Velvet Ribbon Novels & Stories

XIX – After the Rain Jin Sanscroft’s fingers ghosted through the fine velvet that the ribbon was made of as he admired it in the dim glow of the candlelight. It was the shade of a rich, dark purple, glimmering so prettily as he turned it amongst his fingers this way and that–the color of royalty as one of his old tutors from the North had told him–soft and silky to the touch, rippling like molten lilac in his hand. He would have been so pleased at how well it turned out but…

The moment we step through the entrance, Sid practically vibrates with excitement. Her eyes dart from one display to another. "Oh my Goddess." I laugh. "Are you alright?" "No." She points dramatically at a purple gown displayed on a raised platform. "Venus, look at that." I glance toward the dress. It's beautiful. Deep royal purple silk embroidered with golden thread. But before I can comment, Sid grabs my arm. "Do you know what that is?" "Uh…A dress?" She gasps in offense. "Venus, that's La Couronne Violette."

But I’m not alone. No one else is here—but someone has been. At the foot of the bed lies a dress. Vintage-looking, fine as skin. Its fabric is whisper-thin, diaphanous. A drape of gauzy cream that shimmers when the candlelight catches it. The bodice loops together with a single ribbon over the chest—something that can be undone easily—with a tug. My pulse hammers. That ribbon is a promise. Or an invitation. My nipples harden at the thought.

“Think you can have it ready before the royal introduction?” Velora grinned. “Tell your mother to feed that baby well and keep her cozy. I’ll have the dress finished and waiting. Fit for a moon-blessed little princess.” The boys beamed, their hearts swelling with pride. Before they left, Velora handed them a small bundle of gold ribbon. “Here,” she said, smiling gently. “Tie this around her crib for good luck. A tradition from the old bloodlines.” Phoenix took it carefully. “Thank you. We’ll make sure it stays there.”

- the lord was surprised, carefully unfolding the fabric. Telvisina's gift was a thin bracelet made of dark gold with patterns of two intertwined snakes. Tantario immediately recognized this unusual scarlet shade of metal. Many vampires wove a piece of their Power into objects using their own blood. The energy contained in the decoration was reflected in a dark scarlet tint. Knowing that Telvisina would not give him any dirty tricks, Tristan tried on the bracelet on his wrist. It turned out to be a little larger than needed.

My first instinct kicks me to check my phone but once my hand reach out for it, I notice the small box laying over the nightstand. Confusion tightens my brows and I grab the little box in my hand. I open it and immediately, a smile flutters around my mouth. My fingers run over the silk material and a low sigh of contentment parts my lips. It was a ribbon. A blue one. I had the exact same one before, but I lost it. It was my favorite. My gaze drifts to the note sticking to the box and I open it to read the few words scribbled there.

Best present Levi had ever received in his entire life. Not wishing for the restraints to dig into his baby’s delicate skin, leaving red marks or causing his darling discomfort, Levi had intentionally tied the ribbon loosely. If the little one struggled against the bonds, the knot would easily unravel. After all, Levi’s intended purpose of the ribbon was decorative and wasn’t meant to restrain his baby. Blackie: ‘Phew~ ( ﾟ 3ﾟ )~ Good to know that you still haven’t fallen low enough to force yourself on a tied up and defenseless–‘

Saffron still chuckled thinking about it. The long gossamer sleeves widened at the wrist and flowed down nearly to the floor. The bodice was simple with a smattering of dark grey beads woven throughout. The neckline was low and square. Verita had also scowled at that but Saffron knew Elric would appreciate the soft swell of her breasts that peeked over the top of her decolletage.

unless we want them to. The thin black belt, perfect for binding wrists or leaving welts. The velvet-lined cuffs from Vincenzo, etched with runes that glow faintly in the candlelight. Valentino's contribution—a slim, obsidian-handled knife, its edge honed to draw sighs or screams. Each one handpicked for her. Our little mate. Our forbidden nun, cloaked in innocence we're dying to corrupt. Our princess, destined to rule from a throne of our twisted desires.

She opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, then thought better of it and walked away without another word. Jett sat down in a low chair near the fitting area, legs stretched out, watching me like he had all the time in the world. I picked a few dresses and disappeared behind the curtain. The first one was a deep red with a low neckline. I stepped out. He looked at me for a long second, then shook his head once. “No.” I frowned. “How about this?” “Too exposed. I don’t want people looking at your cleavage.” I turned back without arguing. The next one was softer, champagne-colored, with a higher neckline but a slit that ran high up my thigh. I walked out slower this time.