Old Hollywood (Colombian Cartel Book 4)
Page 7
Her hips tilted forward as his thumb stroked her clit with practiced expertise. The thought of how he acquired that particular set of skills made her frown. The fact that it mattered made her frown even more.
“Such a dirty little girl, you are. My dirty girl.” When she groaned and closed her eyes, he cupped her jaw and pulled her head back to take her lips in a searing kiss. His lips muffled her pleasured cry as their tongues took turns exploring each other’s mouths.
Her hips rocked hard against his hand, searching for the friction that would get her off. “Use me,” he murmured against her lips. “Take what you need.” His words were her undoing. Her body shuddered and quaked as her head lolled back against his shoulder.
He raised his head just enough for their eyes to meet; his, sensual and smug; hers, heavy-lidded and sated. She felt some degree of satisfaction at the question that lingered in his eyes, as if he were asking himself who had conquered whom…
This man’s obsession with her went far beyond that of a typical fan. There was a dangerous quality about him that excited her and made her want to push his buttons just so he’d unleash his angry brand of lust on her body. She was playing with fire but she was having fun doing it. She wanted to make him crazy with unbridled lust, to make him ache with need until he was so insane with it that he’d take her like a real man takes a woman, body and soul.
She’d never before been tempted to push a man over the edge of reason but, as far as she was concerned, his obsession was an open invitation. But it was more than that. Deep inside, somehow, she knew they needed each other. He needed her to fight and she needed to be taken.
He slid his thumb over her bottom lip. “I will lay the world at your feet, Valentina, and you will stand by my side as my wife and the mother of my children. You can come to me willingly or not. It doesn’t matter to me. You belong to me. I had intended to woo you and take my time doing it, knowing you would eventually come to the same conclusion. But fate intervened and here we are. You’ve met your match. I will not hesitate to hurt you to keep you -- but you will find that, with me, pain can lead to the most delicious pleasure.”
He pressed a hard, fast kiss on her lips and strode from the room, leaving her disheveled and gasping for breath. She white-knuckled the edge of the vanity to keep herself from calling out for him to come back. How was it possible that she wanted to fight him even as she wished he would throw her down on the floor and fuck her senseless?
Victor adjusted his erection as he leaned against the wall outside Valentina’s room, struggling to regain his composure. That woman had every nerve in his body crackling like a livewire. Watching her come undone by his hand had nearly made him come in his pants like a fucking teenager.
He looked up to see Valentina’s maid, Renata, heading toward him holding a vase of red roses.
“What do you have there?”
“Aren’t they lovely? There is no card, but they were delivered just now, for Miss Varg--”
He gave her no time to finish as he yanked the vase out of her hands and stormed back to Valentina’s room, throwing the door open with such force that it thundered against the wall, leaving a substantial dent behind before swinging shut behind him. With his mind consumed by jealousy, he was unprepared for the sight of Valentina standing by the bed, naked.
She was spectacular. She was perfection. Her black hair swung in a glossy curtain over her shoulders as she turned her head toward him in surprise. Lush, pert breasts; a smooth, flat stomach that led to perfectly curved hips and shapely legs. Her pussy was bare, the perfectly shaped lips glistening with evidence of the orgasm he had witnessed. Even her feet were beautiful, with her French manicured toes curling nervously into the plush carpet.
His knees nearly buckled as she stared at him with wide, hungry eyes. With each slow, deliberate step he took toward her, she took a step backwards until her knees hit the edge of the bed. In her haste, she lost her footing and fell back onto the bed, scrambling on her back to get away from him.
“Who the fuck is crazy enough to send my woman roses, hmm?” His steps faltered then and he frowned at the sight of her ashen complexion. “What? What has happened? You weren’t afraid of me before, why are you white as a sheet now?”
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she said, her voice becoming high pitched as her chest heaved in her struggle to breathe. “He must have followed me here.”
