhelming sensory overload. "You..."The answer wasn't enough. It wasn't precise enough to satisfy the savage, possessive beast rearing its ugly head under my ribs. I reached my left hand down between our bodies, sliding it under the curve of her hip, and I smacked her ass with a loud, heavy crack that left a stinging pink handprint on her pale flesh."Name, gattina," I growled against her ear, my teeth grazing her lobe as I pulled my shaft back another agonizing inch. "Say my fucking name."Her voice was strained, her chest heaving as she let out a broken, ragged sob of pure frustration, her bare thighs squeezing my waist with a desperate, crushing pressure. "You... Marcello," she cried out, her eyes locking onto mine with a fierce, undoing clarity that stamped itself into my soul. "You own me. I'

The Morning After The Devil

SiennaThe first thing that registered through the heavy fog of sleep was a strange, unyielding warmth along my entire left side. Not the loose, tangled mess of my own duvet back in my room. This heat was solid, pressing into me with a steady weight that made my half-conscious mind stall.Then came the contact.A large, calloused hand rested low on my stomach, fingers splayed wide, anchoring me down with a casual authority. A second hand was slowly kneading my breast, squeezing with a lazy, sleep-heavy rhythm that sent a jolt of panic straight to my heart.I froze, my breath catching as my mind scrambled in the dark. Who would be holding me like this?No one came to mind.Roxy was gone; Marcello had sent her away days ago, stripping me of the only familiar comfort left in this fortress. Talia's phone had been dead since this nightmare started, her silence a constant ache. And even if either of them were here, they'd never hold me like this. Never pin me under the weight of their own

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