Snar Sk Novels & Stories

He got a stiffy just being NEAR a woman like Anya. "Hey guys," said Nathan excitedly. There was another man beside him when he emerged from the building. "Snake?" Mindy exclaimed, embracing the thin man. Snake was one of the Strays who had left after the last battle with the Hellspawn. He was a thin man whose Talent was the ability to run at tremendous speed across or even up most any surface. "Yeah," he said with a blush. "Nathan told me what was up and . . . and I felt like crap for leaving anyway so . . ."

she sniffled. “No chance in hell, Shortcake.” He smiled at her and walked back around the house to his bike. If he stayed any longer, he might just ask her to stay. But she needed this chance, and he knew that. Still, why did it hurt so bad? Gemma sat there and listened for Tony’s motorcycle to start. When she heard the familiar roar of the motor she pulled the hood over her head and hit her vape. She pulled the strings tighter around her face and let the tears she had been holding back all day hit in full force. She finally fell asleep.

A large group of students stood outside, skipping class to drink and smoke. All of them were standing except for one. He wore a black hoodie with a small red broken heart on it, black jeans, and red sneakers. A black cap covered his head, and his twists framed his face perfectly, reaching just past his chin. Tattoos adorned his neck and hand. Every time I saw his face, I couldn't help but feel captivated. A few girls lingered around him as he leaned back, a cigarette perched between his lips. He closed his eyes momentarily, taking a long drag before exhaling.

Rosette involuntarily gasped upon witnessing Ryana reaching into her attire, realizing her intent. Recollections surfaced among the women at the clinic of Ryana's comical habit of stashing items in her bra, known as her "second purse." Rosette pondered why the pack had neglected to search her. Before she could vocalize her concerns, Ryana extracted something from her concealed spot. Unaware of her actions, Kyle advanced towards her, leaving no time for a warning; Rosette hesitated, uncertain the wolf would heed her if she urged him to cease. Fearing Ryana possessed a harmful spell, Rosette hesitated.

“Before anything happens… what’s your name, little thief?” Shania swallowed hard, lips parting under his thumb. “Shania,” she whispered, voice breathy. “My name is Shania.” A low, approving rumble vibrated from the chest behind her. The twin in front smiled—slow, filthy, and full of dark promise. “I’m Damian,” he said, thumb pressing just inside her lower lip for a moment, letting her taste the salt of his skin. “And this is my brother, Killian.”

He shook his head and picked me up in his lap, I sniffed on his shoulders as he rubbed my back. "Mrs Danker, you are mine and officially." E N D

Heather snaps and I watch as her frame disappears before moving my gaze to Sinclair who has a smile on his face. Without a word, I jump off the counter and move to my knees before him, hooking my hands around his sweatpants and pulling it down his legs. "Little Greene, " he says in a warning tone as I yank down his boxers, his dick springing free. "Now that I think about it, I want to leave here with the scent and taste of your come. " I wink before wrapping my mouth around his cock, a grunt falling from his lips as he grabs my head and shoves his cock down my throat.

He came outside with two bags and I took the smaller one. I left and drove to East 95th Street. I parked the bike in a side street on South Chappel Avenue and walked to the building on South Jeffrey Boulevard. I picked the lock and entered the building and went up to the roof. I found my spot and bent down on one knee and unzipped the bag Bo had given me. I took out the Remington CSR and proceeded to assemble it. The CSR stands for concealable sniper rifle and it was a beauty. Disassembled the rifle came in three units, the receiver with the folding stock, the handguard and the barrel.

His silver-blond hair is combed back, a few strands falling loose near his temple. He looks up and our eyes magnetically lock. And just for a second, the room shifts around us, not visibly, but I feel it—like a change in atmospheric pressure before a storm. I look away before I am distabilized. My eyes land on Sora besides him. She wears a black backless halter gown entirely sequined, a slit rising high along her thigh. The dress doesn’t just shimmer—it cuts. Her posture is effortless, chin slightly lifted, gaze alert. She sees me looking and she smiles. But its anything but warm or polite.

I command “Yes.” She breathes nodding before turning her head away from me. As soon as I reach my armoury room I change into a pair of dark jeans, a black V-neck t-shirt and put on my boots. I strap on my 9mm underneath my shirt, grab my sniper case and insert my Matsuda blade onto my back. I was getting ready to party.