Blue Veins Under My Tongue Novels & Stories

My breathing grows heavier as the images reappear. Aerin’s hands on her waist. His mouth near her ear. My vision flashes gold. A low growl tears from my throat before I can stop it. Then my back burns. “Ahh!” I staggered to my feet and ripped my shirt off turning to the large mirror. Black veins have spread from where the Hollowed Vale vine had pierced me when Elara was pulling me out. I touched it and it pulsed. The edges look darker and thicker now. “What is this?” I whispered as I looked at the thing beneath my skin pushing outward.

She finished. "What do you mean by a comprehensive check?" I queried. " I need to check every inch of her skin, for signs of a puncture. If it is what I think it is, then the puncture would have black veins running from it, by now. The black veins would be as tiny as threads for a needle and not as visible as normal black veins should be. Because this is the early stages." She explained. " What do you think this is?" " I think it's a blood enchantment."

Nicole hesitated, then nodded and slipped out. I stood on shaky legs and walked to the mirror. What I saw made my hands tremble more. My wrist curled into a fist. A black vein. It was thin as a spider's thread and crept up from my collarbone toward my neck. What is that? I touched it, expecting heat, but it was cold. I didn't know what it was. I couldn't understand it. But fear crawled up my spine as I stared. I need to hide this. This is too strange.

Almost gently. * * * Caelan was at his desk. Not working — papers pushed aside. Sitting with his face in his hands, shirt open at the collar, the way a shirt opened when a man had stopped thinking about what he looked like. So I saw them. The veins. Black, fine as thread, spreading in a branching pattern from the centre of his chest — not like bruising, like something drawn with intention. They crossed his sternum, reached toward his ribs, and one branch climbed the left side of his throat and stopped, for now, at his collarbone.

He looks up as I enter, his expression guarded but there’s something else beneath it now. Something unsettled. “You said this was urgent,” he says. “It is.” I don’t move further into the room immediately. I just… look at him. And the moment I do my breath catches. There, clear as daylight. Black veins. They spider out from his chest, branching across his skin beneath his shirt like cracks spreading through glass. They pulse faintly, alive with something dark, something wrong, radiating outward from his heart. For a second, I can’t move because this...

"You talk like you know what that feels like." Stan slowly walked over and sat down on the far end of the couch. The cushion dipped heavily under his weight. Up close, under the sharp light of her desk lamp, Vivian could see the dark circles etched beneath his eyes, the faint white scars running along his collarbone, and something else—something that made her pulse stutter. The veins along his neck were pulsing with a strange, faint violet light. It flared under his skin, rhythmic and unnatural, like a dying star trapped inside his veins.

Not hostile, but something hung in the air, it made my stomach tighten. *** The patient grew worse. His breathing became more ragged. His skin took on a grayish tint, sweat soaked through his tunic. I checked his arm again. The discoloration had spread, black veins now crawled up his forearm, pulsing faintly beneath the skin. I had never seen anything like it. "Everyone stop." The room went quiet. Elara came closer, she bent down beside me, her eyes narrowing. "What is that?" "I don't know." Maelis stepped forward. She looked at the veins, the pulsing darkness, the way the skin around them had begun to wither.

Long, about eight and a half inches, with that upward curve and a throbbing vein underneath. "Fuck, it's beautiful," I breathed, leaning in to lick the bead away, savoring the salty tang as his thighs tensed, a sharp hiss escaping him. "Mmm, so thick. Gonna hit my throat just right." I took him deep, lips stretching, hollowing my cheeks as I sucked, spit dripping messy down my chin.

“This is my room.” What? His room? I looked around the room in surprise, and that was when I noticed the dark velvet blinds and general masculine theme of the room. “I came over here to check on you, and I kinda dozed off,” he added, then he lifted his knuckles to brush my hair away from my face. “How do you feel?” He added moments later, a melancholic light filtering into his eyes as he gazed down at me. I’d just opened my mouth to respond, when I noticed the caked redness around his knuckles.

Then I held him, running my tongue up the side of his shaft to taste the sweat on that impossibly soft skin as my other hand cupped his balls. I ran my tongue from the underside base of his shaft to the head, taking my time to feel every bump from his veins. The soft, dual pressure from the underside of his glans encouraged me to push my tongue against the sensitive spot of his frenulum, then around, feeling every part of the ridge of his glans, before finally finding the very tip. I did this several times. Each time his hands clenched into the bedspread, and each time I grew wetter. Blue let out a soft gasp. His groan turned me on and made me eager to hear him let more out. I enjoyed knowin