Dark Dark Fruit Novels & Stories

Morana's blushing face and panting breath were really beautiful in Daniel's eyes, the man looked at Morana as if he wanted to eat her right then and there. The monster inside him writhed as Daniel tried to suppress his innermost desires. After all of Morana's body stopped shaking and she slowly opened her eyes with a look in her eyes that was hard to digest, Daniel looked back at her as if he was dreaming and Morana was the object of his darkest dream.

The lake came into view as we stepped through the last of the tree line. A vast, mirror-still body of dark water stretched ahead of us, framed by jagged cliffs on the far side and a ring of dense, thorny undergrowth. The Southern Fruit tree we’d been searching for stood proud and alone by the edge, its silvery bark gleaming faintly in the morning light. Bright crimson fruits hung from its branches like dripping rubies. Norma and Anita gasped simultaneously.

It takes a minute but both of them travel over to the dark elf that is on the ground. Faint panting originates from the confines of the helm as if someone or something is strangling him. The pair of orcs look at him as if they are studying his armor and the goggles on his face up until the other two elves enter the clearing. Catarina is the first to notice the Butcher is on the ground wallowing in pain. Her eyes dart to the larger orc and with a voice that matched an enraged commander, she speaks. “What happen here?” The druid is the first to go down on her knees and lift off the helm that protected his face. Once she does, she is shocked at what she sees. The face of Butcher looks like it h

' He asked with a raised eyebrow. 'How's what going?'. 'The whole walking into a dark dangerous forest, how are you holding up?'. 'It's that bad you know. And it's not dark at all. I just don't like the dense atmosphere and the too tall and wide trees which takes up ninety percent of the place'. 'I see'. He said stroking his rough stubble. 'And you, how are you holding up?'. 'Holding up?'. He chuckled. 'I'm not holding up at all babe, it feels...normal'. He shrugged.

The moon made an excellent job to illuminate his honeyed eyes, two perfect orbs. It was dark, pitch-black around the forest and the only source of noise were the cockroaches and the many insects that I rather not know about their existence mixed with a loud chewing noise. “Hm, actually, I did you a favor.” Dominic’s tone sent a chill down my spine as my head whipped to his direction. He was sitting down, his back against a tree as he stretched his legs and stuffed his face with Doritos. When he caught my gaze, he grinned like a schoolboy.

Sevenom out of the blue. Before anyone could reply, the wine in Sevenom’s wine glass flew toward Darkwind’s glass. However, the white wine had now turned green! Smiling wickedly, Sevenom then added, “Don’t worry about the color. I’ve changed the white wine into a medicinal wine that’ll help enhance your inner strength! With that said, please enjoy, Saint Darkwind…!”

Especially since his whole fantasy was for there to be a shroud of mystery with us meeting. She continued, "I can give him your number and he can call and go over any other specifics with you. I realize it'll be dark but I don't know if there's anything special he wants you to wear or not wear, any special way he wants you to smell, that kind of thing. I think the whole premise of being in the dark is to heighten all of your other senses. He really wants the physical connection with you, without any pretense about who he is or who his family is or all that."

Has the Alpha read all of them? I stepped further into the space, in the direction of a dark cherry desk with a black leather chair and a pair of black club chairs. I closed my eyes as my senses were overloaded by the delicious scent of rose petals and blood oranges but with a slight ashy undertone. It was like smelling a glass of Fattorie Romeo del Castello Vigo Etna Rosso, which by far is my favorite wine I’ve tasted.

It was almost as if it was a time line as we walked down the hall. I saw a sword. Many different people held the sword as we walked. Sometimes it was a person outlined in black light, which was strange to see black light. It was not like the UV purple light that they called black light in the clubs. This was inky dark light. Almost like paint, but reflected as light. My physics brain couldn't wrap itself around the concept, and yet here it was right in front of me.

A mix of fear, anger, and relief. The truth hurt. But the lies had hurt worse. Deep down, I just wanted everything to go back to normal. AT FRANCESCA’S PENTHOUSE The penthouse lights were low, warm, and expensive. Francesca sat on the edge of the long white couch, legs crossed, lips painted deep red. She held a glass of wine like it was a weapon. She watched Mr. Blackwood with a smirk. Mr. Black stood near the window, back to her, hands in his pockets. His shoulders were tense.