Dry Bones Game Novels & Stories

She jerked the sheet up over her bare breasts as Drago walked into the room. “My little mate,” he purred as he climbed back in the bed with her, “Why are you covering yourself when I have already seen your beauty?” His onyx hair fell in a wild mess about his shoulders, as he pulled her into his strong arms. “Dragons aren’t shy, my love,” he chuckled, “In fact, we love it when our mates walk around naked.” Madchen palmed her forehead, her cheeks flushing feverishly. Her hair was a mess, and she hadn’t brushed her teeth, in fact she was barely awake, naked as the day she was born, and she felt vulnerable and exposed.

London didn’t stand a chance against him. Memories from last night flooded my mind—the scorching kisses she gave me and how tight her pussy was. Bones would never give her that kind of sex, the merciful kind. It would only be chains, whips, and broken bones. I actually felt sorry for her. “What’s taking her so long?” Bones asked with a sigh. “I should be getting back. Besides, I’m eager to play with my new toy.” He grinned in a sickening way, one eye smaller than the other. His teeth were crooked, and he smelled like old garlic.

From the looks of it, the skeletons with blueish flames in its skull just wondering aimlessly without any order, all three of us just stare at the skeleton and all of us thought the same thing. "...weak…so…who want it?…". (Alehandro) We each gave each other a look and finally decide the one who will fight the skeleton with a simple game of rock paper scissor. In all honesty, we just wanted to get some action, the entire journey so far is boring and lackluster, now that an enemy has emerged in front of us, we can't help but want to taste the water. After 3 games, Alehandro won the game and with joy. He rushed out of the bushes where he hides and directly swings his war hammer at the cluster o

“My shovel hit on something I thought was a rock at first, until I pried it up.” Brad and Neisha exchanged a puzzled glance then Brad turned back to the landscaper. “What is it? Buried treasure?” “No, it’s that.” Mathew pointed toward an object next to one of the holes. It looked like a jagged stone, gray with clots of dirt still clinging to it. Brad stepped closer, bending over to get a better look . . . He gasped and backpedaled away when he realized what he was looking at. It wasn’t intact but rather partial; Brad could make out one eye socket and the nose hole, and on one side it curved down into part of the jaw bone.

Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about, Vic. And then she stopped responding. “Well, it looks like Vic will NOT be joining us this evening.” I told Talia, after texting with Vic. “Well, we will have fun anyways!” Talia exclaimed. We went and sat on the couch in the living room and I turned on the tv. “Do you like video games, Talia?” I asked her. She nodded. “Sweet! Do you want to pick out a game for us to play?” I asked her. Without responding, She got up, and put a game into the playstation. It only seemed like minutes had passed, when it had been a couple of hours. We turned the game off, and went to check the brisket. It was almost ready, since I put it on to cook this morning. Jus

"Everybody wants to play the game, except for you. Is just a game and nothing more. She voiced out and i felt a little embarrassed. " come on daisy! Kelly nudged me again." I took a quick breath. Is just a game daisy; you can do this." I assured myself. " Okay am in." I voiced out "Hey! What's your name? A boy asked the girl standing. " Call me Tala." She said and tore a piece of paper from a book on the table. So am going to give a brief summary on how the game is. The rules are, you will pay a certain amount to any question you fail to answer. Or play a dare if you don't have the money." She said and i felt scared about the whole thing. Oh heavens!

Declan stands motionless by the floor-to-ceiling window, the neon glow of the city bleeding across the hardwood like liquid gold, painting his silhouette in flickering light. His shirt hangs loose, the fabric clinging to the damp heat of his skin, sleeves pushed up to reveal the corded muscle of his forearms. The faintest sheen of sweat glistens along his collarbone, catching the light as his chest rises and falls with controlled restraint. His jaw is set, a muscle ticking beneath the stubble, his shoulders taut with something raw and unspoken. I can see the pulse hammering at the base of his throat, the way his fingers flex at his sides, as if fighting the urge to reach for me.