All Chapters of His V*rgin Stripper : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

130 Chapters

Beyond Restraint

Sienna My body jerked as the final, spasms of my climax ripped through me, sending electric tremors radiating from my core to the tips of my toes. I was completely helpless, panting, and entirely spent against the dark leather cushions of the couch. The world had dissolved into a blurred, warm haze of light and heavy shadows, my heart pounding so hard and so loud that the sound of it filled my ears, eclipsing the fading notes of the music. Yet, there was no release from the heat. Marcello’s face was still buried deep in my cunt, his hot mouth refusing to let me go even as my body shivered and fought to settle. He stayed right there, his tongue moving in slow, heavy strokes as he licked me clean. Every flick of his tongue against my highly sensitive, swollen skin was a beautiful, agonizing torture, catching every single drop of the slick wetness my body had produced during that shattering release. I let out a series of breathless whimpers, my fingers weakly tangling in hi

Not Done With You

Sienna The world had narrowed down to the space of this couch, the heavy, rhythmic thud of our bodies, and the raw heat of Marcello inside me. There was no past, no future, no lingering fear of this dark world. There was only him. His hips slammed into mine harder with every thrust, the force of his weight driving me backward, making my back slam repeatedly against the plush leather of the couch. The impact was dizzying, jarring my entire frame, but the slight sting of the leather scraping my skin was drowned out by the hot wave of pleasure coiling tight in my lower belly. It was a brutal, beautiful rhythm, a relentless storm of friction and pressure that left me breathless. My moans became louder, rising in pitch, turning into ragged gasps as I came closer and closer to my orgasm. Every time he pulled back to the tip of his shaft and buried himself to the hilt again, a broken sound tore from my throat. I couldn't maintain even a shred of dignity or restraint. My fing

Cold Sheets

Sienna I was pulled back from my deep sleep by the lack of warmth from the side of the bed where Marcello had slept last night. Even in the lingering fog of exhaustion, the absence of his heat felt like a physical drop in temperature against my skin. My body, still aching in places that felt new, missing the comforting weight of his frame pressed along my back. With my eyes still closed, refusing to fully surrender to the waking world just yet, I extended my arm across the mattress. My palm slid over the smooth, expensive fabric, feeling around in the dim hope that he had just rolled over, that he was still within arm's reach. But I found it exactly as I expected… empty. The sheets on his side of the bed were cold, the fabric straightened out enough to tell me he hadn't just gotten up to use the restroom. He had been gone for a while. A hollow ache settled in the center of my chest, a stark contrast to the fullness that had consumed me just hours prior. My eyes finally opened,

The Don in The Kitchen

SiennaI stood in front of the vanity mirror, taking a moment to simply breathe and look at myself. My hands, still slightly shaky from the lingering adrenaline of the maid’s announcement, reached up to gather the heavy mass of my blonde hair. I twisted it, pulling the thick strands upward and securing them into a loose, messy bun at the crown of my head. A few soft tendrils escaped the tie, framing my face and neck—right where Marcello’s mouth had left a trail of scorching heat only hours before.I picked up my favorite tube of lipstick from the vanity tray. Pressing the cold cylinder against my lips, I carefully swept the color across my mouth, then used the tip of my finger to smudge the edges slightly, making it look soft, bitten, and natural.Leaning in closer, my hands bracing against the cool marble of the vanity, I stared intensely at my reflection.My skin was glowing. It was a radiant, flushed warmth that had nothing to do with the scalding shower I had just taken or the v

Jealous? Me?

MarcelloI stood frozen beside the prep island, the heavy steel handle of the chef's knife suddenly feeling incredibly awkward, almost useless, in my grip. My chest tightened, a strange pressure wrapping around my ribs as I watched, in awe, as Sienna practically ran across the kitchen floor throwing herself with zero hesitation into Ma’s outstretched arms.The unbridled emotion written across her face in that split second struck a chord so deep in my chest it made my breath hitch. I stared at the way her features softened, the way her eyes lit up before those glistening tears pooled in her eyes.Did she really miss the old woman that much? Why the hell hadn't she said anything to me?It felt like a physical blow to my pride. If she had just told me how much she was hurting, how much she desperately needed to see her, I would have had my men to bring Ma to the estate weeks ago. I would have torn this city apart to find anyone she wanted if it meant seeing that look on her face sooner

