Bloodied Hands Adelaide Forrest Novels & Stories

He washes my back and my outer arms before sliding his soapy hands through to my front. He lifts my arms so they are suspended above my head. He steps closer to me and his hands slip over my breasts slowly with soap. He runs his soapy hands all over my front and bends his head down to my neck. His lips not far from my ear. "Is this ok?" He murmurs to me. I bend my arms slightly and grip onto Hunters head with my hands to steady me and lean back into him. I can feel his hard length pressed against my bum and I let out a breathy moan lifting my chin and exposing the side of my neck.

With his shoulders all scrunched up, Roman muttered to himself, "What are the words again?" In the cool of the night and a brief recollection of meditation, Roman soon found himself in a hall filled with people, with their bodies plastered against each other, either grinding or lap dancing. Roman shrugged, how did they cope with all that sweat. " Oh!" He forgot. The Vampires didn't sweat.

"I'm fine -- just a bit cold." He nodded and started the car, and I felt bereft after his hands left mine. It took a few minutes for me to realize he wasn't driving in the direction of the dorm, but I stead to a bank -- a discreet blood bank. I had heard of a few of them from Helen, marked by their upsidedown red cross sign. He got out of the car and went in, and I tried not to worry about his safety, but I did. He was a vampire slayer, after all, entering into the den of his enemies.

I moved closer to her and checked, then I shook my head. “I guess the moon goddess is punishing you now.” I muttered and immediately rushed to Adelaide. She was on the ground and her breathing was shallow. My chest tightened so fast it felt like something had grabbed my heart and squeezed it hard. “No…” I muttered under my breath as I dropped to my knees. “Adelaide..” Her body looked weak and pale. She was in the pool of her own blood and it had stained her clothes. My hands shook as I reached for her and for a second, I didn’t even know where to touch. I was afraid, afraid I would hurt her more.

Adrian and I sat in the back seat. It was awkwardly silent. I just kept staring out the window. Not sure of what I was to say. “What a prank you pulled up there–” “I saw her lifeless body, the dagger, there was blood everywhere.” Adrian cut in as he was looking at the tomato paste stains in his hand. I gulped. He looked horrible. What happened to him? “This is not real blood.”

His pale, powerful body was a map of the war—marked by fresh, angry bruises, shallow cuts from crystalline weapons, and the dark grime of the elven trenches. Rebecca stepped into the shallow, steaming waters of the spring, pulling him down gently with her until the soothing, mineral-rich heat swirled around their waists. She took up a soft cloth and a bowl of fragrant oils, and with an unhurried, reverence older than time, she began to wash the remnants of the campaign from his skin.

She wiped it away and it felt thick and sticky against the back of her hand. Curious, Amber held her hands out in front of her and saw the blood. It was everywhere. She was covered in it. The light of the candle danced across it reflecting it around her mind. It shouldn’t feel real but it did. She frantically wiped her hands across the front of her shit in a desperate attempt to free herself of the horrible sensation.

A man taller than him stands in front of Ashford and this time everyone was able to see him. He is tall and in black clothes with a white mask on his face and his forehead and eyes covered with his hair not showing his facial features. “Who are you, I will give you more money than them” Ashford said thinking he is Adair’s guard but then man sends in flying, then like any animal cutting every part of his prey, he broke his arms from his body and his legs he roughly tore open his pant and in one swept Ashford’s penis was laying on the ground with blood flowing from it.

She slowly runs her hands through his arms up to his wrists and nervously whispers, "Uuuhm.. who is this?" She gradually removes the hands from her eyes and saw a huge black-furred hand covered with blood.

Standing here, one no longer needed to imagine what hell must be like. Cordia was picking her way through an endless sea of dead men’s bodies, piled to her knees and higher. She looked into the eyes of every single one of them. Sometimes, she had to turn them over to get a good look at their faces. Occasionally, parts of their corpses would stain her hands with blood, body tissue, maggots. She would try to wipe the stains away on her dress, but they would not come off. No matter how hard she tried to make them clean, her hands stayed dirty.