“Get a glass or get it fresh.” He wanted fresh, of course. There was nothing quite like a cool drink when he was alive, but now he was dead and hi... dry insides demanded warm, thick blood to satisfy.His mind drifted to Antoinette and her ghouls. Much as he loved the Prince, it was her ghouls that came to his mind when he was actually hungry. The feel of their young, healthy blood gushing over his tongue with the mix of hormones from arousal, and orgasm, it was all a glorious cocktail of taste. "And the lipstick," I say to him.He tells me he's still a little nervous about wearing lipstick. I snatchthe pouch from his hand and take the lipsticks and look at the colours.One is bright red, the other would match his maroon in his waistcoat andthe other is very subtle that would match the natural colour of his lips."That's a shame, all pretty girls look lovely wearing lipstick," I tease,handing back the lipsticks and the pouch."Please stop making fun of me," James mumbles.I move closer to. More

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