Blue Eyed Devil Book Novels & Stories

A wave of strong energy swirled around me before he spoke. "What’s the point of being a demon when you can’t use illusions to your advantage?" A devil’s smirk tugged on his mouth, and his eyes blazed red for a second before they went back to normal. "All they see is the sexy librarian helping a man look for books. They will never find out that the sexy library was about to let the man with her devour her perfect breasts."

But somehow, I always pictured a balding old man with a pot belly caused by the cheap whiskey he drowns himself in every night. But I couldn’t be more wrong. The devil isn’t horned or hideous. He’s tall, sculpted, and terrifyingly beautiful. Power clings to him like a second skin beneath the flawless cut of his suit. His face is sharp, symmetrical and too perfect to belong to someone mortal, too perfect for the blood he spills, too perfect for the cruelty he yields, and his icy blue eyes can bring even the bravest man to his knees. A cold prickling sensation erupts over my entire body like a thousand tiny needles stabbing my skin

The Bastard Devil was on the brink of transformation. It once been a Bloody Eye, that at the time passed, becoming a young man who looks like a snow in white. He was also cold, vicius-looking, yet every woman who lead their eyes at him would fall for sure. His good looks seemed his threatening aura to be his charm, every woman who admire good-looking young man sure to never resist the temptation. And that's would be their bloody end. This young man that was a Devil never love, he has a deep hatred to living people of this world. So how could he love someone raised in this place? He wouldn't do such a thing so he only killed his way to his revenge.

His sharp cheekbones and strong jawline looked sculpted, as if carved by the hands of a master artist. His lips—full, perfectly shaped—held the faintest ghost of a smirk, the kind that made women weak. But it was his eyes that unsettled me the most—icy blue, so pale they looked almost colorless, void of warmth, of mercy. How could someone this breathtaking be so cruel? He belonged on the cover of a magazine, not in a world of blood and violence. But then again, devils were always the most beautiful. I forced my spine straight, even though my body ached. Even though I could still feel the weight of the drugs slowing my limbs.

Beautiful in a way that still hurts. ‎Black tux cut to kill. ‎Eyes scanning the room like he’s cataloguing threats. ‎And then those eyes find me. ‎Across champagne flutes and chandeliers and two years of distance. ‎They find me. ‎And the glass slips from my fingers. ‎Shatters on marble like gunfire. ‎Because the devil I prayed I’d never see again just walked straight back into my life. ‎And the woman still holding my hand—the woman who just called me the kind of girl her grandson deserves—is Olga Romanov.

Devil was bleeding from his nose and mouth and he knew that the usual yellow of his eyes had sunk into a crimson red. His voice was unusually sibilent as his demonic magic threatened to overtake him. “You have no idea what I’m going to do, my love,you don't know the real me, if I can break your bond with your soulmate I can do anything, I want you to be mine and always mine and no one going to take you away from me not even dead” he said before he released the angel and moved away, opening a magic circle. "Dean" Win saw a big man with red eyes come from shadow.

She blushed. Her extremely pale skin made it even more prominent. I smiled at that. The waiter served us dinner and I dug in while she played with her food. "What do you want, Delilah?" I could not bear that tense silence so I asked and put my cutlery on the table. "You know what I want." She stared directly into my eyes and blinked like an angel. Those gray eyes had a strong impact on my d**k. I inhaled sharply and ran my fingers in the hair out of frustration.

His face didn’t hold any emotion like sadness or whatnot, but from his eyes, I could read it all. My lips parted at the realization. Was he really apologizing to me? Alejandro? The man whose authority could move mountains at will? The man they call IL DIAVOLO? ~The devil Was I dreaming? Yeah, maybe. That definitely had to be it. Never in a million years would Alejandro ever admit that he was wrong. No. I moved back a little to be sure I heard him correctly. “What?” I asked, and as if that snapped him back to reality, he frowned.

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

He believed there is no such Angel for Devil There's no such LOVE where Devil is smitten He turned into Devil was not in search of an Angel Never in his life he thought he would found it one Not definitely in his world where only Devil's reside Not definitely under moon where breeze blew kisses Baby I Wanna tell you a story Sorry if I bore you with mine It's a story of a Devil and his Angel She's everything which he's not He's sin where she's boon Ho baby tell me what was his fault He was child with castles of dreams, a happy go child who wanted a life which he could call it Peace Ho baby tell me what was his fault the world made him Devil He stayed far watching her smile, She was his word,