“Who. Is. He?” The sound of the crystal vase shattering against the wall caused her to jump and bring her hand to her chest.
“Victor, you’re scaring me.” By now her back was pressed against the headboard. She watched in disbelief as he shed his clothes, his shoulders tense, his movements jerky. His shoulders were broad and his chest was massive with thick slabs of defined muscle. Her eyes traveled farther down his torso, her pupils dilating at the sight of his rigid cock straining toward her. Victor Ramirez was big everywhere. His shaft was long and substantial, with thick veins coursing along its length, the head broad and, at the moment, weeping pre-cum. Even his balls were gorgeous and every bit as impressive as his cock as they hung there heavily in a shameless display of undeniable sexual power.
He clasped her ankles and tugged her toward him until she lay flat on the bed, her hair fanning out around her. With her wrists pinned down beside her head, he settled between her thighs, spreading his knees wide to push her legs apart. He grinned as she wriggled beneath him. How amusing that she would think she could prevail against him. He knew he hadn’t imagined her seismic reaction to his earlier caresses; he’d simply have to apply more targeted powers of persuasion to his cause.
She did plenty to keep him busy as she writhed and jerked beneath him, giving as good as she got. It didn’t take him long to recognize her struggling for what it was: sport. She enjoyed the fight as much as he did, maybe more. She wasn’t really trying to get away, he was sure of it. But she wasn’t going to come to him easily either. He had caught himself a hellcat, a damn wet dream come true.
They had both worked up a sweat as they rolled around on the bed, grappling for control in a tangle of limbs, eventually ending up back in the same position they started in. Valentina was lying prone, her breasts quivering temptingly as she gasped for breath beneath him. But instead of pushing him away she was clawing at his skin, pulling him down toward her as her hips strained to meet his. Good girl. Well, she had certainly made her point. Now he would make his.
With slow, smooth rolls of his hips, Victor slid the aching length of his erection along her clitoris, setting a teasing pace that left her wanton and needy beneath him. With a deep breath he pressed his forehead to hers and positioned the aching, weeping head of his cock at her entrance. Skin to skin, her heat enveloped him as he breached her tight entrance and pushed forward, ready to thrust home at last.
“Yes! Ahh!” Her moan of pleasure abruptly gave way to a cry of pain. Victor’s head flew up with a jerk as he pulled back. He struggled to regain his ability to think coherently and take stock of the situation. With a frown, he again pressed forward, this time gently, stopping when she inhaled sharply.
The resistance he encountered was unexpected, but it was most definitely there. Despite his considerable sexual experience, acquired during the years before he discovered Valentina, he had never encountered such a barrier before. But he knew well enough what it was: her hymen. Her virginity was unsullied and intact.
The room had taken on a silent stillness, broken only by their ragged breathing. He slowly, carefully pulled out until the head of his cock was once again nestled between the folds of her sex but not quite inside. The pain would be inevitable, but there was no need to draw it out any longer than necessary. And there were things to be said. He drew a shuddering breath, taking in just enough air to whisper, “Look at me, cariño.”
Valentina turned glistening eyes up to his. A single tear slid down toward her hairline and he brushed it away with his thumb as he cradled her jaw. Wordlessly, their eyes remained locked on each other, each tr
ying to read the other’s thoughts. When he lifted his torso and moved away from her, she turned her head away from him, embarrassed beyond words, thinking that her innocence was somehow a disappointment to him.
Seconds later, the silken slide of Victor’s tongue through the folds of her sex relieved her of such a notion. The sensation of him licking her sensitive flesh and sucking her folds between his lips was nothing short of heavenly. He kissed her pussy as he would her mouth, exploring her with slow, sultry licks before teasing her entrance with deep, sensual thrusts of his tongue. He worshipped the core of her femininity, preparing her for his possession and paying homage to the feminine flesh that would one day bring his children into the world.
