Drew Valentina Onlyfans Novels & Stories

“It's okay. We don't expect every man to be a God between the sheets.” As the words leave my lips, a foul taste coats the inside of my mouth. Because I know he can fuck. Everyone knows Don Alessandro Valentino can fuck. There have been articles printed in his honour by women with loose lips. Raving about how he's the best that they've ever had. The vein on his temple pulsates, showing me I've hit a nerve.

"You don't know me, but I have found out a lot about you already, Valentino, so you better behave if you would like to live to see another day. You don't dare touch what is mine, pretty boy." Drew is a determined person who is unwilling to give in. He reciprocated the warning and shoved him by the chest. "You better watch it, asshole; you don't dare intimidate me on my turf. The possibility exists that it is you who won't live to see another day; therefore, you had best watch your back all the time."

He even went as far as naming his daughter the CEO of a company she didn't sweat blood to build "Baby, you are overthinking this… I mean just relax…" Valentina said getting up and walking to Matias. Her hands rested on his shoulders and pulled him closer to her. Her gaze held nothing but mischievousness as she caressed him seductively while tracing her other hand up until she cupped his face

The bedroom was huge and luxurious. Valeria opened a large drawer beside the bed and took out several items. She laid them on the silk sheets: a thick black dildo with realistic veins, a smaller pink vibrator, a bottle of lube, and a pair of shiny metal nipple clamps. “Lie on the bed,” Valeria ordered. “On your back. Legs wide open.” Aurora obeyed. She spread her thighs, showing her red, swollen pussy. It was still dripping from her previous orgasms.

Side‑by‑side with that same shot of Dante stepping out of a courthouse, Luca behind him. My thumb scrolls without my permission. > New documents obtained by *Il Giornale* suggest that the “entertainment assets” referenced in leaked financial reports may include global pop sensation Luna Valentine, 28. > > Valentine, whose legal name is Luna Valentina Rossi, reportedly became the “exclusive responsibility” of Sicilian businessman Dante Moretti under a controversial series of contracts once controlled by Marco D’Angelo… I stop breathing for a second. Exclusive responsibility. Controversial contracts. My fingers tighten painfully around the phone.

he looked ruined. His eyes were swollen. His face looked unshaven, his tie hung loose. In one photo, he was shouting at a paparazzi outside a bar. His company was drowning. He was failing. He was a drunken mess, destroying his father's legacy. "You deserve it.” I whispered, touching the screen. "You deserve to lose everything." Then, my fingers typed another name. Valentina. Her I*******m profile popped up. It was public. I scrolled through the recent posts. She had deleted the photos with Mateo. Last time, I checked there were plenty. Her belly was growing just like mine.

@CuriousCat22: "I need to know who she is! Does anyone know her name? 🤔 #DrewMarkVentures" @Shipper101: "I don't care who she is, I ship them so hard! They're meant to be. 💗 #DrewMarkVentures" @GossipGirl32: "Scandalous! The private CEO of Drew Mark Ventures and his mysterious girlfriend. Can't wait to see what's next! 😏 #DrewMarkVentures" Drew leaned in and kissed me softly on the cheek, catching me off guard. “You're handling all this attention really well," he whispered.

Cruz asked, his eyes burning with furry. "I did my findings and I found out who opened the account." Dave announced. "And who is it? Who the hell is this person that won't let me woman live in peace?" He asked angrily. "I'm definitely going to sue them." He mumbled. "It's Dr. Valeria Campbell." Dave blurted, confusing Cruz. "What are you talking about?" Cruz asked in confusion. "I know you'd find it hard to believe but Valeria is the one behind the pictures resurfacing. While looking at her profile, I realized she is responsible for starting up so many controversial articles and posts on WeCom especially concerning you and Jessica." He explained.

Taking what he wanted. My body grew hot at the thought. I imagined him throwing me onto that bed, tearing my clothes off, pinning my wrists above my head. His mouth on my neck, my breasts. Those strong hands gripping my thighs, spreading them apart. His voice in my ear, telling me who I belonged to. "Fuck," I breathed out, shocked by how wet I was getting just standing in his apartment, fantasizing about him. I slumped onto the sofa, the lingerie still clutched in my hand. I was Valentina DeLuca. I didn't lose control like this. I didn't obsess over men. I used them when necessary and discarded them when they'd served their purpose.

Thighs pressed tight together like that’ll hide the slick I can already see darkening the crotch of the sweatpants. It doesn’t hide shit. Valentino drops to his knees between her spread legs first. Big hands hook under the waistband of the sweatpants and drag them down her thighs in one slow, torturous pull. Pale skin, faint purple bruises from last night’s knots, slick shining on her inner thighs like she’s been glazed. The fabric peels away from her cunt with a wet sound—strings of arousal connecting her folds to the material for one obscene second before they snap. “Fuck,” Val mutters, voice reverent gravel. “Look at this perfect little cunt. Still puffy. Still leaking us. Still begging.”