Gothgirlfriends - Nika Venom - Enjoys Passionat... Here

She stood. The leather of her corset creaked. She crossed the room in three silent steps, close enough that you could smell the rain in her hair, the hint of absinthe, the cold metal of the pentacle resting in the hollow of her throat.

Intense. Loyal. Quietly dangerous in the way that makes you want to be bad just to see her smile. GothGirlfriends - Nika Venom - Enjoys Passionat...

She was perched on the edge of the black velvet chaise, one fishnet-clad leg tucked under her, the other dangling a scuffed combat boot just above the floor. A thin trail of clove smoke curled from her lips toward the tin ceiling. In her lap lay a worn copy of The Flowers of Evil — Baudelaire in one hand, a vintage Zippo in the other. She stood

She leaned in, her lips a millimeter from your ear. Intense

Nika Venom didn't chase. She allowed .

"You want to know what I enjoy passionately?" she asked, closing the book with a soft thump.