Valentina’s hips rocked restlessly against his mouth as her thighs rhythmically clenched and relaxed around his head. He held onto her hips tightly, savoring her flavor as she came hard. While she was still in the throes of a powerful orgasm, he resumed his position between her legs. He entered her and groaned softly when he once again encountered the unmistakable evidence of her innocence.
Gritting his teeth, he drew his hips back and claimed her with a powerful thrust. The sheer power that surged through him in that moment was unlike anything he had ever experienced. She was almost painfully tight as her inner walls quivered around his cock, stealing his breath.
He raised up on his forearms and looked down at their joined flesh. The sight of her virgin blood on his shaft left him euphoric and a little dizzy. In that moment, he was reduced to a creature of pure instinct and began moving inside her in earnest. He was determined to erase her memory of the pain and replace it with pleasure beyond her wildest fantasies.
Victor’s raw sexuality called to Valentina’s deepest feminine desires. She met him thrust for thrust, caress for caress, kiss for kiss. She wasn’t afraid of his fierce possession; she reveled in it. He brought out in her the need to be taken hard, brutally even, by a real man. She hadn’t known that was what she needed, but somehow he had known and that was all that mattered.
“Ah…oh God,” she groaned as lust and pleasure coursed through her body like a wildfire.
“Fuck, you fit me like a glove, pussy’s so fucking tight.” His voice was hoarse and raspy as his jaw clenched with his need for her. He rolled his hips against her, teasing her clit as he pushed deeper into her depths. “Nobody gives you flowers but me. Nobody. Touches. This. Pussy. But. Me.” Each word was emphasized by a brutal thrust of his hips as he pounded into her. Her inner walls clenched, quivering around his length as another orgasm ripped through her, shattering any vestiges of resistance that may have remained.
Victor couldn’t think clearly as the walls of her pussy greedily clamped down on his cock, triggering his own shattering release. He came so hard and so long, it felt like he was being turned inside out.
As the last of the shockwaves receded, he lay prone beside her and struggled to breathe. Out of nowhere he remembered being a small boy and falling out of a tree, how the impact had knocked the wind out of him. He felt that same near-panic now, although this time it was as if a supernatural force was taking him down to his knees.
“Mine.” The single word, although quietly spoken, reverberated through the room like a gunshot. Valentina knew her life would never be the same. “You’re mine, Valentina.”
Despite the ramifications of this profound moment in her journey as a woman, there were things that needed to be discussed, things that couldn’t wait. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she broached the subject. “I think the flowers were from someone who’s been stalking me—just some crazed fan, I think. He, or she, I guess, would do things like steal my underwear or move things around in my dressing room. It happened frequently enough that I knew it was no accident. Do you think he followed me here? How could that be possible? No one knows where I am. No one…”
“Any stalker who’s worth his salt will make a point of knowing more about the details of your life than you do. How long has he been bothering you?” Victor was furious that he hadn’t been aware of this problem earlier so he could have dealt with it. He hated loose ends. They were invariably messy.
“About a year now, I guess. I don’t think he’s dangerous. He’s a nuisance more than anything.”
Victor leaned up on an elbow, “A nuisance, you think? No, my darling, people like that are always delusional. It’s when they realize they can’t have the object of their obsession that they become a real threat. I can assure you that I’m far more obsessed with you than he could ever be. The difference is that you’re mine. Our connection is real. This is real,” he said, rolling over to blanket her body with his once more, entering her in a slow, smooth stroke. “Fuck, you feel like silk,” he said under his breath, smiling against her lips. “And you taste like peaches and cream.”
His hands seemed to move with a mind of their own, exploring the luscious, soft curves that had haunted his dreams for so long. “This isn’t some fantasy. You’d do well to not harbor any mercy for him, whoever he is. When I find him, there will be no mercy. Now, no more talking.”
Though his voice was barely above a raspy whisper, his dark eyes spoke volumes. Valentina found herself her stalker would lose interest and just give up. But she knew that wasn’t likely.
