Precious Moments Dark Hair Novels & Stories

All her life she'd been picked last or not at all, and now someone made her their first pick. It's no big deal, she kept chanting to herself. Except tomorrow she'd be standing front and center with her crazy, unruly hair alongside these beautiful women. On one side would be Lacey, blonde, slim, perfect in white. On Coco's other was Omarosa, a model gorgeous woman who worked for National Geographic with skin so dark it glowed. And her hair. Coco had so much envy over the woman's sleek, a long curtain of jet-black hair she could scream.

She’s fucking gorgeous. Her skin tone takes more after Hakeem than JoJo’s does, making her darker than her twin with a coppery undertone to it. But her long black hair is a combination of Hakeem’s and Meredith’s, meaning that it is slightly kinky, but shiny and smooth. Her hair, which she always wears up and out of her face, actually falls down below her ass and curtains her beauty the few times that I’ve seen it. Even with how long we’ve been together, she has only allowed me to see her hair in all its full glory when we’ve showered together. Today, she has her hair in a high ponytail with curls cascading down her back. I can’t wait to smell it as I move inside of her later.

I whisper, feeling embarrassed by my sudden anxiety. My mom smiled then. "Oh, my sweet boy." She said, shaking her head. Her long black hair was pulled into a messy braid, loose ringlets sticking to her forehead. The baby had the same hair color, unlike Hayes and me with our dark brown. "You could never hurt her, I see the way you already love her. That's what makes you so special."

She must be tough to deal with. I noticed how luminous her skin as the moon's soft glow kissed it. The pale radiance seemed to emanate from within, a testament to her supernatural essence. I marveled at the flawless canvas, appreciating the delicate balance between ethereal fragility and untamed strength. Her hair cascaded like midnight silk, a cascade of darkness that framed her features with an elegance befitting a queen. Yes, I want her to become my queen. I found myself entranced by the way each strand moved in harmony with the night breeze—a dance of shadows and moonlight. The inky waves seemed to capture the essence of the night itself, weaving a tapestry of enchantment around her.

The moment she stands, my breath catches, and my hand tightens around the stem of my wine glass. My eyes instantly widen as she appears on the screen, the camera capturing her every detail. Her long, white hair cascades down her back, stopping just at her waist, a stunning contrast to the dark fabric of her dress. The soft waves of her hair seem to glow under the lights, each strand catching the subtle shimmer of the room, as if she were illuminated from within.

The black hair—the same hair Zion wrapped around his fingers while he fucked me until I forgot my own name, the same hair Elias brushed from my face with a tenderness that broke my heart, the same hair Luka held like reins while he possessed me with that devastating precision—falls straight and dark over the shoulders of the cheap coat I bought at the first store I found. My natural hair. Black as night, black as Zion’s eyes, black as the secrets I have carried for decades. I pick up the box of blonde dye bought at the corner pharmacy along with the disposable scissors. Not salon blonde, not the sophisticated blonde of a woman who has time and money to take care of herself. The aggressive, a

Grayson Hudson had first laid eyes on the blond woman at the police award ceremony that was held at the Vintage, the medal adorned the neck of an absolutely beautiful woman, he had never seen such beauty since his mother had passed on eleven years ago. He had been so mesmerized by her, he could not stop his gaze from drifting back to her. She had been dressed in black, which made her hair stick out more, such a contrast from the rest of her clothing, it flowed down her back in waves. Her lips had been tainted a deep shade of red. She had been extremely pale as compared to his tanned self.

"It’s a designer clip, you dork. Give it here." She grabs it from me and gently lifts my silver hair, leaving some strands messy and loose on purpose. She clips the pin in, and suddenly, my hair stays in place like it was professionally styled. We both stare at my reflection for a whole minute. The silver hair, the black mesh, the emerald of Pippa’s dress in the background. Pippa has a genuine, proud smile on her face. "Say something, Pippa," I squeak, feeling the weight of the moment.

Raven POV A woman stands behind me, long dark black hair cascading over her shoulders, bright green eyes twinkling, her complexion like pale porcelain, a simple white dress gathering tight around her bodice and then flowing down to her ankles, her feet bare. She’s stunning. Ethereal. A mature-aged woman who resembles me. I know instantly who she is and my eyes widen in disbelief. For so long I’ve dreamed of this moment, and now that it’s here, it confirms my worst thoughts. I’m dead. I have to be. Grace Sinclair can't be here otherwise.

Afterwards, there was lush black hair and when the feminine figure rose to her feet, I was beyond stunned. She had straight black hair that poured down her shoulders and her porcelain skin was void of blemishes. She had black Dolce Shades covering her eyes but I could still see her shimmering lips that were perfectly glossed, pursed in a slight frown. My eyes dropped to her attire and I found myself sucking in some breath.