Under The Skin Book Novels & Stories

She glanced back down at the leather-bound book resting on the floorboards beside her. The empty pages seemed to stare up at her, daring her to turn them. With a trembling hand, she picked it up again, the leather warm against her palm. She knew she should get up, should finish unpacking, should do something practical, anything to distract herself from the throbbing between her legs. But she couldn't. She was hooked. The anonymous writer had become a guide, a seductress whispering secrets into her ear, and Pinky was a willing student, desperate to learn every lesson.

Four Days Later After my little sexcapade with both Alex and Lucus within the master playroom, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from wanting nor craving more. My body almost demanding it when it shouldn’t be. Currently sitting with Tony over in the library I find myself wearing nothing but a skimpy piece of lingerie yet again. The piece in the color baby pink. Grants current choice in clothing as I attempted to hide beneath a blanket at least. My eyes now glued to a novel that I had been recently reading. A book by Deborah Garland. Her Irish Mob Family drawing me into a world that was so similar to that of my own but completely different from what I knew.

I swallow the lump in my throat and descend. The air down here is cooler, thicker with the smell of leather and dust and secrets. Torches have guttered out, but faint violet light clings to the edges of things—my new sight, maybe, or the contract’s gift. The shadows dance ahead of me, playful almost, skipping along the shelves until they reach a particular bookcase. One tendril stretches, points. A heavy black tome launches itself from the highest shelf and thumps into my waiting hands. I stagger under the weight. The book is bound in leather so dark it drinks the light; no gold leaf, no embossed sigils, just smooth, inky blackness. The title is etched in silver that seems to shift when I ti

What was it about her that got under his skin? Declan lived life in perpetual movement, he couldn’t sit still. He didn’t know why but he had accepted that the busyness that buzzed under his skin was just a part of who he was. It was why his business was so successful. He thrived on work and was always looking for the next thing. Most people would look at him and think that he was all casual and laid back and that nothing ever got to him. The truth was he was like that duck on the surface of the pond - calm and serene on the surface and yet kicking like mad under the water.

Becky picked up the small bowl and examined it. “I think this was once a shell of some sort. Like a mussel or oyster shell, but look at the size of it. It must have been old when they harvested this.” Gemma set the twig on the desktop and then pulled the book out. For its size, the book was thick. A little larger than a man’s hand, and perhaps as thick as three of Gemma’s fingers. They did not make the book from paper, but the pages were much thicker. “Is this skin? I hope it's sheepskin and not human.” The cover was clearly leather, and the binding showed hand stitching. “This can’t be new. I’m afraid to open it. What if it’s not the grimoire?”

“You think you can outwit death? That thing bound to her isn’t human anymore.” I leaned back in my chair, grinning slightly. “Neither am I.” He turned away with a curse, mumbling something about fools and blood bills. But he didn’t stop me. He never did. That was his mistake. Later that night, when the camp was quiet, I returned to the book. Its pages were made of skinfold, stretched, mumbling as I turned them. The ink shimmered like dried blood. Each line pulsed softly, alive with illegal power.

Goosebumps formed on my skin, and my fingers tightened around the edge, for other reasons. Marcus must have picked up on my emotions and stalled, his gaze lifted to mine, he kissed beneath the edge of the longest claw mark, his full mouth lava on my skin. Having his mouth anywhere near my skin made me hot, but between my thighs, it was another world. The book I'd been reading had a lot of action with mouths, tongues, and that place between a woman's thighs. The mere thought of Marcus tasting me there had my body shivering. He kissed my skin and pulled away to lean toward my

The skin buzzed and snapped. The fuck? He looked. Small snakes slithered on his fingers and whipped around his hands. Over the top. Around to the palm. Between the fingers and underneath the nails. But not on the skin. Fuck no, they were in the skin. Like tattoos. Living tattoos. Red, green, blue, white tattoos that were living in his fuckin’ skin. But under the flesh like worms. Worms with fangs. His skin moved in ripples when they moved. Itched and clenched when they wrapped tight around the bones. Burned when they pushed out to inch along his nails. Attacking the octopus on his wrist and tearing it in two. Squeezing the mermaids into a bloody pulp and twisting the sailors until their head

Note::: This contain some not so pleasant sight so u might wanna miss it...those who wish to miss this just have to know that in this chapter Neet comes across a girl hiding under a table from bad people, she is an orphan so Neet took her in as her daughter. Later on Neet, Nia (little girl of 4-5 yrs) and Bella unexpectedly encounter Lev and his gang.... After some rude talk among them to know why the girls were there they went to the hospital so that Nia could be treated urgently cause of all the bruises on her body...

I only meant to give her a peck as an appreciation for her wit but I found I couldn't stop at one. Somehow my hand found its way under her sweatshirt, to the delicate skin of her stomach. It glided across to her back but the skin there wasn't as smooth as I've come to associate with her. It was jagged and uneven and seemed to spread out the higher I went. I wanted to continue exploring this odd new feature but she stiffened and extricated herself from the kiss and the enclosure of my arms. I opened my mouth but she beat me to it. “Don't ask. Please, just don't,” she said as she adjusted the sweatshirt self-consciously.