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Trusting the Devil
publish date:
2026-06-19 22:36:00
Latest chapter
His Virgin Stripper The Beautiful Illusion
MarcelloI looked down at my side, my vision narrowing as the cold air of the reception office rushed into the tear in my clothes. For a single fraction of a second, the sensation of a deep abdominal puncture had threatened to lock my lungs. But as the layout of the strike registered in my mind, the truth became clear.The blade hadn't sunk into my gut. My split-second torso twist had altered the trajectory of his thrust. Instead of piercing my flesh, the heavy hunting knife had sliced cleanly and deeply across the palm of my left hand, which I had thrown up as a desperate shield to catch the weapon before it could reach my center.A small, ragged breath of relief left my lips, the tension draining out of my shoulders in a quiet hiss. It was just a flesh wound on my palm. I could handle a sliced hand; I had fought through far worse with bone exposed to the air. As I stared at the dark blood beginning to well up in the creases of my skin, a strange, uncharacteristic thought flashed
His Virgin Stripper The Devil Bleeds
MarcelloMy eyes locked onto the perimeter the second the SUV pulled out of the gravel driveway, the heavy, reinforced tires kicking up a spray of dirt as it accelerated into the fading, late afternoon light. I didn't look directly at Sienna through the heavily tinted, armored glass, but my chest tightened with a rare, unwanted spike of raw adrenaline until the tail lights cleared the main iron gate. She was out of the immediate line of fire, moving toward safety, or at least the closest thing to a sanctuary that existed within the borders of my world.A sudden flicker of movement caught my attention, breaking my focus.Through a narrow, jagged gap in the crumbling concrete wall bordering the eastern edge of the property, I caught a bastard crouching near the edge of the alleyway. His frame was tense and rigid as he raised a high-caliber rifle, tracking the path of the vehicle. Before my hand could even clear my holster, the bastard pulled his trigger.Thud.His suppressed weapon c
His Virgin Stripper Trusting the Devil
Sienna The air in the small sitting room was dead, frozen solid by the terrifying presence of the men who had suddenly occupied our space.BANG! BANG!A couple more gunshots blasted through the thin exterior walls of the apartment building, the sounds incredibly loud, sharp, and violent. Right after the gunfire came a series of deep, agonizing groans, followed by a raw, curdling scream that was cut short by a heavy, wet thud. The sounds echoed clearly from the stairwell just beyond our front door. Hearing that brutal chaos so close made a wave of icy reality crash over me. The alleyway outside that Roxy and I had been so desperately running toward—it wasn't safe. There was no escape out there. We were completely trapped, caught between a firing squad outside and a room full of armed giants.My eyes darted frantically across the small space, scanning the crowded room desperately looking for Marcello. Among all the imposing, heavily tattooed strangers currently holding black firearm
His Virgin Stripper Who the Hell is Marcello?
Sienna The bedroom was dead quiet after the door closed, leaving the air heavy, still, and suffocating.I sat cross-legged on the edge of the mattress, already dressed in a pair of faded sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that felt too large for my frame. In my right hand, I held up a small plastic compact mirror, forcing myself to look directly at my reflection. The light cutting through the cheap blinds was unforgiving. It highlighted the raw, swollen puffiness around my eyelids, the dull emptiness in my stare, and the heavy, dark shadows bruising the pale skin beneath my eyes. I looked completely drained, like a ghost inhabiting a body that didn't belong to me anymore.I opened my concealer, dabbing the thick cream under my eyes in a mechanical, repetitive motion to try and hide how exhausted I was. But as I stared at my face, my hand froze. My mind drifted right back to the dark corner of the room. Back to the kiss.My heart gave a sudden, violent stutter against my ribs, the r
His Virgin Stripper Whispers of War
SiennaThe doorknob rattled again, a sharp, metallic warning that sliced through the heavy, intoxicated air of the bedroom. Outside, the old wood of the frame creaked as Roxy leaned her weight against it, her patience officially wearing thin.Inside, I was drowning.Panic flooded my veins, completely washing away the molten heat Marcello had just branded into my skin. I bunched his expensive shirt into my fists and shoved against him with everything I had left. I hit his chest, my knuckles striking the solid wall of his muscles over and over in a desperate, silent rhythm. *Move. Please, just move.* I said desperately in my head like he could hear my thoughts.He didn't even flinch. The frantic thrashing of my arms seemed to mean absolutely nothing to his massive frame. Instead, he simply adjusted his hold, his large hand tightening against the nape of my neck to anchor me completely. As the doorknob twisted to its limit and stopped, blocked by the cheap bolt, Marcello leaned down,
His Virgin Stripper Broken Trance
SiennaMy back pressed hard against the bedroom wall, trapped completely beneath his massive frame as his hands locked me into place. There was no room to move, no space to slip away from the intense, suffocating heat coming off his skin. The cold laminate flooring beneath my bare feet felt miles away compared to the sudden, chaotic rush of blood roaring in my ears.I felt tiny against him, completely swallowed up by his shadow and the physical reality of his presence in my room.Every boundary I had spent the last three years establishing seemed to blur under the raw force of his touch. My relationship with Dave had been quiet, predictable, and careful. We had a routine built on safety, where every movement was familiar and gentle. Dave had never held me with this kind of unyielding, dominant force. He had never taken my breath as if it belonged to him, or made me feel like I was about to dissolve into nothing. Marcello wasn't waiting for permission; he was taking what he wanted,
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