Chapter 6 Valentina
VALENTINA
Fuck. I don’t even have words for this—because I’ve never felt anything like it before.
My whole body is trembling, shivering, alive in a way I didn’t know is possible.
The soft drag of lips against the inside of my thigh is fire and ice at once, every kiss leaving sparks that climb higher, higher, making my chest ache with anticipation I can’t name.
It’s new. All of it. The wet heat between my legs, the ache in my stomach, the dizzy swirl in my head—it’s a storm I’ve only ever imagined but never stepped into until now.
I’ve read about it, heard about it, wondered, but none of that prepares me for the way my skin feels stretched too tight over the sheer need rushing through me.
I don’t know if this is what falling in love is supposed to feel like, or if it’s something else entirely, but I do know one thing: it’s the first time I’ve ever felt this alive.
My hips instinctively arch toward the sensation, seeking more. A moan slips from my lips before I can stop it, my voice thick with drowsy desire as I push closer and closer.
“Oh God…” I breathe out, the name half a whisper, half a plea. The kisses pause for just a moment, and I hear a low chuckle that sends shivers down my spine. I squirm underneath the vibrations, my body humming.
“Wrong guy, Angel,” the voice says in a smooth, almost teasing way, but definitely not in a Johnny way; in fact I distinctly remember Johnny throwing in back on a guy, so him being here is totally not likely.
My eyes flutter open, panic and confusion mixing with the arousal still pooling between my legs. I try to move my arms, only to feel the cold bite of metal around my wrists. Handcuffs. My heart races as I realize they are secured above my head, pinning me in place.
Fuck, where the hell am I? I am at a club with Lexi and Johnny, cool…went to the bathroom. I am kidnapped, fucking fantastic. I try to escape…get caught by some infuriatingly hot asshole who clearly enjoys dragging me back. I am brought upstairs and lights out again.
I glance down and see that tangle of green between my thighs, his dark brown eyes heavy-lidded and molten as they drag up to meet mine.
There’s something almost intoxicating in the way he looks at me—like he’s drunk on the taste of me, drunk on the sight of me.
His lips hover just inches from my core, warm breath ghosting over sensitive skin, while his arms tighten around my thighs, anchoring me there as though he’ll never let me go.
“Isaiah?” I ask, my voice trembling as I try to make sense of the situation. His face comes into view, his dark eyes glittering with amusement and something far more primal. He leans over me, his breath warm against my skin as he leans in and presses a kiss against my panties.
How I ended up in this bed wearing an oversized Blink 182 shirt that smells like cloves and fresh sea salt, with nothing but the hot pink thong I wore out clubbing, is beyond me.
But watching the masterpiece of muscle that is his body curled around my thighs—even in the dim light—is damn near hot enough to make me forget.
“Fucking hell, I love the way you say that.” His fingers brush along my thigh, teasingly close to where I need him most. I squirm, my body betraying me as another wave of heat washes over me.
I shake against the handcuffs, because despite this guy being totally my type, and knowing that he probably did a bit more than kiss my inner thigh to get my pussy quivering to this extent, he still kidnapped me and I have to think with my head, not my pussy.
“Isaiah,” I say again, narrowing my eyes as I tighten my thighs around his neck. The pressure makes him blink up at me with a weak, cocky smile, his fingertips digging harder into my hips.
“You gonna let me into Valhalla, Angel?” he whispers, his face flushing pink from the clamp of my thighs around his head. His lips find my skin again, this time closer to the apex of my thighs.
“Are you calling my pussy heaven?” I snarl, snapping my ankles together across the middle of his back and shoving him closer to my center.
He chuckles, the sound low and taunting, his breath spilling hot against my damp lips. “I bet it is.”
“You’ll never know,” I growl, twisting my hips.
His nose grazes across me and holy fucking shit—I shiver.
It’s been too long. And as my head clears from my possibly drug induced state, I force myself to remember the darkness of his eyes, the way his teasing smirk always steals the air from my lungs before I can look away.
“You wouldn’t do that to me,” he teases, pressing his tongue flat against the thin fabric.
The heat of it seeps through instantly, making me jolt as if he’s branded me.
“Bring me the nectar of the gods and steal it from me? No.” He smiles against my lips before pressing his lips to them, and fucking hell I could scream. “My goddess wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Godess?”
