Red Lips Sipping On A White Claw Novels & Stories

I trust him completely but I was still feeling a little nervous . "Oh you'll see " He grins . I swallow . He shows me his hand and I look at it . It's empty, what is he trying to prove ? Slowly his claws come out . He brings his claw to his neck and slides it in with a grunt , pulling it down just an inch and letting the gap ooze out blood .

Maybe the alcohol would bring me back to myself. The first swallow burned down my throat, the chill of the drink calming my storm. I arched a brow. “Do all older men order drinks for women they’ve never introduced themselves to?” He chuckled, like a charming GQ cover model, and extended his hand. “Apologies. I’m Theo.” Heat rushed to my face. I placed my hand in his large, warm palm. “Claire White,” I breathed, his touch nearly melting my pain away. “Claire White… what broke the fire in those brave eyes?” Theo leaned closer, his breath ghosting over my earlobe. A shiver raced all the way to my core.

She’d chew him up and spit out his shiny little cufflinks. I grip the glass tighter. The rim digs into my palm. My knuckles go white. My whiskey trembles. To Be Continued...

He grinned and pinched my nose after. "Uh, L-Lucien, you're crushing the shrimp." Our attention instantly shifted to Lucien when Clarrise's mentioned his name. My mouth parted in shock when my eyes darted to his hands. The shrimp are now crushed and I even heard a faint sound of its shell, crushing. I brought back my eyes to his and I almost choked with my own saliva when I caught him gaping at me like I did something horrible. "Lucien, if you want, I can share with you my shrimp I---"

"It isn't that cold anyway." I also get her a glass and she pours the milk there. I watch as she takes a sip from the milk and the way she licks her lips. Oh god! Why is that so hot? "I hadn't realized how thirsty I was until now," Clara says after downing half way through her glass of milk. I just give her a a peck on her lips, tasting the milk there. The milk isn't that gross but I won't give it a thought about being included on my diet.

Claw while drinking beer. Miss. Claw was one of those old women who still lived like youngsters. Not to mention that she was a prostitute. “So, what brings you here?” asked Miss. Claw. “My mother sent me to Mrs. Shem” I replied while handing her the few bank notes. “She said I should give you this.” “Tell her thank you very much” Mrs. Shem said while taking the few bank notes from my hands. The child sleeping on the opposite couch suddenly started crying. “Hey damn it! Shut up!” yelled Miss. Claw while taking a sip on her beer. “Siren can you please bring that bitch here.”

His face turned red, and his eyes held a piercing gaze. Dicken raised and froze his webbed claw in an attacking position, slowly clenching them into a fist. I heard the snapping sound of his bones as he clenched his webbed claws. Blue blood dripped between his pale webbed claws into the water. Though the dripping sounded light, it agonized me.

This was her. Ethan licked his lips. He definitely liked this personality of hers better. -Well, sometimes you look like it- he provoked her. Clara did not answer him, on the contrary, she went back to licking the blood following one of the furrows from his wrist to one of the wounds. Delighting in the taste and power of the wolf's blood. With a nimble movement she climbed on top of him straddling him, leaving each of her legs beside his hip, still holding his bleeding hand and still licking it.

Then he whispers into my ears, “Wait for me on the other side, my love. I’ll come to find you.” He assures me with a smile, then he brings his hand forward and drags a finger on my cheeks, using his claw to draw a line on my cheeks, making me scream out in pain as his razor-sharp claw rips my skin open and I bleed profusely. I scream and yell for mercy, and I thrash around furtively in an attempt to free myself from his grip…

Lucian’s POV “You sure you don’t want to pack a toothbrush or something?” I ask, arching a brow at Claw. He shrugs, flipping his dagger between his fingers like it’s a damn toy. "Brush? These babies haven't been disvirgined by that blasted substance since I could fuck." Rock's face turned to disgust and Claw noticed. “C'mon, Pebbles, I was obviously lying. Rogues don’t brush. We brush with the hair of our adversaries and rinse with their blood.” He winked at him.