Scratch Marks Novels & Stories

And I’m just so grateful we found each other. The scar of the fresh mark I left on him stands out in contrast to his tan skin, and I reach out to trace my fingertips over it, smiling to myself. Mine. Brock’s mine and I’m his. The serum makes it so we’ll forever bear the scars of our marks to show the world that we belong to one another.

He murmured, grabbing my waist to turn me around. “Don't be stupid, Mark.” I said slapping his hands and taking my makeup case out of the bag “Let's hide the hickey, the other thing can wait.” I lowered the turtleneck as much as I could since he, apparently, wouldn´t help me because he didn’t move his hands from my body, and I took out my base to start applying a little. “Are you putting makeup on me?” Asked incredulous. “Of course not, I'm just covering the crime scene, that's all.”

There is a tattoo near the spot, like a tattoo as a sign that I also have near my neck. "Is this a scratch scar? Does it hurt? "I asked. Dori shook her head "this is not a deep wound. After all, all of that was defeated with the pleasure that Abigail gave me," said Dori, smiling brightly. "It's different from Dori, my mark is on my right back, Albern gave a bite mark there. look," said Jasmine and asked me to look at her back. I tried to shift a little of the clothes that covered Jasmine's end. There were indeed scars from the fangs and covered in tattoos.

Maybe that’s why the servants weren’t wandering around? “Are we sure this is it? I mean, can you read any of this to confirm this is the correct spot?” Michael asked his mate, seeing what looked like random scratches in the rocks before him. To him, it could have been animal scratches or natural wear in the rocks. But he didn’t like how Ebony pawed at the marks and stared at them as if she were listening to something. Or someone, and that disturbed him greatly. At least his mate didn’t paw at them.

Turning the inside of her arm towards me and moving the scarf aside. She kept a straight look on her face as she regarded me, with a slightest hint of confusion. It had been only a glimpse but I caught it. Staring down at her arm, I looked at the four long scratch marks lining it. The festered, probably infected and still unhealing scratch marks. I could see how Damon regarded her arm from the corner of my eye, but I was too busy staring at Evelyn. I looked up at her, and her eyes registered some sort of resignation.

I bite down until I taste blood, and by the time I’ve escaped the flashback, I’m wearing nothing but my underwear. “I don’t see anything.” Madison gripes, clearly disappointed. Nerissa shakes her head gleefully. “She covers it with makeup– but feel.” Three sets of fingers run over my brand. Nerissa is right. Covering the mark with foundation might hide it from view, but it can’t disguise the indentation carved into my skin. “Oh my gods, it’s true.” Madison exclaims.

I have a lot of tattoos and most of them mean something to me, but the scratches she leaves on me are the best markings I have. The rhythm we've made drives me crazy, hard and fast yet still so tender and loving. Amelia tips her head back up to the ceiling as she rides me hard, moaning loudly as my fingers start to quickly rub her where our bodies connect. I don't know how much longer I can last, and part of what pushes me over the finishing line is watching her do the same.

"Are you well?" "It would have been better if you hadn't made me come here." "Take that ball and come back at once!", his voice turns arrogant again. "You're already pissing me off!" When I go to respond to your affront, I have my attention stolen by a tree. The tree was littered with marks, but the ones that gave me the creeps were the most recent ones. They were thick, like scratches. I run my hand over them and see that each mark is thicker than my fingers. Not even a hunting knife could make such a mark with such precision. My vision focuses on the other trees and I see that there are more of the same marks on them, but this time thicker, bigger and at a lower height.

Scarlett is last, already alert behind her stillness, like she never really slept at all. “You didn’t sleep,” she says. It’s not a question. I nod. She cocks her head. “Why?” I pull my shirt down just enough to show them the claw marks. Four ragged slashes. Red, crusted and healing fast. Everyone freezes and stares in confusion. “What the hell?” Erik asks. “Did you… run into something last night?” I shake my head. “Nope. Didn’t leave camp at all.” “Then how-” Elliott trails off.