Heat Ink Sans Sin Novels & Stories

Seeing a cheerful Vlad this way made me mad at Draven but I know that won't last as I was already worried of him. “Please Vlad…stay calm. Do what you want but don't be like this.. I don't like it..” I begged him, staring at his back since he won't face me. The black ink of tattoo on his back was strange, it glistened red and I didn't like it. It was as if the moon above was burning him through the tattoo and I really wished to erased it off. I stood up but his words of struggles made me stopped instantly. “Just leave please, I might hurt you. Please go!” His voice tighted so hard and and a roar escaped from his lips, followed by a bright lightening from the sky that shook my entire bones.

“Wanna taste you first.” He moved down, spreading my legs wider. Then his mouth was on my pμ$sy, slow at first, then faster, his tongue was working me down there until I was shaking. “Fuck, you taste like sin,” he groaned, sucking my cl!t. “Kyle, I can’t–” I moaned, gripping the sheets. “It’s too much…” He just laughed, and the vibration made me jolt. “You’re gonna take it all, angel.”

He stared at me deeply, but not with disgust, rather concern. He pulled me in for a hug without saying anything. After a while, he pulled out. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked, holding my hands. “I guess.” I managed. I never thought I would tell anyone about this, but with Arson? I felt safe. “He said it’s the only way for me to stay away from sin. He said We must destroy sin and every sinful engagement. I get whipped each time I disobey him. He is the major reason why I am alive.” I waited for him to say something, but he just kept on looking at me, waiting for me to finish.

Verity pulled up to the grand Sinclair family home at Marpleton Drive in Bel Air just after sunset. The sprawling Mediterranean-style mansion glowed warmly under landscaped lights, but tonight it felt more like a battlefield than a sanctuary. She sat in the car for a long moment, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady her breathing. She had barely stepped out when Kingsley appeared from nowhere, near the entrance. He looked disheveled, eyes red-rimmed, hair messy like he had been running his hands through it for hours.

It’s a beautiful sight, but one that elicits shivers across my skin, knowing that the vibrant colours and distracting views are to conceal the darkness of Ira. "If this is a trap, I will kill you. Slowly,” I growl at Sinful, who pauses before we can make it to the front gate, painted a bright yellow. He turns, lavender eyes assessing me, a cool expression gliding across his face. "Don't let the power get to your head, pretty mortal."

She replied, "The red ink pen in the office." I started laughing harder. "You mean the indelible red ink pen in the office that will not come off." She looked horrified and then started laughing hysterically. "Just please fuck me good for my attempt to be creative." I did. Brittney's personality always kept me off balance. Most people have a business face and a personal face. Brittney's was more than that. One day I bought three yellow roses from a peddler at a stoplight. When Brittney came home the roses were in a small crystal vase on the kitchen table.

She sucked greedily, swirling her tongue around the tip. Sara moved lower. She took his heavy balls in her hands then she rubbed her lips on them. “Mmm, fuck,” Vincent groaned. “That’s it, girls. Worship your stepdaddy’s cock.” Clara pushed her head forward. She took more of his massive length in her mouth. She gagged as he hit the back of her throat. Her eyes watered, but she kept going. Drool spilled from the corners of her mouth and dripped down her chin.

“Do your worst.” “You hush,” I scolded him, dipping my finger in black paint before catching his bottom lip, dragging it through his stubble and down his chin. “I’m working.” Evan chuckled, but didn’t say anything more as I dipped my brush in the shade of vermilion I’d picked for the base. Across his chest, I painted a red sky, blending darker and lighter reds to create angry, ominous storm clouds above an inky black sea that spanned his abdomen.

The old handwriting continued across the page. Then I noticed the newer writing.Black ink.Sharper.Cleaner.Written between the original lines.My chest tightened.Those notes weren't ancient.They had been added much later."When were these written?""We don't know.""You said the ledger was ancient.""It is.""Then someone came back and wrote in it.""Exactly."I looked closer.

"I didn't want to. I would regret it, and that's the last thing I want. " Sinclair says nothing after those words. Just watch me with a strange expression on his face, and I take the time to let my eyes drink him in. He's in grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips with his chest naked. My eyes move across the inked skin and the impulse to meander my hand across it burns in me. "You're fucking with me, Little Greene. " Sinclair hisses, and I lift my head at his words; my thighs clenching at the fierce look on his face. God, the things that look do to me.