Bliss whimpers softly.
A striking, nude young man ran killers fingers down his shoulders, arms, chest, stomach, legs
His shirt was roughly tugged off; dried blood and sweat causing the stained material to cling to his skin, the raw bullet holes stung as the cloth caught in them was torn out. The wounds began to well up once more.
Again he cried out, writhing as the flesh was further opened to let the other slide his thumb and index in to retrieve the tiny metal nub, slick and dark with blood, from the torn muscle.
Shh, A sultry voice cooed, pressing Bliss head against her bare breast, a gentle hand brushing the ebony hair from pained eyes, Well put every single one back into her