A Dangerous Kind of Hunger

Marcello I sat at the dining table, the silver fork resting loosely between my fingers. The cold metal was a sharp, grounding contrast to the heat still buzzing just beneath my skin. I sat staring down at the ceramic plate in front of me. The food—a perfectly prepared breakfast of folded eggs, seasoned meats, and grilled vegetables that I had spent the last hour cooking with my own hands—lay untouched. I hadn't taken a single bite. My stomach was knotted so tightly, coiled with a restless, chaotic energy that made the idea of actual food feel impossible. My dark eyes moved to the woman sitting beside me. I couldn't have looked away even if the mansion was burning to the ground around us. I was exhausted, my shoulders heavy and my muscles aching from the grueling demands of the past week, but beneath the fatigue was a deeper, more primitive hum of satisfaction.I had put in a lot of effort to cook for her and seeing her enjoy her food made my heart flutter. Instead of eating, I si

A Wicked Promise

Marcello"Are you done? We have somewhere to be," My voice was flat, but it carried that underlying, rough edge of authority that usually made my soldiers snap to attention without a second thought.I didn't want to sound like a tyrant, but the heavy, territorial tension wrapping around my chest was making it incredibly difficult to keep my tone light.Sienna paused, her hand hovering just an inch above the empty plate as she slowly set her fork down. She lifted her head, and her eyes met mine.She blinked, looking at me as if trying to decipher a foreign language, her brow furrowing in that quiet, stubborn way that always made me want to lean across the table and kiss the frown off her face."And where would that be?" Her tone was guarded, a defensive wall climbing right back up between us.I let a smirk stretch across my face, enjoying the sudden, sharp spike of tension in her shoulders. I leaned in a fraction of an inch closer, letting my voice drop into a low, gravelly register t

Bleed Him Dry

Sienna The leather seat beneath me felt incredibly smooth, but it offered absolutely no comfort against the suffocating wave of sexual tension that filled the enclosed cabin of the SUV. The silence between us was heavy, weighted down by a thousand unspoken words that seemed to hang in the air, vibrating with an electric current that made the hairs on my arms stand up. Marcello sat next to me, his imposing frame taking up more than his fair share of the space. His fingers, moving with a cold precision across the screen of his phone, his dark eyes locked on whatever business was demanding his attention. He looked unaffected, perfectly composed, as if the encounter at the dining table hadn't just shattered the last remnants of my sanity.I couldn't look at him. I didn't dare to. Instead, I pressed my shoulder against the cool glass of the window, staring out at the bubbling city passing by outside. The streets were so full of life, crowded with people walking the sidewalks, ducking

Behind The Curtain

SiennaI let out a frustrated groan for the third time, the sound muffled by the thick, soundproofed walls of the private changing room as I stepped back inside. The heavy velvet curtain fell shut behind me with a soft, final thud, momentarily cutting off the suffocating weight of his gaze. But even with the curtain blocking him from view, my heart still hammered a frantic, erratic rhythm against my ribs, refusing to calm down. My palms were damp, and a restless, jittery energy was buzzing under my skin, making me want to tear the expensive fabric off my body.I was exhausted. I had been trying on custom-designed ball gowns for the past twenty minutes, and it had quickly turning into a form of slow, psychological torture.My arms ached from lifting the heavy garments over my head, and my skin felt raw from the stiff lace, heavy fabrics, and the biting grip of the underwires. I had worn three separate, dreamy gowns—masterpieces of silk, tulle, and hand-stitched embroidery that made m

This is Wrong

Sienna The heat of his mouth on mine was already dizzying, a suffocating, bruising force that made the rest of the world fade into a blur of red and gold. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and yet my hands subconsciously clawed at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as the ground beneath my feet dissolved. My fingers dug into the seams of his shoulders, feeling the thick, solid muscle underneath, a terrifying reminder of just how easily he could overpower me.But Marcello wasn't content with just taking my mouth. He wanted all of me, laid bare in this tiny, locked room, stripped of every ounce of my pride and defense.Using his other hand he began to pull off the crimson dress. His rough palm swept down my shoulder, catching the heavy silk fabric. With a fluid tug, he slid the structured dress down from my body. The fabric gave way instantly, pooling uselessly around my feet in a heap of rich red silk, exposing my bare skin to the air-co

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