Velvet Crowe Novels & Stories

I straightened my back, made sure the webcam did not get an unflattering chin shot, and took a deep breath. The woman on the other side had blonde hair, and also wore red lipstick. She had on a blazer and a blue shirt, and when she saw me she smiled a pearly white smile. "You are Jane Rozen?" She asked me, I quickly nodded. "My name is Gwen, I am one of the people administering the test. Your answers seem to match with the prince's." She paused for a second as I saw her eyes dance over a page she had in front of her. "Have you ever been to Medora before?" Something had changed in her voice, she started off all happy and bubbly, but now she looked more distrusting.

The banners overhead shifted faintly in the air currents, Everley’s deep blue and silver nearest the eastern stair, Hawthorne’s forest green toward the west, Nerezza’s dark crimson lining the shadowed corridor, and the gold-threaded black of Aurelian hanging alone near the center like a reminder of something reclaimed. We paused just inside the doors. Not intentionally. Just long enough for the ripple to reach us. “I thought Wren lived in Aetherwind coven territory.” “She does.” Elara Veymont stood near the base of the Everley staircase, posture immaculate, dark hair pinned precisely. Her gaze slid from me to Kaia and back again, sharp and assessing. Not scandalized. Interested. Stormhollow

Curvy Fate in Velvet Chains Chapter 21: The Sister The car sped through the rain-slicked streets. City lights blurred past the windows in streaks of neon and gold. I sat in the passenger seat still wearing the red dress from the gala. The silk clung to my skin damp from the rain and the chaos we had left behind. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. Elena drove with focused intensity. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly. She was beautiful in a sharp dangerous way. High cheekbones. Dark hair pulled back severely. Eyes that had seen too much and survived it all. She was Victor’s weapon. Raised in the shadows. Trained to obey. And she was my half-sister. A stranger who had just

Poured another whiskey. His phone buzzed. Vanessa. Did you see the Post? That woman from the gala is all over Page Six. "Mystery CEO Steals the Show at Cross Charity Event." They’re saying she’s the most interesting person to hit New York since— He didn’t finish reading. He set the phone face down on the desk.

The candles went out. Author’s Note - The Crimson Veil began as a late-night idea about what might happen if logic met temptation in its purest, most dangerous form. Evelyn’s curiosity is my own: the need to understand what we fear, even when it leads us somewhere we can’t easily return from. This story mixes gothic atmosphere, mystery, and forbidden connection—a slow burn between intellect and instinct. Every chapter was written and refined by hand, inspired by old literature and the darker side of human emotion.

I could feel Rowan staring at my ass as I walked but I managed to keep my eyes in front as I approached the other Valentino twin. As soon as I neared him, he took my hand and pulled me to his lap. I turned around, straddling him properly and the first thing he did was hold my chin, bringing my face down for a kiss. His tongue swiped at my bottom lip and I opened my lips. His hot tongue found mine immediately as they clashed. He sucked on my tongue and bit my lip gently before he pulled away. "Why are you suddenly shy?" "I've never — I haven't —"

Reyes recovered on a chair, eyes never leaving the way her body took Crow’s thrusts. Crow fucked her hard and deep, hands digging into the bruises already forming on her hips. Harlan held her hair and pushed into her throat until her nose pressed against his stomach. She gagged, spit running freely, but she stayed open for him. Vance reached under her and rubbed her clit again, rough and relentless, until a second orgasm ripped through her. Her whole body shook. Crow felt her clamp down and kept fucking her through it until he came, flooding her cunt while she was still twitching.

“I'm not scared of you, my little pretty pet. You came at the wrong time, baby, you see this masterpiece right here? It would soon be auditioning for the state's best art. So, I have to give it priority.” “Elias!” I yelled, “I'm not your pet, do not call me any other names apart from Crane.” I warned and quickly pulled out the gun from my waist band. “Swear to me that you do not like those names flowing from my tongue. The same tongue that could take your entire body to see the stars. You can't possibly kill me now, wait till I've shown you just what you deserve, then you can kill me, my sweet sugar plum. Just put the gun down.”

"Is this what you want?" "Yes it is, sir." "Then listen to me very carefully," He ordered. "Once we enter this room, I will use you in any which way that I please. Tonight, you belong to me.' Only giving him a small nod, his grip on my wrist tightened. "Use your words, Eve . Who do you belong to?" "You, sir. I belong only to you." "And tell me, what is your safe word?" "Cherry." Letting go of my wrist, he pulled another key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Slowly pushing it open, he allowed me to walk through first. The smell of vanilla and wood filled my nose.

The arena still thrummed with leftover bass even though the house lights had come up twenty minutes ago. Caleb Morrow stood in the narrow concrete corridor behind the stage, VIP laminate dangling from his neck like a medal he hadn’t earned yet. Twenty-four years old, graphic designer by day, devoted stan of Nova Voss by every waking (and most sleeping) hour since her debut single dropped four years ago. He’d spent three months’ rent on contest entries, refreshed the app at 3 a.m., screamed when the notification hit: *Congratulations. You’ve won the exclusive meet-and-greet + backstage tour.*