Novel & Cerita Bump On Skin Filled With Blood

His eyes were squeezed shut, head thrown back against the headboard, mouth parted as he let out these soft, ragged breaths. His dick looked so real up close like that, hard and flushed, the skin stretched tight over the thickness. It wasn't some p**n star monster, but it was solid, maybe seven inches, with those bulging veins running along the sides like ropes under the surface. The head was swollen, a deep pink, and there was a shiny bead of pre-cum right at the slit, catching the dim light from his bedside lamp.

My vision blurs for a second, and I just stay there, stunned. I press my hand to my nose. Blood. It’s already running, warm and thick, slipping over my fingers. It hurts like hell when I touch it. I grit my teeth and partially shift, letting the change move through me just enough to fix the damage. The bones settle. The skin pulls back together. The pain eases slowly, fading into a dull ache that lingers behind. I wipe the blood on the hem of my shirt, smearing it without thinking, just wanting it gone.

Each extraction was brutal, a little surgery on living flesh, Blood—thicker and darker—welled up in the neat holes punctured into his collarbone and ribs. It pooled in the hollows, dark and thick, staining the whiteness of his skin and the cold surface beneath him. Don’s agonized sounds, a guttural growl mixed with muffled shouts, filled the room, echoing off the sterile walls like a grim symphony. “Grr, Grr, Grr,” he rasped, voice strained and trembling, as if fighting against an unseen force clawing him from within.

Panic flashed in his eyes, pure, unfiltered panic. “What the hell… are you okay?” I knelt beside him, reaching out to help, but the moment my fingers brushed his skin, he jerked violently and vomited more blood. I pulled back, but my eyes stayed locked on his. Something was wrong. I looked down at my hand, still resting on his arm, and noticed the skin beneath my fingers. His veins were turning black, dark lines spreading out like cracks in glass. They kept moving, snaking up through his chest, his neck, his face, until they reached his eyes.

He dug his fingers deep into any crevice he could find, steadying himself as he crawled slowly up. He lifted one leg with much difficulty and slowly took another pace. More blood escaped from virtually every pore on his skin as if the gargantuan pressure was trying to squash every drop of blood out of him. Puff! Another mouthful of blood poured out of his mouth, trickling from the corners of his lips. Crunch!

Even when the glass touched his skin, he didn't feel anything. The smell of blood had already spread in the private room. He even felt the glass on his arteries through his skin. He just needed to apply some pressure and … Bang!

A bone poked out at the arm’s joint, with blood streaming down. “What?”

I lift a hand, staring at the pale limb suspended in the soft light. I just have to listen... My focus catches on the throb of my pulse. In the silence of the room, it grows louder and I feel my senses snap wide in an instant. The rush of blood becomes apparent. A flush climbs up my neck and I inhale deep. Bumps appear on my skin, growing larger--my blood threatening to burst out of the barrier of my skin. Freaked out, I relinquish hold of my powers instantly. My skin smoothes over.

His breathing grew rapid and uneven, and he muttered to himself, "I'm burning… Hot… So hot…" He started pulling at his clothes violently. The tight gym shorts stretched over his muscles tore with a loud rip. He seemed unaware, just scratching at his chest until thin lines of blood appeared. His skin turned an alarming shade of red, like a boiled shrimp, veins throbbing visibly beneath the surface. His eyes, which had once been fairly clear, were now bloodshot in shocking deep red. His pupils were unfocused, staring into nothing. His gaze was reminiscent of a beast with nothing but hunger.

Maddox braces the stool. I press harder as tears stream down my face. I don’t stop. His screams echo through the broken house. At first, nothing changes. His skin grows paler as his head falls back. “No… no…” I cry. “Concentrate!” Lux shouts. I close my eyes and pour everything into it. The power tearing through me. I keep pressing and then slowly the bleeding begins to slow. The torn flesh beneath my palm starts knitting together. Color creeps back into his skin, not human warmth, but the pale vitality a vampire should have. His eyes flicker dark red, then deepen into a steady crimson.