Velvetの小説

BLAIREThe cold marble of the kitchen counter bit into the backs of my thighs, but the fire radiating from Raymond’s body made the chill vanish in an instant. He didn't wait for a response. He didn't ask for permission. His hand fisted in the delicate silk of my peach robe and with one violent, downward jerk, the fabric gave way. The sound of the silk ripping was loud in the quiet kitchen, a sharp protest that ended with the robe hanging in useless tatters around my elbows.I was exposed, my breasts heaving, the marks Richard had left on my collarbone glowing like brandings under the fluorescent lights. Raymond’s eyes darkened, a predatory hunger washing over his features as he took in the sight of me. He didn't look at me like a husband or a protector; he looked at me like a man who had finally cornered the prey he’d been tracking for a thousand days."Look at you," he growled, his voice a low vibration that I felt in my very marrow. "Soaking wet for me before I’ve even touched you p

BLAIRE While I was still trying to comprehend what Richard just said ,he opened the door and Raymond was standing there. He didn't look like a man who had just come from a funeral; he looked like a man who had been watching a fire burn through a window. His leather jacket was still zipped tight, his jaw set in a hard, jagged line. He didn't even look at his brother. His eyes, dark and predatory, were locked on me, on the way I was huddled under the sheets, my hair a bird's nest and my lips swollen from Richard’s mouth."Business emergency at the docks," Raymond whispered, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that seemed to vibrate in the very floorboards. He didn't move his gaze from my face. "The Gills are acting up. I might not be back until the sun is up, Rich. Keep an eye on her ."Richard nodded, his gentle mask firmly back in place, and followed Raymond out. The click of the door closing behind them felt like a stay of execution. I let out a jagged, broken sigh of relief, my lungs fi

BLAIREThe sweat was still drying on my skin, my breath finally beginning to level out, when Richard’s hand tightened on my breast. He didn't pull away. Instead, he shifted his weight, his thick, spent cock sliding out of me with a wet, heavy sound that made me shiver. I felt the cooling heat of his cum beginning to trickle down my thigh, a messy reminder of what we’d just done in our dead husband’s bed."Don't move, Blaire," he whispered, his voice losing every bit of its honeyed softness.He didn't give me a chance to respond. He grabbed my hips and flipped me over until I was facedown against the silk pillows, my ass pushed high into the air. The black lace of my mourning dress was still bunched around my waist, a dark stain against my pale skin. He stayed behind me, his chest pressing into my back, his breath hot and ragged against my neck."Three years," he growled, his hand reaching down to catch my jaw, forcing my head back so I had to see our reflection in the vanity mirror. "

BLAIREThe mattress dipped under Richard’s weight, the expensive springs groaning as he moved over me. He didn't pull the dress off completely yet; he let it hang around my waist, the black lace bunched up and abrasive against my hips. He wanted the contrast, the formal elegance of my mourning clothes against the raw, naked hunger of my skin."Richard, please," I gasped, my hands fumbling with his silk tie, my fingers shaking so hard I could barely get a grip. "I can’t... I’ve been waiting so long.""I know you have," he whispered, his voice vibrating against my collarbone. He caught my wrists, pinning them back against the pillows with one hand. With the other, he reached down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my silk panties. He didn't rip them; he peeled them down with a slow, agonizing precision that made my breath hitch.I was already soaking, the scent of my own arousal heavy and sharp in the cool air of the suite. When he saw the dampness staining the silk, a dark, pri

The silence in the mansion wasn't peaceful; it was heavy, like the velvet curtains muffled every breath I tried to take. Manuel was gone. Three years of watching him dying from cancer had turned me into a shadow that left me hollow, a shell of the woman I used to be. I stood by the window of the master suite, staring out at the rain-soaked gardens, still wearing that damn black lace dress. It felt like a costume.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the mahogany casket. I felt the judgmental stares of the Mafia wives who wondered how soon I’d trade my black veil for red lipstick. They didn't know that I had been starving in this house for a thousand days.I heard the door click. I didn't turn around. I knew the weight of that step. It was steady, rhythmic, and lacked the violent edge that usually followed his brother."You haven’t moved in hours , Blaire., the maid told me you refused to come down for Dinner" Richard’s voice was like warm honey, smooth and dangerous. He didn't stomp in

PENELOPE POVIf anything, the risk had made him harder, more demanding. He looked down at me, his eyes dark and blown out, reflecting the mess I was, my face flushed, my makeup probably smeared, and my mouth still stretched wide around him."Finish it, Penny," he growled, his voice a low, vibrating rumble. "Suck your stepbrother's cock until I blow it all down your throat."I didn't need to be told twice. I wrapped both hands around the base of his thick, veiny shaft, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. I started moving my head in a fast, messy rhythm, my tongue swirling around the wet head of his cock. I wanted to hear him break. I wanted that calm, steady voice he’d used with his father to shatter into a million pieces.I took him deep, my throat stretching as I felt the weight of him hitting the back of my mouth. I could feel the pulse of his blood through the skin of his cock. Daniel let out a sharp, jagged hiss, his hands slamming onto the marble counter behind him for balan