Bloody Fingers Book Novels & Stories

Zoe gasped, gripping his shoulders as he curled them perfectly against her G-spot. “So tight and wet,” he groaned, pumping his fingers fast. “Your cunt is sucking my fingers like it’s starving. You want to get caught, don’t you? You want someone to walk by and see you getting finger-fucked by a stranger between the books.” The filthy words made her moan louder. She bit her lip to stay quiet, but the wet squelching sounds of his fingers plunging in and out of her sloppy pussy were unmistakable in the silent library.

she snapped, “I need to get back the shop before the boss has my head. Is this about the Bloody Barbies again?” Bloody Barbie was the nickname Maria gave to the murders ever since she’d gotten involved as a suspect. It was an apt name. Each crime scene that had been investigated was painted red with each victim’s blood, and in each one there would be a bloody doll left behind (though, not exactly a Barbie), no less than three feet away from the body.

I felt so grateful. I used my fingers to trace the lines of the book. To feel the texture of the front and back cover, I even decided to have a sneak peek with my fingers inside of the book. "Thank you. May I open my eyes now and have a look at it?" "Go ahead" The book slowly came into my vision that's my eyes uncovered itself. The book in my hand was twice my size and three times my weight. It had brown paper and its pages were written in blood. My body cringed when I opened the first page.

The book said. I placed my trembling hand on the glowing pages of the Book of Shadows and a searing pain shot through my fingers like a bolt of lightning. It was as if my hand had been engulfed in flames, the intensity of the sensation causing me to cry out in agony. "Ahhhh!" I yelped, my voice echoing through the cottage as I tried to jerk my hand away from the book's surface. But to my horror, the pain only intensified, as though invisible chains were holding me in place, trapping me in a vortex of excruciating torment.

He is one more shape in the mud, one more loss history will later summarize in numbers. I want to scream at them. At the soldiers. At the sky. At time itself. Instead, I stare at my hands. My fingers are coated in red that has begun to darken. It clings to my skin like proof. I rub my thumb over the blood and watch it smear. It looks like a fingerprint. It looks like a signature. I think of Mercy’s word. Collects. This is the collection. Not just his life. Not just my voice. Not just the village that pretended.

He punctuated his words by thrusting two of his fingers deep inside me in one go. I felt my slippery walls gripping his fingers, trying to suck them in as I pushed back, taking more. He placed his palm on the small of my back to hold me in place as he started to move his fingers, fûcking me with them. “You really weren’t lying, huh? When you said you wanted to be fûcked, look at you taking my fingers so far inside your pûssy.” I could feel myself dripping around his fingers and not just that but I could also hear the embarrassing sound his fingers made as he thrust them back and forth. “Can you take three? Let’s see.” “Oh... My. God.” I groaned as he circled his third fingers around my entra

The dark veins on her neck moved slightly with her pulse. -- Lucian had left three boxes of books stacked against the far wall of the main room and I opened the first one and started reading and did not stop for hours. Most of it was terrifying in the specific way that information is terrifying when it confirms the worst thing you were already afraid of. Soul possession through blood magic. The host soul weakens incrementally with each surfacing of the invading consciousness. Over time the host's grip on their own body becomes unreliable, then intermittent, then absent. The invader does not kill the host. They simply crowd them out, slowly, until there is nothing of the original person left

I froze. There was something wrong. Something violated. Tender. Marked. My fingers trembled as I slid them beneath the sheets, down between my legs. My breath caught. The sensation was raw, the skin there swollen and sticky with dried fluids. Some patches had a crusted texture that was unmistakably blood. I pulled my hand back. Crimson specks clung to my fingers like some cursed reminder. I didn’t cry. Nor did I Didn’t scream. Instead, I smirked.

Just then, the private phone of the president rang. Picking it up, he growled "Who is this?". "Hello Freddie long time no see". ~~ Hi, thank you for checking out this book 😀. Your beautiful comments and constructive criticism are welcomed. Also, don't forget to drop a review. This book is purely a work of fiction. ~~ Dedicated to all lovers of books. Hope you enjoy my book, thank you❤.

And what is happening in there town? They don't understand at all, and why this horrible act is happening in their town? All of them stood there stretching there head in confusion; trying to figure out why people are dying, and who is responsible for this terrible action, from that day forward they called it BLOODY DAY! To me, this is a big mystery that can't never be solved. ( This Story continued) ATTENTION READERS: This book have different series book 2-9