Velvet X Veneer Novels & Stories

“‘The petitioner receives… the secondary vehicle… a 2021 Mercedes… and… the contents of the… smaller wine cellar...’” Riven chuckled darkly, gripping her hips and driving deeper. “Pathetic. Keep going.” “‘…and the… jewelry gifted during the… marriage, excluding… pieces valued over… fifty thousand...ahh, fuck yes!’” He fucked her harder against the glass, one hand reaching around to pinch and tug at her nipples. The city lights blurred in her vision as pleasure built inside her. Every thrust pushed her breasts more firmly against the window, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat of his body.

Rylee said sweetly, tilting her head to one side, "is both an aphrodisiac and a paralytic…enough to flood your body with desire, but just enough weakness that you can't fight back." His breathing quickened. His body tingled. He tried to rise, but his legs wouldn’t cooperate. "You're insane," he said through gritted teeth. She clapped her hands twice. The door opened. Five women walked in. Each one tall, poised, and wrapped in velvet and sin. Women from Velvet Flame. Zena was among them…tattooed, leather corset, legs for days. She chewed gum and gave Cameron a sultry once-over. "Rylee, you bad girl…" she purred with a dark chuckle.

It was stunning—if only there was snow on the ground. But I wouldn’t let that hold me back. “Now for the veil,” Layla said, carefully lifting the intricate veil out of the elaborate box it was stored in. I took another deep breath and turned back to face the mirror. Layla slowly lowered the veil over my head, carefully inserting the comb into my updo. The veil cascaded down my back, so delicate it almost looked like a gentle dusting of snow as it trailed down to the floor. “There,” Layla said softly, taking a step back to admire their work.

Vane’s voice drifted from the other side of the curtain, calm and detached, as if he were ordering a glass of water. Elara stood frozen in the center of the room. Her heart was a frantic bird trapped in her ribs. "I... I won't," she whispered, her voice trembling. "The contract said I was a consort, not a... a whore." The sound of his footsteps was rhythmic and slow. The curtain was swept aside, and Vane stepped in. He had removed his charcoal blazer, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar to reveal the tops of the black, living ink tattoos that coiled around his throat. He looked more human in his shirtsleeves, but infinitely more dangerous. The predatory grace of his movements was undeni

Maybe it was just an after-effect of a growth spurt? After a shower, feeding Viper and a change of clothes into a white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, Natasha left the house with a small device in her hand no larger than her own phone and the beeper she had damaged. It was the Life Cell. In order to get a new one, she had to return the former. The store was only one city block away as Natasha walked into the large building filled with electronic equipment. She stopped at the counter which was in the very center of the building.

he rumbled warningly. Velvet looked up at him coquettishly from beneath her lashes as she popped the button on his jeans. "I need you, daddy, stop fighting it" she purred, dragging down his zipper. Zavian's impressive cock sprang free, and Velvet wrapped her small hand around it. She gave him a few experimental strokes, admiring how thick and long he was. A bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip and she used her thumb to spread it around the head.

“We were tested. Routinely. Not just academics. Empathy drills. Stress exposure. Micro-expression calibration. I thought it was education. It wasn’t.” A beat passed. “Velvet wasn’t created by people who wanted pleasure,” he said. “It was built by people who wanted leverage. And before they used women to seduce power, they trained boys to mirror it.” Something inside her cracked. “You were an Eve_One subject.” “No. I was on the other side of the glass.”

She had a small purse slung over her shoulder, very similar to mine. - You look perfect! Venira blushed at the compliment and awkwardly ran her hand over the neckline of her chest. I can imagine how uncomfortable she felt in this image. From the expression on her face, I immediately knew that some kind of taunt was about to follow. — Well, apart from embroidery, I hate it.

she hissed, every syllable soaked in venom. A growl rumbled in my throat, rising from deep in my chest. She could deny the title all she wanted—but she couldn’t deny the bond. With an exasperated roll of her eyes, Velara finally began to lift her shirt. The fabric slid upward slowly, revealing skin that stole the breath from my lungs. I hadn’t been prepared for the sight that greeted me. Her ribs were covered in a storm of bruises—deep violet and sickly blue patches sprawled across her torso like shadows from a violent past. The mottled skin looked fragile, as if the faintest touch might cause it to tear. Every discolored blotch whispered of pain. It was the kind of damage that couldn’t be e

Another was threaded with spells that changed the color depending on the wearer’s mood. “Which one bites?” I asked, eyeing a crimson thing that seemed to be breathing. “Velvet,” Asterin said flatly. “She’s temperamental.” “We’re thinking something bold,” Astrea cut in, already flipping through the gowns like a composer rifling sheet music. “Not too soft. Something that says ‘Yes, I survived death and destruction and betrayal and still have the nerve to walk into your sacred hall like I own it.’” “No pressure,” I said dryly.