Page 32 of Valentine's Slave

“No wonder you had to pay a woman for sex,” I say. “You’re insane.”

“At least I can see you as you really are,” he says, ignoring me. “You’re precious, Ava, inside and out.”

I don’t know why that gets my guard up. “You don’t know the first fucking thing about me.”

I pull off my clothes, fury lighting my movements. I don’t care if the woman at the door hears us or finds us out. It’ll serve Valentino right if she does.

At least this time he takes off his clothes, too. I see his muscular form in the full light, every broad curve of his shoulder and every ab. This man is a walking Greek god. But he doesn’t bend me over and fuck me like I thought he would, like the calloused soul that he is. Instead, when we’re both in nothing but our underwear, he takes me close in his arms and begins to step, leading me through the rhythm of the random Shawn Mendez song playing on the radio. We’re dancing. It’s both incredibly weird and wonderful at the same time, but we’re dancing.

Now I’m all confused all over again. Is Valentino kind or cruel or a strange mix of both, and why? Part of me wants to know what happened to him and made him like this. The other part warns me to just shut up and take the cash.

I catch a glimpse of us in the mirror, his tall, broad frame leading me through these slow, tiny steps. I don’t even know what we’re dancing, but it’s working. Valentino seems to be a truly well-rounded human being, except for the animalistic and hermit sides of him.

He spins me around and dips me back, and I find myself smiling. I forget that I’m in a Victora’s Secret changeroom and that I’m locked into some disturbingly well-paying deal to be his sex slave, which might not even be legal. I forget everything except for how his hands slide across my skin, so soft and smooth, not like he wants something, but like he wants to be close to me, like he wants to take care of me.

I rest my head on his shoulder as our bodies come together, moving in a slow, circular dance, our breathing syncing up. I can feel his heartbeat, and it’s a lulling, comforting sound. His arms are strong and warm around me, and I feel safe.

We step, step, step, and then he spins me again before pulling me close against him. He looks down at me with something like tenderness as he strokes a wild strand of hair back behind my ear. The touch is intimate, and I find my heart beating faster.

As the song finishes, we’re pressed together, and now, Valentino’s hands are running up and down my arms, gently pushing my bra straps off my shoulders.

Something dips in my stomach as I take my chance to explore him, feasting my eyes on his dark hair falling over his shoulders, his muscular frame leading down to his black boxers, his package already hard and pressing through. I follow his chiselled abs down to that little V that disappears into his boxers, and hooking my thumbs into the waistband, I push his boxers down to be greeted by his hard dick and bush of wild black hair.

He’s already unhooked my bra from behind, and pulling it off, he cups my breasts in his hands, his eyes blazing. He slips off my black panties, and we’re all natural, skin on skin.

Valentino pushes his jacket aside and drags the soft little stool in front of the full-length mirror. I’m positive that he’s going to bend me over it, and to be honest, I wouldn’t mind so much right about now, but instead, he sits down on it himself and guides me to his lap, facing away from him, towards the mirror.

“I want you to watch yourself fuck me,” he growls in my ear, “so you can see how glorious you are.”

That immediately sets me back to uncomfortable, but my heart is still jittery with excitement from two seconds ago, and my pussy is already wet from the dancing and the body exploration. Valentino’s hands have found my skin, and he doesn't stop, rubbing and caressing every muscle and curve, from my neck, down my back, along both sides of my hips, sliding to tease along the front. His touch brings me to life, and I take a breath, preparing to do the deed.

I’m about to position myself above him, when I feel him finger my ass, and a thrill of pleasure sizzles through me. I gasp ever so slightly, and Valentino reaches out and covers my mouth with his other hand.

With his finger still dipping inside me, I feel myself get even wetter. Smothering a moan, I spread my own pussy lips with my finger, staring at the ground in front of me to focus as I slowly lower myself onto his dick.

Another moan escapes my lips when the head goes in, and Valentino tightens his grip on my mouth.

“Don’t make a sound, my dirty little Valentine,” he growls in my ear, and my lips part with desire at the vulnerability of the act. I slide down further, bobbing my hips, and then finally I sit all the way down, taking him to the hilt.

“Now watch yourself,” he commands, and I lift my eyes to the mirror.

My hair is a mess, falling down over my breasts in all directions as I sit directly on top of his crotch, my knees pressed together, my hands behind me on his thighs to help support myself. We’re both naked, and I fix my eyes on Valentino, his wild black hair and broad shoulders behind me, that devil-sexy look in his eyes as he watches me with a coy smile, his hand still covering my mouth.

His other finger stays in my ass, and when I begin to move, using my hands to help push me up and down, I nearly let out a squeal, feeling him in the tightness behind. It makes my pussy tingle, and I slide up and down on him, riding his cock.

This is worlds apart from what I had with Shawn, who would hardly touch me at all beforehand and just try to stick it in, no matter how many times I told him I was like an oven, not a microwave. He didn’t get it.

Waves of pleasure are building in my core, and I focus my eyes back on my own figure in the mirror, my eyes looking all in a sex daze, head slightly thrown back, body open and naked and working hard to get us both off.

I may not be perfect. But fuck, I am beautiful. I smile with the simple acceptance that whatever Valentino sees in the mirror, he likes, and more importantly, whatever I see in the mirror,Ishould like. In any case, looks mean less when you’re so lost in sensations, when you’re bouncing up and down on your slave master’s lap, feeling his dick fill you right up while his finger plunders you from behind, his hand clamped over your mouth so you won’t make a sound, and all this in a Victora’s Secret changeroom.

The whole situation turns me on, and I ride him with new vigour, closing my eyes, breathing through my nose, and let my body open and relax, accepting me, accepting him, acceptingthis.The orgasm is building and churning inside me, I nearly squeal again. Every time I slam down against Valentino’s dick, he thrusts his finger into my ass, and it shoots pleasure through me like nothing else. I speed up, and so does he as the feelings mesh and move together, tearing through me like a hurricane.

I’m gasping, my abs pulsing, and for once, I’m not self-conscious to be doing this with the lights on. I hear Valentino come ever so quietly, a growl that he swallows deep in his throat, while his dick throbs inside me, and I let out the smallestwhimper, feeling the air and the energy whoosh out of me as I still against him, and he finally takes his hand off my mouth.

I look at the girl in the mirror, sweaty, naked, and smiling. She looks high.

High on love, my brain cries in a gleeful bliss.

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