Todos os capítulos de Bound to the Devil: Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 110

The small hidden studio in Rome had become their sanctuary in the aftermath of the war.Luca stood in the doorway, blood still drying on his knuckles from the final, brutal confrontation that had ended the old empire. His shirt was torn in places, dark crimson stains splattered across the fabric, but none of it mattered. His eyes found Adrian across the cluttered room, paintbrush frozen mid-stroke on the canvas, and the entire world narrowed to just the two of them.Adrian dropped the brush. It clattered to the floor, forgotten.Luca crossed the room in three powerful strides, slammed the door shut behind him, and pulled Adrian into his arms with bruising force. Their mouths crashed together in a kiss that tasted of blood, desperation, and months of unbearable longing. Teeth nipped, tongues fought, breaths mingled in harsh gasps. Luca’s hands roamed greedily over Adrian’s body, relearning every curve and plane as if terrified he might disappear again.There were no words at first.Clo

Years had passed since the war ended, but the love between Luca and Adrian had only grown deeper, richer, and more consuming with time. What began as desperate survival and fiery reunion had transformed into something steady and profound a passion that burned hotter for its quiet certainty.The villa in Sicily remained their sanctuary, perched above the glittering sea. The art gallery in Rome had become their shared legacy. Adrian’s paintings, many featuring Luca in various states of raw power and serene peace, were now highly sought after by collectors across Europe. Luca had carved out a quiet role managing the gallery’s security and finances a far cry from the blood soaked empire he once ruled with an iron fist. The devil had traded his crown for paint-stained hands and sunlit mornings.This morning, like so many others, Luca woke Adrian the way he loved best sliding slowly inside him from behind. The thick head of his cock pressed against Adrian’s slick, cum-filled entrance from t

The villa in Sicily had become their true home—a sanctuary of golden sunlight, salt-kissed sea air, and a peace neither man had dared dream of during the long, blood-soaked years of war. Perched on rugged cliffs overlooking the Ionian Sea, its whitewashed walls and terracotta tiles seemed to breathe with the rhythm of the waves below. Here, the ghosts of their past grew quieter with each passing day, replaced by the simple rituals of a life reclaimed.Luca stood on the wide stone terrace at dawn, the first blush of sunrise painting the horizon in strokes of rose and amber. The cool morning breeze carried the scent of blooming jasmine and brine. Behind him, Adrian had already set up his easel, his lean frame silhouetted against the awakening light. Paint smudged his fingers and the edge of his old linen shirt, his dark hair tousled from sleep. The sight of him so focused, so free sent a wave of profound contentment through Luca’s chest. This was the man who had dragged him from the aby

The villa in Sicily had become their true home a haven of brilliant sunlight, crisp sea air, and a deep, restorative peace that mended the fractures of their turbulent past. Clinging to the sun-bleached cliffs above the restless Ionian Sea, the house welcomed them each day with open arms. Its thick stone walls held the day’s warmth, while wide terraces and lush gardens invited them to linger, breathe, and simply exist without the shadow of danger. Here, the world felt vast yet intimate, a private kingdom where two souls had finally found their anchor.Luca stood on the wide terrace at dawn, the cool breeze ruffling his dark hair as he watched the waves crash against the jagged cliffs below. Foam sprayed upward in rhythmic bursts, catching the first rays of light. Behind him, Adrian was setting up his easel with quiet precision, the morning glow illuminating his concentrated expression. Paint already dotted his fingers and the cuff of his rolled sleeves, his posture relaxed yet purpos

The villa in Sicily had become their true home a luminous sanctuary of golden sunlight, bracing sea air, and a profound, abiding peace that soothed the remnants of old scars. Clinging to the rugged cliffs where the Ionian Sea met ancient rock, the house stood as a testament to resilience and renewal. Its whitewashed walls absorbed the warmth of the day, while shaded loggias and blooming gardens offered endless invitations to rest, create, and love without fear. In this place, time stretched luxuriously, measured by the cadence of waves, the shifting light, and the quiet joy of two hearts finally at rest.Luca stood on the wide terrace at dawn, the world awakening around him in soft gradients of color. He watched the waves crash against the cliffs below, each impact sending glittering spray into the air. The horizon glowed with anticipation as the sun prepared its ascent. Behind him, Adrian was setting up his easel, arranging tubes of paint with the focused calm that always drew Luca’s