Novel & Cerita Valentino X Reader

I watched as he used those flames to reclaim the docks, lighting up the night, smiling as he said, "Once I've secured my position, I'll marry you in grand style." I thought we would last a lifetime. I never imagined our love would crumble under a few careless lies from Lina. Lina had said, "She's a merchant's daughter. What could she want besides money?" Yet, she never knew that last year, when the Valentino Family faced a financial collapse, it was I who transferred 30 million through anonymous accounts to help them survive. And just last month, when a rival family sent assassins, it was I who had my bodyguard take a bullet for him…

My heart started pounding as I scrolled through them. News headlines, with pictures and Tweets. “Senator Rivera’s daughter sold to Sicilian mafia boss Azrael Valenti.” “Who is Celeste Rivera? The senator’s scandalous secret.” #MafiaPrincess #RiveraDeal #AzraelValenti There were photos too. Me in the gardens. Me standing on the balcony. Me getting into Azrael’s car. All over the internet. “Oh my god.” My throat went dry. Enzo took a step back. “Celeste, I didn’t—”

VALERIA POV When I woke up, my head was actually resting on something rock hard, not a typical pillowcase. I shifted closer and then my hand brushed something hard. I paused, breathing in the familiar scent and swallowed hard. I fluttered my eyes open and I was met with the shock of my life. # My head was resting on Lycan king Xyrus's chest while his other hand rested on my waist. Something twitched in my hand and my gaze travelled down to see that my hand was tightly wrapped around Lycan King Xyrus di…

Cassian’s fingers glide through my folds, his fingers working in deliberate motions to drive me absolutely crazy. “Look at that,” he murmurs, almost impressed. “She’s fucking dripping.” Xavier’s eyes drop to my chest. “Look at her fucking nipples. So hard and wanting.” Valentin’s free hand slides down the front of my shirt. He cups my right breast through the fabric, lifts it, then rolls my nipple between his fingers. The pressure makes my back arch before I can stop it. A broken moan slips out around my bitten lip. “That’s more like it,” Valentin groans. “Why do you bother fighting this? We know you want this as much as we do.”

He texts the next morning at eight forty-five: Last night was the best three hours I've had in Barcelona. Or anywhere, recently. Thank you for the high ground. Valentina reads this at the kitchen table with her first coffee, still in the oversized t-shirt she sleeps in, hair not yet dealt with, and feels something she has been carefully not naming for six months settle into a shape she can no longer pretend is professional interest. She writes back: Barcelona rewards the people who look at it properly. You looked at it properly.

I guide my fur-coat off her shoulder and expose her neck. She looked delicious. Her white, silvery hair falls in soft curls to her tailbone. Her silky, smooth, creamy white skin is lightly brushed with goosebumps, waiting for the touch of my lips, “J-Jaxson…” the sound of my name rolling off her lips is torture – pure, fucking torture. Gripping a fist full of Valerie’s hair, her plump cherry lips touch my own, and I throw out all self-control. As per usual, her soft lips against my own always takes me by surprise. Electricity stings and sizzles across our lips. We’re at each other like wild, untamed beasts inhaling the other.

Valeria Rhen. Val was tied to her, for some reason and I will figure it out. Raven poured wine, her movements graceful, but her eyes never left me. “You’ve been distant,” she said, her voice soft, playing the hurt girlfriend. “What’s going on with you and Val?” I took a sip, keeping my face blank. “Nothing,” I said, my tone even. “He’s my roommate. That’s it.” But my heart raced, Val’s face flashing, his defiance despite his size, his pains.

I have to keep pretending I don't feel anything. Even if it's destroying me. Even if I just came harder from his voice through a wal than I have from anything in seven years. Even if I know—deep down, in a place I don't want to examine—that I'm fighting a losing battle. Because Dante Valentino doesn't give up. He never has. And now that he's found me, now that he knows I'm here, he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants. Until he gets me.

He introduced himself, "I'm Ronald Weeks, lady. Twenty-three years old, and I've just graduated from college. Oh, here's a gift for you." He took out a pot of mint, apparently from out of nowhere. The smell sobered me up, and I was half-amused. "It is Valentine's Day today. And you gave me this?" "Yes. I bought this for you," said Ronald earnestly. "Why?" "You're a beautiful woman, and yet you still came to this place on Valentine's Day. I'm sure you know that this place can give you something better than a relationship." No arguments against that. I grabbed Ronald's hand and asked him to drink with me. When I sobered up once more, it was already the next day. I found myself in an unfamiliar

I looked down at him as I felt him rise. "Now you are ready for me," Valentine said standing and wiping his face before removing his boxers. I'd felt him through his clothes before but seeing him standing there his hardened cock jutting up towards his stomach I began a little apprehensive. I leaned up on my arms, biting my lip as I watched him slide a condom on, looking between his dick and his face, darkened with desire.