Pink Venom Dance Novels & Stories

"It was made by Pablo. Normally I would have sent my people to come for the fitting but since it was Madame Martin, I had to come myself." "She's a big customer?" I asked. "She's a lovely customer. Big on spending too." He winked and I shook my head. "Would you like to try the second one?" He asked while I stared at myself in the mirror. "What color is the second one?" "Lavender." He replied. "But just straight, doesn't have this little flay." He added, holding my waist. I considered the option for a minute and sighed. "Let's show the gown to the ladies and then we can try on the second one.

Golden even when he was being filthy. I stayed in the booth, nursing my drink, the bass thumping through my veins. The anger from dinner was still there, simmering under the surface, but the alcohol and atmosphere were dulling the edges. My eyes scanned the club lazily. Then I saw him. On one of the smaller side stages, under shifting teal and purple lights, a male dancer moved like liquid sin. Lean but toned body, pale skin that glowed under the neons, messy dark hair falling into his eyes. He wore nothing but tight black shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination and a harness across his chest. Every roll of his hips, every arch of his back, every slow grind against the pole — it h

Neon lights—electric blue and hot pink—flashed across the crowded dance floor, painting writhing bodies in frenetic bursts of color. I led Damon and Dayton through the throng, the sticky floor vibrating under my boots, the club’s chaotic energy a stark contrast to the smoldering ruins we’d left at Black Fang. My silver eyes scanned the room, sharp and alert, knowing vampires thrived in places like this, hidden among the human revelry. Damon trailed behind, his lemon eyes narrowed with distaste, his black shirt clinging to his bandaged shoulder. “How’d that guard know you?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the pounding music, his tone laced with suspicion.

The lights shined down on the stage in front of me, and a sexy silver-haired woman walked up to the pole. Vixen winked at me before she started dancing. She had changed into a simple black long-sleeved bodysuit. The tattoo on her hip could be seen, and as she turned around, her sexy ass cheeks were on display. She was barefoot while the other strippers had on heels. I liked how I was the only one by the couches because it made me feel like Vixen was dancing for me and me alone.

Salty, competitive lemmings. As Patrick watched, Linda suddenly danced into view. Literally danced. She twirled and leapt, her faded pink nightgown ballooning around her. Her feet were bare and filthy as she stepped lightly toward the older man and held out a hand. “Dance with me, Big Daddy. I’ve missed you so.”

"Like right here? Or do you think you can make it to our room?" "I didn't know voyeurism was your kink, but I'll give anything a go," he runs his fingers and the accompanying tingles down my arms. "You two are gross! We're still at a crowded wedding, your wedding, you know?" Jayvon comments. I'd completely forgotten he was standing right there. Before either Enzi or I can comment, Emily pulls Enzi to the dance floor. "Come on, show me your Alpha dance moves before you two end up putting on a show you might regret."

This is her kingdom after all. When we reach the bottom of the steps, I see a line of handsome men waiting to ask both my mother and I to dance. She pushes me smoothly forward to the arms of a man whose skin is translucent underneath. I watch as supernovas explode beneath his skin. Rich pink and purples, oranges and blues dance about. His eyes are black as the night and his hair hangs in a ponytail of glittering gold. I smile, accepting his hands, unable to look away as the colours burst like fireworks.

Violet's heart sank with realization. "Follow my lead," Vesper whispered, guiding her into the dance. Vanilla and citrus mixed with pine and rose, a journey of scent through the elven kingdoms in attendance. Violet breathed deep, trying to steady herself among the crowd as Vesper guided her through the steps. Everywhere she looked expressionless faces met her. The masks had seemed beautiful at first but the deeper she waded into the dance, the stranger they became. One was a many-headed bird. Another covered completely in eyes. Platinum wings sprouted from the cheeks of a high-ranking lady. One Parvara nobleman's mask looked like it had melted onto his face, leaving him to laugh through the

The dimly lit bar was a sanctuary for the weary and the wicked alike. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and the low hum of conversation, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. Chase Almonte leaned against the polished mahogany counter, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge. He had always been a man of ambition, but lately, that ambition had twisted into something darker, fueled by a burning hatred for his niece, Desire.

“I think they want to, but something is holding them back. We all know the war isn’t over. The leader of the witches is still out there, waiting for the right moment to attack. And both mine and Damien’s old packs still see us as enemies.” Raven nodded. “I understand, but it’s important to celebrate our victories, no matter how small. If we let fear take this from us, then we’re already losing.” Determined to set the mood, Raven turned to Damien. “Dance with me.” He smirked. “Always.” Hand in hand, they stepped onto the empty dance area just as the music shifted into a slow, melodic tune. Damien pulled her close, his hands resting on her waist, while hers settled around his neck. They moved