Novel & Cerita Dance With The Devil Book

' In real those men were gifting his soul to the Devil, and the Devil was that silhouette. And The Devil never accepts a gift which doesn't scream for mercy. ************************** ************************** Guys kindly vote for the book. I hope you all are enjoying the book. Lemme know in the comment section. Love you all!!!

Are they some kind of a big ass organization, where bastards like Cole gather? When I turned to look at the devil, my confusion grew. He was just staring at the in front silently, like he was afraid he’d lost his sight out of him. I wanted to ask him questions, but he looks like he’s going to implode at one touch. He’s standing completely still, while his eyes are fixed on the old man with an intensity I’ve never seen before. The casual, smirking Cole I know is gone. He’s looking deadly. The politician—or whatever he is—wraps up his speech with a practiced smile. “Please, enjoy the rest of the evening.” He stepped down, and the room erupted into polite applause.

So tender and so sweet. Althaia wrapped her arms around my neck as my hands slid down to her ass, lifting her to me. I fucking loved those legs around me. “Want to dance with The Devil in the sheets?” I asked against her lips, already walking us over to the bed. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” She leaned slightly back to look at me. “Why not?” “I, uh…happen to be kind of…loud?” I smiled when her cheeks started to get flushed.

He wouldn't dare tell Devon. Derrick ignored me as he continued blabbing on. " She hated you! Wanted to kill you! Do you what she always called you, a devil! You were the devil, Devon! " “That’s a lie!” Devon snapped. “Oh?” Derrick taunted. “Because I remember holding her while she cried about how much she hated you. Devil Devon! " “That is not true!” I shouted, my voice breaking. Derrick laughed. “Isn’t it? Then why did you try to forget your sorrows by sucking my dick?! "

Only the foolish make deals with the devil. Only the ones drowning in pride… or pain. Because the devil doesn’t barter. He doesn’t wait at crossroads. He doesn’t ask for permission. He takes. He does not knock—he kicks down the door. He does not beg—he commands. He does not love—he consumes. He wraps his hunger in charm, his cruelty in confidence, his madness in tailored suits and cold, perfect smiles. And once you catch his eye, it’s already too late.

Devon reached for my hand to pull me from my seat. "I am not much of a dancer." "It can't be that different than handy footwork when you are training. Pretend you are training me." For someone who had never seen battle or murdered anyone in cold blood, he was confident and sure of himself. I hardly had to do anything. Our bodies swayed together, and he twirled me around like I weighed nothing. The music slowed, and I slid my arms around his neck. Devon was not too big and bulky like wolves. It was nice how our bodies just seemed to fit together.

• Psychological Play & Obsession – Not your average romance; this love is dangerous, addictive, and consuming. If any of the above makes you uncomfortable, please exit now. This book was written for dark-minded adult readers who embrace forbidden fantasies and an unfiltered, primal imagination. You have been warned. Now, step inside… if you dare. THE DEVIL’S VISIT BOOK 1 Intro; Zoey is a simple housewife whose husband is never home, leaving her lonely, touch starved, and constantly craving the attention he no longer gives her. The silence inside their marriage slowly becomes an illness one that keeps her awake at night with dangerous thoughts and secret desires she’s too ashamed to admit out

DANTE'S POV People call me the Devil of New York. They're not wrong. I've killed men for less than a dirty look. I've gutted rats who thought they could steal from me. I've fucked women who begged for mercy and made them beg for more pain instead. My empire runs on blood, loyalty, and fear. That's the only language this rotten world understands. And tonight, I reminded everyone of it. Crawford thought he could play me. Thought he could borrow money from my syndicate, promise returns, and then ghost like I'm some dumb fuck banker. No. You don't spit in my face and walk away.

It wasn't the first time she had left home that way and remembering the gold old days brought her a sense of nostalgia. She remained in her hotel room for the rest of the approaching 24 hours and on the second night, she decided to let go of herself and have some fun. Dressed in a beautiful silver dress, she found her way into the booming Devil’s Den club. A popular one known around the entire country. The bass of the music thumped against her chest as she made her way towards the bar to get herself a drink straight away. The air was thick with alcohol and cigar, a scent she was extremely familiar with and wasn't affected by it at all.

"You gave her that money willingly. Last I checked, you were practically celebrating. So happy about this." "Things changed." She changed them. "She's in my territory now, Dmitri. That's all that matters." A beat of silence. Then — "The devil is coming down to hell, gentlemen." His voice dropped away from the phone as he announced it to the room. "Brace yourselves." I ended the call. Good mood. Excellent, in fact. Time to let the beast out.