Goth X Palette Sin Novels & Stories

I saw her nostrils flare as she sniffed, Raelynn’s bloody lips. “As l thought she was poisoned but this scent is woodsy”, Zara’s hands began to move over Raelynn’s constrictive dress and roamed along her body. I could see her moving her hands over Raelynn’s stomach most of the times. “She is not the one being affected by the poison , it was aconitum napellus, since she is a human , she is immune”,

I have a boy-fucking-friend and lusting for that fucker shouldn't be part of the plan. He's not just my neighbour. He's the enemy. My enemy, and my family's enemy. Damien fucking Vincenzo is a bastard hiding behind a body that looks to be sculpted by the gods themselves. And if I should get the chance, I will carve his skin, inch by every bloody inch and feed his eyes to the Vultures for everything he made me go through at Crescent high. And again. I have a boyfriend. My sinfully hot neighbor who's walking around butt naked in a fucking glass penthouse without curtains shouldn't be a distraction right?

Tissue paper rustled and she drew out a dress. It was breathtaking: a midnight black sleek satin, a plunging V-neckline with sheer illusion mesh panel that would reveal the inner swell of my breasts and the delicate line between them. The bodice was fitted, structured to cinch my waist and accentuate every curve before flaring dramatically at the knees. The fabric shimmered like liquid jewel under the light, rich, vivid, impossible to ignore. A dress designed to turn heads, to stop conversations, to make headlines the moment I stepped into a room. The second box opened to reveal a professional makeup kit: palettes of jewel-toned shadows, high-end foundations, contour kits, a dozen lip shades

‘Care to explain why you choose to come out now? Rose was a gorgeous black and slim wolf. She was powerful but clumsy sometimes. Rose shrugged. ‘I don’t feel like talking earlier. Plus, I love music. Let’s celebrate your wedding, Natasha! Hurray!’ My mouth gaped open. I envy her happiness for tomorrow’s event, while I feel like I will attend my funeral tomorrow. Why was my life so unfair? Hurt and feeling betrayed, I disregarded her and focused on my surroundings. The smell of sweat and cheap cologne hit my nose (again), which nearly made me gag. Their sweaty bodies stuck to my skin. Can't even wipe off sweat.

And until he had news (a clue, the jerk) I wouldn't hear anything. I reached out to him, felt the connection between us, but that was all I felt. He was either too far away or-damn it, Syd, stop that. Stop. That. Right. Now. The shower was hot and immediate and helped with some of the redness and puffies I always got from crying. At least, it made the rest of me pink so I matched. I dressed in black jeans and a T-shirt with a pentagram screen printed in silver. The ideal apparel for Blood's send-off. I even used some of the black eye liner Pain had given me for my birthday. My reflection was kind of badass. Meet Syd, el Gotho.

There was no Father John to taunt me and no one to look at me with that knowing gaze. I curled myself up in my bed. My eyes lingered longer than usual on the Ceiling until they became blurry. The faint sound of children laughing outside, the faded echoes of footsteps, bells chiming. Each time I closed my eyes, I was there again. Standing helplessly, his hands gripping the back of my neck, his breath fanning my cheeks as he whispered. “You were born in sin Simon, but I will cleanse you of that sin.” I turned my face burying it into the pillow, trying to shake off the memory.

I summon my courage and look up. And there he is, like the king of the underworld, walking out of the dark, his hands stained with blood, and the other hand clutching the throat of one of the thugs. He really appeared, it's him, the king of hell, Leonardo Cassano. A demon who became my salvation tonight.

Quentin remained buried deep inside Verity for several long moments, his body draped over hers as their breathing gradually slowed. The room was thick with the scent of their passion—sweat, sex, and the faint salt of the ocean drifting through the open glass doors. His heart pounded against her back, strong and steady, while her own pulse thrummed in her ears like the waves below the cliffs. Slowly, he eased out of her with a shared groan, careful not to jostle her oversensitive body.

A patch of soft, baby skin peeked out from beneath her dress, adding even more to her allure. I then buried my face in her groin and stuck out my tongue. Lola couldn't hold in her moans and let out a soft whimper. Then, she begged, "I can't hold it in anymore, Uncle Kyle! Please, just fill me up." I couldn't possibly refuse such a direct request. So, I got down on my knees behind her, grabbed her by her two side ponytails, and forcefully thrust my hips forward.

It pressed against Jun’s skin, a physical weight that made the fine hairs on his arms stand up. Jun risked a glance upward through his lashes. Min looked like a statue carved from obsidian and ice. The morning light, filtered through the rain-streaked floor-to-ceiling windows, washed him in cold greys. He was wearing a fresh white shirt now, crisp and unwrinkled, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle, the kind of muscle built through violence. He hated to admit it, but the sight of those sleeve tattoos pushed Min's sexiness to a 100/10. Every time he saw Min on his private social media page, he tried to make out the tattoos.