Vox X Velvet 소설 & 이야기

my words were like a dagger coated in bitterness, “Perfectly made from hell!“ my voice heavy with the agony of betrayal. Leaving the room, I walked away from the echoes of deception, my final words lingering in the air like an unspoken truth. The corridor outside embraced me in its quiet solitude, providing a refuge from the emotional storm that raged within. *** Alone in the confined space of my car, the weight of betrayal settled upon my shoulders. Tears, held back for what felt like an eternity, finally broke free, demanding acknowledgment. My hands trembled on the steering wheel, knuckles strained against the grip, unable to contain the flood of emotions overwhelming me.

As the clock struck six thirty, Alessia finally submitted the third draft to Wilda. On the way home, she stopped by a supermarket to pick up groceries. As she passed an electronics store, she paused, then decided, why not. Fifteen minutes later, she came out with a brand-new box of virtual reality headset. This would keep Milo occupied while he waited for his precious tablet to return. *** Logan and Heath sat in a private room at The Velvet Lounge, an exclusive, high-end club known for its opulence and luxurious ambience. The dimly lit room was adorned with plush velvet furniture, and the walls were decorated with ornate mirrors and glistening crystal chandeliers.

Startled, Velia's eyes flew open, her body trembling. "I-I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... please don't be mad," she begged, her voice shaky. Venom’s expression remained unreadable, but a trace of amusement laced his voice. "What are you doing in my bed?" Velia’s face flushed with embarrassment as she stammered, "I-I wasn’t tired... but you didn’t come... it wasn’t intentional..." His gaze moved up and down her body before he spoke again, his voice cold and controlled. "Don't let it happen again. Leave."

Milan, Italy. October. Hotel Brera. Tuesday. 6:34 PM. Contrary to her wishes, Xavier had sent a car. She'd known he would. She'd known it the moment she'd texted on my way back and his response had come in four seconds rather than the usual two, which meant he'd already had his phone in his hand, already watching for it, already decided before she'd even pressed send that she wasn't getting a cab back alone. She'd sat on the steps of number seven on the wet Porta Romana cobblestones and looked at the black sedan turning onto the street and felt the specific irritation of someone whose predictions had been correct. She got in without a word. Marcus said good evening, Miss Voss with his usual

I head to the shower. Across the street a black Aston Martin sits in the shadows. Vex watching from the back seat. I exit the bathroom in a towel. Searching my dresser for an over sized shirt. I slip it over myself letting the towel drop to the floor. I check all my windows to make sure they’re locked, then the doors. I don’t notice the car in the shadows. I turn the light off… crawling into bed and drifting to sleep. VEX POV The Aston Martin idles across the street, Vex's silhouette barely visible through tinted windows. His phone buzzes.

The night stretched long and silent over Ashwood, broken only by the purr of engines. Violet sat beside Kael inside the black Rolls-Royce Cullinan, her reflection caught in the tinted glass — pale face, faint glow of her violet eyes flickering each time lightning danced across the distant peaks. Two matte-black G-Wagons followed — one ahead, one behind — carrying Draven wolves, their presence grim and wordless, as if carved from the night itself.

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.

"Victor! Stop! Don't let the white fog take your name! Say it! Say your name!" Elodie’s voice didn't come from a throat. It was a jagged, silver ripple in the back of Victor’s skull. He didn't have vocal cords that worked for human speech anymore. His muzzle was too long, his teeth too crowded and sharp. He stood on the roof of a crushed taxi in the middle of Times Square, his massive white paws denting the yellow hood.

JAXON’S ROOM Jaxon sat at his vanity, combing his hair into a sleek low bum since his hair is long, He smirked at his reflection, remembering the messages he’d sent Leonard last night. “God, I’m such a troublemaker,” he muttered, applying gloss to his lips. A knock. “Come in.” Vincent stepped inside, eyes lingering for a second before he looked away. “You’ve got a Louis Vuitton shoot at noon,” he announced. “Really?” Jaxon asked, surprised. Vincent nodded and left quickly. Jaxon’s phone rang. He smirked at the caller ID. He answered. “Hello, pretty,” Bruce said, voice bright.

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.