“Yeah, you don’t know who you are?” He takes a deep breath, pulling the top of my thong tight. It slides between my pussy lips wrapping loosely around my clit, and I suck in a sharp breath as the cotton fabric digs into a sensitive, and soaked pussy.
“You’re insane,” I hiss, trying to hide my moan with annoyance.
“True,” he grunts, gripping my hips and slamming my pelvis painfully into the mattress, as he pulls against my lock, forcing my legs to fall open again. “But I can’t eat this pussy if you kill me.”
“Who said I wanted you to--”
He presses a soft kiss right where I need him most, and I let out a shaky moan, my back arching off the bed. “God, you’re so fucking wet already,” he murmurs against me, his breath hot and teasing. “Knew you’d be like this.”
“Wait—” I gasp, but he doesn’t listen. His tongue drags through my folds, and my head falls back, a broken sound slipping from me as my hips buck against him on their own. The sunlight cuts through the blinds, striping across my face in sharp, blinding lines.
“I have already waited so long for this,” he hums against my clit. “I can’t wait any longer.”
“W-what? You’ve been waiting-” I gasp irregularly moving in sync with the long strokes of his tongue, and my eyes squeeze shut.
He chuckles again, the vibrations making me shiver as he teases me, lapping at me with torturous skill. “For so long, gorgeous, ever since the first time I saw you.” He kisses my clit with a tenderness that makes my breath come out shakily. “I knew I fucking needed you.”
I feel Isaiah’s lips press firmly against my core, his tongue swirling and teasing with relentless precision. His hands grip my thighs, holding me open as if I were a feast he can’t resist. I whimper, my body betraying me as I arch into his mouth, desperate for more.
“Fuck Isaiah-” I cry, pushing my pussy against his lips and grinding against his tongue.
“Watch me,” he murmurs, pulling back my desperation and forcing me to open my eyes and look at him. His gaze is dark, possessive, and utterly hypnotic. “I want you to watch me make you cum all over my face.”
My breath hitches, the sensation of his warm tongue against my sensitive folds sending a jolt of electricity through my entire body.
Before I can even form the word stop—not that I would, not with the way he’s making me feel—my body is already giving in.
The back of my mind hisses no, this is wrong, but the thought only sharpens the ache building inside me.
Every flicker of guilt twists tighter around my ribs, feeding the heat instead of cooling it.
The urge to push for more claws at me, relentless, precisely because I shouldn’t want this.
I’m pressed beneath the man who stole me, and every shiver, every breath, every rise of pleasure feels like a sin I can’t stop committing.
He dives back in, his tongue lapping at me with a fervor that rips the breath from my lungs.
It’s as if he’s savoring me—every drop, every shudder, every broken whimper that slips past my lips.
My hands strain against the cuffs, the cold metal cutting deeper into my wrists as waves of pleasure crash through me, chaining me as tightly as the restraints themselves.
His tongue works over me with merciless intent, every stroke a punishment wrapped in pleasure, leaving me thrashing against the cuffs and utterly at his mercy.
Heat pools low in my belly, coiling tighter and tighter with each stroke, my body betraying me with every shiver.
God, he’s good, the thought sears through me, leaving me dizzy.
He knows exactly how to break me down, how to make me surrender—and I’m slipping fast.
“Isaiah,” I moan, my voice trembling with desperation and disbelief.
His name tastes like a sin on my tongue, and it spurs him on.
His movements grow hungrier, darker, as if devouring me.
His grip on my thighs tightens, locking me wide open, holding me there as if I’m nothing but his captive prize.
As if I could fight him. As if I even wanted to.
He doesn’t stop, his tongue flicking and swirling against my clit with a rhythm that has me seeing stars. I can feel myself teetering on the edge, my body coiled tight like a spring ready to snap.
“That’s it, Angel,” he growls against me, his voice rough and commanding. “You taste like fucking heaven.”
His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through me, and I arch into his mouth, my hips lifting off the bed as I seek more of him, more of this exquisite torture.
But he isn’t done. Just when I think I can’t take anymore, I feel his fingers pressing against my entrance, sliding inside with ease.
I cry out, my hips jerking against him as he curls them just right, hitting that spot that makes my vision blur.
Holy fuck, I think, my mind spinning as he works me over with his tongue and fingers in perfect sync.