A few days later, Estrella Estrada, smoothed her satin dress over her hips. With a greedy gleam in her eyes, she sashayed down the hall to the conference room where the cast typically held script readings with the director. The hallway was dark now. Most everyone had gone home for the night. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. As the star of the spin-off telenovela, Cuentos de Amorado, her last scene for the day had been set at a cocktail party so she was in one of her character’s sexiest dresses. She only hoped it didn’t stay on too long once she reached her destination.
She had been summoned to the conference room after hours because Victor Ramirez wanted a word…privately. She grinned. Of course, he did. She had been gunning for him for months with no luck. In fact, he seemed to look right through her, even when she had playfully pressed her tits against his arm last week when they rode a crowded elevator together.
It looked like he’d finally come around to her way of thinking. “It sure took him long enough,” she muttered to herself. She would have preferred to fuck him the first time in a bed, but there were plenty of options on the filming set. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been fucked over a table or desk at work, but at least this time there was a good chance she’d enjoy it.
Licking her cosmetically enhanced lips with anticipation, she fluffed her bleach blonde hair and knocked softly on the door. When greeted with silence, she turned the knob and opened the door. No point in waiting.
She stepped into the room and nearly stumbled at the sight of Victor tucking his shirt back into his pants and zipping up…and a disheveled Valentina Vargas moving away from the conference table as she straightened her skirt.
Well, this was unexpected but she prided herself on her ability to go with the flow. There were worse things than a threesome, especially if the cock involved belonged to a Ramirez.
“Well,” she said as she slipped a finger under her shoulder strap and let it drop over her arm, “I hope I’m not too late--”
“Anyone ever tell you to wait for permission to enter after you knock?” Victor’s voice was clipped and more than a little irritated.
She paused, frowning. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d have--”
“Never mind,” he said, his eyes lingering on the progress of Valentina’s hands as she straightened her clothes. “Let’s get this meeting started. First, introductions. Estrella Estrada? Valentina Vargas. Valentina? Estrella. Now, have a seat, please.”
Estrella slid her shoulder strap back into place and pasted a fake smile on her face as she straightened her spine and crossed the room to exchange insincere air kisses with Valentina. “Welcome, darling, I’m such a big fan.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, thank you so much,” Valen
tina said as she stepped toward the conference table, blushing as Victor directed her to sit in a chair that had been haphazardly shoved away from the table. The scene of the crime, perhaps. Great.
“So, why am I here?” Estrella saw no point in pleasantries now. A little humiliation would do that to a girl.
“Estrella, we’re making some changes, shaking things up. Los dos Idiomas has taken Valentina on as talent. She’ll be taking a leading role in Cuentos de Amorado as your character’s long-lost sister. We’re starting with an amnesia storyline to introduce her to viewers. From there, I’m not sure what we’ll do. Maybe have her become a nun,” he said with a mischievous grin at Valentina. “I called you in tonight to make the introductions and to ask you to look out for her as she settles in.”
With her smile frozen firmly in place, Estrella nodded and replied, “Of course. It will be my pleasure to make sure she knows how things work around here.”
“Good,” he said absently as his hungry gaze lingered on Valentina’s lips. “Her happiness is very, very important – to Los dos Idiomos and to me.”
Chapter Twelve
Two weeks later, Estrella was rehearsing her lines in her dressing room. With a perfect tilt of her head, her mane of bleached blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder and down her back. She swept her hands through the air to better express the emotions she needed to convey for the first scene on tomorrow’s call sheet.
She had to be at her best. She couldn’t afford to be complacent so she had stayed to rehearse long after the rest of the cast and crew had left for the night.
With that new bitch Valentina around, Estrella knew she needed to be at the top of her game. She was the star of this show, damn it. If Victor Ramirez’s whore thought she was going to come in and take over as the star of Cuentos de Amorado, the U.S.-based spinoff of Cuentos de Amor, she had another think coming.