Sinful Lashes Novels & Stories

One hand held a glass of whiskey while the other rested lazily against the armrest. He looked relaxed. Calm. But the moment his eyes lifted and landed on me Everything changed. The glass in his hand stopped moving. His expression hardened instantly. And the temperature in the room seemed to rise dangerously. For a second, neither of us spoke. Sebastian slowly stood up. His dark eyes moved over my body with painful slowness. Taking in every detail. The red lace. My bare legs. The thin straps rested against my shoulders. The hunger in his eyes nearly weakened my knees.

He shoved himself as deep as he could go, stilled, and said, “Open up your eyes. I said that you were going to watch.” When I reopened my eyes, he started up once more, ramming his cock into my hole and staring intently at me through the reflection. His dark eyes turned into fiery golden pools, the way they had the other night when he told me he would take care of those girls at the bar. It was the sinister side of him that everyone feared. Everyone, except me. “Oh my Goddess …” “Come on my cock, mate.” My claws dug into the drywall. I threw my head back, my gaze still focused on those piercing eyes, and felt my legs tremble underneath me. He held me up with his brute strength as an orgasm r

As Scott is out tonight, I decide to use the time wisely. I was my legs, under arms and bikini line; paint my nails, spray on fake tan and inspired by the models in my magazine, I stick on false eyelashes. I end up with three lashes stuck successfully to my lid and so much glue that I look as though I’ve developed cataracts.

Black lotions, black eyeliners, black clothes. They ruffled my dark auburn hair and let it down. One of them worked with the hair while the other concentrated on my face. Slowly I couldn't recognize the image in the mirror. My dainty nose was brushed up with a glittery substance. My eyelids were layered with what looked like black paint and my eyelashes were lined with black eyeliner. My cheeks were dusted with a red powdery substance and my formerly small jaw was enunciated with some pomade.

With my free hand, I wrap the small, black, silky blindfold over her eyes. “Sin.” She arches her back.

"We’re starting with internal forces in beams. And don't look at me like that. I’m only here so my mom doesn't get fired." I didn't even hear the part about the beams. All I could focus on were her lips. She had this perfect lip combo done—a brown liner with a glossy finish that made them look... soft. And her lashes? She’d done this cat-eye design that made her eyes look sharp enough to cut glass. "Marcus?" she barked, tapping her pen on the table. "Are you listening or did the mop water finally seep into your brain?" "Yeah," I croaked, my voice sounding like I’d swallowed sandpaper. "Beams. Internal stuff. Got it."

Lestat was not someone ugly or handsome, he was stunning, he was the most beautiful person I had ever seen, even if Marcus was angelically beautiful, Lestat was breathtaking. His skin has an amber tint, and his eyes are golden, but around the iris, near the lens, there is a reddish circle that blends with the gold and instead of having a completely dark pupil, the darkness blends with the red that resembles blood in motion, his eyelashes are long and naturally voluminous, which were now with black eyeliner on the bottom highlighting his eyes even more. The nose descends perfectly symmetrical, the tip more square, then come those plump lips of a nude hue that were glossy as if they were wet a

Slowly, I felt him lie back, so I was lying on him, and he was staring up at the sky. We fell into another comfortable silence, his steady heartbeat a worthy company for me. I melted further into him, the tears leaving. Why would I need to cry when I was perfectly content? I know now. I keep coming back to Keanne, not just because he is so beautiful, or because he is so powerful, so magical, or because he was my mate. It is because he was deeply stained in every color of sin. I am a sinner, and I love to sin.