Beauty And The Devil Novels & Stories

They all look pale and exhausted on the corner of their lips is a blood stain. All thanks to the brave stance each of them took trying to suppress the king's beast that has become feral since two full days. The night after he visited the DeHaven maid's room. king Xerxes ended up making another visit to the prince’s room. Unfortunately or fortunately for him,he was not disappointed because the prince possesses the kiss of the devil's star on his nape. A mark that could only be found on his soulmate.

" I replied shyly and gazed at their faces one by one. "Awww, he's so adorable for his age, look at those pouty lips, don't be shy around us, come give big bro a hug." [BANG!] "You there! Stop chattering and pay attention!" Miss Dorothy crumpled a piece of paper and threw it at Casper, there shouldn't have been a problem and the disaster could have been avoided, only that Casper caught the paper out of reflex and threw it back to her. "He's dead," I heard someone say behind us, and the look on Miss Dorothy's face couldn't be shaped out,

I wanted her for myself then and I want her for myself now. The notorious Devil is a title and reputation I’ve very much earned. When a Devil wants something, he takes it. And I’ve ignored my own wants and needs long enough. It’s time I give in to the urge to drive Nova to the edge of madness and show her the darker sides to be found in pleasure. The ones carefully mixed with an appropriate measure of pain.

he said finally, his voice low, a whisper that sent shivers down her spine, “you will learn that ownership is absolute. And the sooner you accept it… the less painful it will be.” Her hands balled into fists. Anger and fear warred within her. “this place is worse than hell” she whispered, though even she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice. He stepped back, watching her, his expression unreadable, perfectly composed. “Hell?” he said softly. “that was just a reminder that you were owned by a devil, don't let me show you how I punish those who try to defy me. That is all. In time, Yesha Elaine, you will understand that obedience is safe… and that resistance is nothing but illusion.”

He got down a second mug without answering, which I took as a yes. We ended up at the kitchen island—him on one side, me on the other—with the mugs between us and the city a quiet dark sprawl beyond the windows. He seemed completely unselfconscious about being shirtless, which I appreciated. Being self-conscious on his behalf would have required me to be self-conscious in general, and I was already spending a lot of energy not doing that. He was beautiful. Not in the way of someone who worked at it, but in the way of a structure that’s simply in correct proportion—the kind of beauty that has nothing to do with vanity and doesn’t offer itself up. Which made it harder to look away from.

he murmured. Seraphina straightened as best she could, chin lifted. “If you're here to kill me, get it over with.” A soft chuckle echoed through the hollow room. “Kill you?” he echoed. “No, sweetheart. You’re far too valuable for that.” He stepped closer, and the light finally caught his face. She sucked in a sharp breath. He was beautiful—in the way a blade was beautiful. Sharp, polished, and meant to destroy. Midnight-black hair fell carelessly across his forehead, and his eyes—those eyes—burned with an unnatural crimson glow. A devil’s gaze. No humanity, just hunger.

“Return to the world of men. Forget the blood. Forget the beast.” I reached for the obsidian stone. It was burning against my skin, but I didn’t pull away. I closed my eyes and stopped fighting the images. Instead, I dove into them. I didn’t look at the cellar as a prison; I looked at it as the place where I first felt the spark of the Devil. I didn’t look at the silver as pain; I looked at it as the price I paid to save my mate. I found the memory of Girard’s touch in the study—the way his hands had claimed me, the way his soul had recognized mine before his mind even knew my name.

“Do you have a death wish?” Zoe was past the point of being intimidated. She shrugged, as casual as could be. “You’re definitely not an angel anyway. You’re a devil.” She paused, leaning in close to his ear to whisper, “A lustful, perverted devil.” “...” Apparently, he had been too easy on her, because this little brat was getting way too bold. Aaron didn’t say another word. He turned his attention back to bathing her, focusing on every detail with cold precision, but he refused to look at her. No matter what she said, he gave her the silent treatment.

“It’s convenience, nothing more.” She might have smiled at that—might have let the corner of her mouth lift despite everything—if her lips weren’t so tired, if her body weren’t trembling from too much, if her mind weren’t fighting itself with every uneven heartbeat. If she weren’t suddenly, painfully aware that the Devil’s human form was almost more dangerous than the Beast. Because she wasn’t prepared to find him beautiful. Because beauty invited proximity, and proximity made mistakes feel inevitable.

"Ewweee..." Ewwee? What's that all about? "Why ewweee?" I asked. "Because he's like your step-dad so he must be old, bald and have a huge belly like old those pervs." She answered. Huh! Far from it. The Devil is not old, bald, neither does he have a potbelly. I don't know what ever made her believe that he is unsightly. The Devil is beautiful, it's a curse we must all bear.