Deep Skin Sleeping Skin Imprints นิยาย & เรื่องราว

"What is this?" I croaked, my voice ruined from all the screaming earlier. "Apply it to your face, your neck, and your hands every night before you go to bed," Silas said, his voice returning to its normal casual tone as he stood with his arms crossed. "It is an alchemical salve from the capital. Within three weeks, it will dissolve the calluses on your fingers, fade the raw scars on your cheeks, and restore the vital radiance to your skin. It will make you glow."

I reach up hesitantly, my fingers brushing my cheek, and I flinch so hard I nearly fall off the bed. The skin feels wrong. It is tight, distended, and burning. My fingertips come away wet with something thick and viscous. Even in the dark, I can feel the texture. I scramble toward the vanity and light the small lamp with shaking hands. The reflection is a nightmare. The three claw marks Silas left behind have turned into a ruin. The skin around the furrows is a mottled green-black, puffed and angry as if something is trying to push its way out from beneath the surface. The wounds are no longer red; they are a weeping, sickly yellow, with streaks of emerald green collecting at the corners.

‘I’ll be all right,’ he said eventually, after some coaxing, and after letting out an enormous yawn, ‘when I’ve had a little sleep. It was as she was feeling his pulse that Dr Wray noticed the clamminess of his skin. There was a sort of sheen to it now she looked more closely. She shook her head; it was only her imagination. Look, there was nothing there now. ‘It could be one of a couple of things,’ said Wray as she took her seat back round her side of the desk. ‘Ah, so you do agree there’s something?’ cackled Mrs Eley, but the doctor ignored her.

Refusing to relinquish her to the nightmares. Looking at his face, she was amazed to see the peace there. Black lashes framed high cheekbones. That hard mouth was lush when softened in sleep. The faint lines of dimples marked the corners. Black brows slashed across his forehead and the white-blue hair was still curling over his forehead and back to his collar. A direct contrast to his bronze skin. In his sleep his face was touchably soft. Irresistibly drawn, she ran a finger over that full lower lip.

It's in the ground and the water comes from an underground spring so it's a milky blue color and feels smooth as silk. I use a fluffy towel to dry my skin and move to stand in front of the mirror. I pull my hair to the side so I can look at the mark. It's no longer bloody and is already starting to heal. My gaze wanders down and I shake my head a little at the red-purple splotches scattered across my chest and down my stomach. "Okay next time we make out, I'm giving you a dozen of these," I say, pulling on my nightgown and walking into the room.

no, stop! Despite myself, I keep going until finally, I’m able to lift it up to see Alex’s torso undisturbed by tattoos or scars. His skin looks like sculpted marble, with none of the imperfection thereof, but it’s incredibly warm to the touch. I lick my lips when I see the small droplet of sweat making its way down his chest onto his tight abs, which he obtained from training with his Lycan pack! Yummy... Alex snorts in his sleep when I start examining as closely as my vision allows me to do, and then suddenly, he opens his blue eyes. When he sees me staring at him in wonder, he starts grinning and brushes a hand through my hair while placing the other one on my hip.

Gentle…but sexy hot. I take a step in, closing that gap just a little more. I can hear her deep sleeping breaths, her peaceful moans as she slightly stirs at my midnight intrusion. As she moves, a thigh escapes from underneath the bedding, her bruised and grazed skin making bile rise to the back of my throat. She hadn’t healed at all. I can smell a new aroma, something different to her usual burnt oranges and spice scent...her signature scent of autumn. Herbs…her skin glistens slightly under the layer of her own ointment that has been placed across her skin. Did she do it herself, or did another’s hand touch her there.

Pointing at his wife on the stretcher, he shouted, "My wife used the New Chesire Group's 'Crystal Elegance Skin' skincare series. She was fine, but look what happened to her. She's now covered in rashes or something, and some of them are even secreting pus! "My poor wife suffers from itches that never go away. It itches when she scratches. She can't sleep well at night, crying in pain! "Help me out here, guys. Shouldn't New Chesire Group give us an explanation? Trust me; don't use their Crystal Elegance Skin!" Customers were skeptical, looking down at the middle-aged woman on the stretcher, puzzled. "Did you really ruin your face using New Chesire Group's Crystal Elegance Skin? None of us ar

I whispered, frowning as he pointed to my shoulder. I gasped softly, seeing the spot on my skin. The mark was about the size of a crescent-shaped thumbprint on my left shoulder. Its deep, rich brown color reminds me of a chestnut shell. The mark was slightly raised with a subtle texture that seemed to shift in the light, like the gentle curve of a shell. I could swear I was only seeing this for the first time. I had stripped so many times, gazing into the mirror, but I had never seen such a thing in my life until now.

Mira woke with her body aching and the sheets still damp beneath her thighs. She didn’t know what time it was. Light seeped through the heavy curtains, dull and distant, like the world outside no longer mattered. She shifted slightly, wincing at the soreness between her legs. Her skin was marked—red handprints on her hips, small bites along her neck and shoulder, bruises that weren’t painful but possessive. She could still feel his tongue inside her, his voice in her ear, his cock buried deep and unrelenting. The memory alone made her moan softly, pressing her face deeper into the pillow that smelled like him.