Sweet Like Candy In My Veins Novels & Stories

Soft and fluffy with a special taste of fermented raspberry candy, it makes his soul leave his body to fly in the sky where the clouds are made of cotton candy. He sucks it lightly and carefully, trying to control his instinct, which if he loses the reins, he will tear his candy between his teeth and he is not even satisfied. So he took it quietly, sucking it sometimes and kissing it gently at other times, raising his other palm to surround her cheek, allowing himself to get all possible angles, feeling her hands holding onto his, to open his eyes, which he closed as his bliss began.

Her. It hit me low and hard, like a sucker punch to the ribs. Sweetness. Not the sickly kind. No—this was heady. Addictive. Something made of honey and blood-red roses, soaked in midnight and secrets. There was power in it. A bloodline touched by something older than this place. Older than even me. Ancient. Timeless. Wrong. And yet—so damn right. The craving sharpened to a blade. I followed. Like a sinner chasing absolution.

“Drink. It’ll help with those nerves.” I took a small sip. The liquor burned smoothly down my throat, spreading warmth through my chest. “I shouldn’t be here,” I whispered. “And yet you are.” He turned toward me, his knee brushing mine. Even that small contact sent electricity racing up my leg. “Tell me why, little one. Be honest.” I stared into my glass, cheeks burning. “I don’t know. You… you said things up there that no one’s ever said to me.” “Like what?” He leaned closer, voice dropping. “Like how I want to fuck you so hard you forget your own name? Or how I’ve been wondering all night how sweet that pretty little pussy tastes?”

"Stop pretending you're dying and keep dragging everyone down. Just looking at you annoys me. Hurry up, eat them, and go to sleep. I'm late for my gathering!" I unscrewed the cap with trembling hands. What came out wasn't white tablets. It was piece after piece of colorful, chewy candy. They were the imported candies Zara loved to eat. At that moment, my heart hurt even more than my body. Even so, I put one of the sickeningly sweet candies into my mouth and chewed it hard. The artificial flavor spread through my mouth, mixing with the taste of blood in my throat until it became utterly nauseating.

The lethal dose of cyanide glints coldly in the fluorescent light, a promise of release, of peace. I press the final kiss to Mercy’s lips, breathing in the fading scent of her, committing every detail of her face to memory. “I love you,” I murmur against her skin. “I loved you all my life.” I watch the monitor, waiting for the moment. And when I hear it, when I finally see that line go flat, I plunge the needle into my vein, depressing the plunger. The poison burns as it enters my bloodstream, a searing pain that fades into a spreading numbness.

But before I could drown in weakness, he tore his wrist open with his teeth and pressed it to my mouth. “Drink,” he commanded, voice raw, guttural. His blood was ambrosia, thick, metallic, yet impossibly sweet. The moment it touched my tongue, I was undone. My body arched off the bed as the taste filled me, ecstasy burning in every nerve, every cell. I clutched his arm, drinking greedily, moaning as if it were the most forbidden drug. It was. It was life and death, sin and salvation, all in one.

I can't believe I'm related to the same guy who has the same good looks like me. "I don't smell that. I smell dark chocolate with a hint of cotton candy, and it's making my mouth water. Where is it coming from?" he asks, looking around. "I don't smell that. I smell dark chocolate with a hint of cotton candy. Why me?" I rub my temples with one hand while the other is on my hip.

Honey, black pepper, dark chocolate. Something sweet with a sting in it. It seemed appropriate.

He approached slowly, unwrapping a piece of mango candy and placing it between his lips. "I brought what you asked for," he murmured, pulling me close. His mouth descended on mine, our lips meeting as the sweet candy dissolved between us, the tropical flavor mixing with the taste of him. His tongue pushed the candy into my mouth, following it to explore me thoroughly. I moaned as his hands slid down my back, gripping my hips and pulling me against him. The sweetness of the candy contrasted with the rough urgency of his touch as he backed me toward the bed.

I got my bouquet, I got a question, are you trying to give me diabetes or perhaps get me hooked on sugar? It takes him a few minutes before he texts me back. ... oh no, the only thing I'd want you hooked on is me Stormie and I'd never make you sick! do you not like sweets? .... the only time I really have sweets is when I'm suffering monthly, I'm not too crazy about sweets but thank you though, it's just the sugar rush of energy I needed to get through the afternoon ... you're very welcome Stormie ... what are you up to though?