Chris Salvatore Nudes Novels & Stories

My body went rigid. Slowly, I turned. William Salvatore stood at the edge of our private booth. He was dressed in a flawlessly tailored black suit, his posture ramrod straight. His austere, controlled presence was a violent contrast to the chaotic sensuality of the club—a stark monolith in a riot of color. The very air around him seemed to still and chill. Chloe choked on her drink, sobering instantly. She shot me a wide-eyed you’re-on-your-own look, snatched her purse, and vanished into the crowd.

Salvatore decided he liked the wide-eyed look in the ever so confident face of Aryan Vallar. Salvatore wanted to take him. He really did. He wanted to see Aryan impaled on his cock moaning for more, spreading his legs wider as he threw his head back. But this was Aryan Vallar. He sighed as he got up and walked out without looking back.

Me laughing, me sleeping, me staring outside windows with that distant look I hated in mirrors…all were on the wall. In the center of the room sat a single antique chair, velvet upholstered in deep burgundy, delicate and almost feminine. And on it, with his back to the door, sat Salvatore. He was shirtless, suit trousers open, one large hand wrapped around the thick length of his cock. The other hand braced on the armrest, fingers digging into the velvet as his hips rolled slowly upward into his fist. I couldn’t breathe. He was massive! His cock was long, heavy and flushed dark with arousal. I know I’ve seen it before but now, it's more massive!

A devious grin spread across his face as he dialed Rowan's number, giving him the needed instruction for the next phase. "No. Non te lo permetterò, cazzo. You cannot have this. Ask for anything else but that!" Massimo growled, anger flashing across his features as he turned his hateful glare to me. "What..." Salvatore began, his confusion drowned out by surprise as my men made their presence known amongst the guests, their suit clad forms disarming each and every one of the guards gathered efficiently. Guests screamed, ducking for cover as they were herded into one area as planned.

To my horror, I find him there. Salvatore sitting on a chair with a cigarette in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Just… watching me. "Hey! What's this madness? Why am I naked!? "I yell at him, and he smirks. "For the view. Nice view by the way. "He replies as he stares down at me, and I wish the ground could open and swallow me. "Hey!! Don't look at me. Look away! "I yell, and he smirks as he gulps everything in his cup, drops it on the floor, and keeps smoking his cigarette.

I stared back at him, defiantly, daring him to lie. I watched as the rest sat quietly in anticipation, not touching their drinks and I knew he'd be the only one. Because Alex Salvatore is a fúcking cheat. I sat back, comfortably, enjoying this. He looked at me with a strange expression as he reached for his drink. "Holy shit!" Chris exclaimed in surprise. I smirked with deep resentment, remembering everything that happened between us.

Carlo Salvatore was a man of contradictions, a monster whom many mistook for a saint, a killer. Standing at 6'4", he carried himself like the beast he was. His skin was a drawing board of violence, marked by knife scars from knife fights and gunshot wounds. A black spiderweb tattoo crawled up the left side of his neck, with which an inscription of a faded barcode LF-117, was covered. The barcode and the spiderweb tattoo were the only remnants of a past he’d burned to the ground.

Don Salvatore was a very decent man and no matter how Allan tried, he couldn’t get anything to complicate him. He bowed slightly in appreciation to Casper before turning his attention to Cassandra, captured by her extraordinary features, as he bowed to her slightly before extending his hand for a dance. As soon as they joined hands and began to dance to the tune of the guest singer, background information about Salvatore began to play and everyone realized that he owned the biggest casinos in Las Vegas. “Thank you, Don Salvatore,” Casper said as soon as his timer beeped, showing that the one minute was done. Cassandra was relieved. Don Salvatore was a gentleman but her heart was already take

It feels almost like a dream to be the one giving this hand job," he confesses, without a hint of shame, letting out a laugh. "A nice bastard is emerging, Salvatore." "I can be whatever you want now, Santoro," he replies, finding a way to suck my breasts while I continue to pleasure him. Valentin easily holds my chest with his large hand. Both are sucked, kneaded, and licked, to the point of being deliciously sore.

Then Chris stripped off his black coat, then the black cashmere sweater underneath, revealing a powerful, well-built upper body. Dominic sucked in a breath. “Have you been training harder lately? You were already built enough before. Did you really need to take it this far?” Just look at those pecs. Those arms. What was this, was he planning to compete for Mr. Universe? “Wait.” At first, Dominic didn’t notice anything strange. Then Chris lifted a hand and placed two long fingers just below his Adam’s apple. And then something horrifying happened. As Chris dragged his fingers downward, the skin across his chest slowly split open to either side.