Dance With The Devil Book Novels & Stories

Just when I'm about to protest his persistence, I feel his fingers make their way inside me, giving my clitoris rich and soft caresses. "Oh, my God!"I scream. I don't care if anyone hears me anymore. "No, baby, it's not God," she replies, her voice dripping with lust, "it's your devil, and a very evil one at that." He's never called me that before. The movements of his fingers become more frantic. The heat and excitement inside me intensifies even more. "Your demon, your devil, making you scream with pleasure." He's right. It's the devil making me scream with pleasure, igniting me with his fire, taking me to his exciting and delicious hell.

Like a coal being nudged after lying still for too long. Her head snapped back on a cry, spine bowing, chains jerking taut. The Devil bent over her, chest to her back, mouth at her ear, his hands clamped around her hips as if holding her in place against the storm he’d unleashed. Caelum’s fingers dug into the stone. The ember inside him flared. Not enough to light. But enough to hurt. A throbbing ache blossomed deep in his chest, syncing with the cadence of their movements. Every time the Devil drove into her, Caelum’s magic twitched, reaching. Every time she shuddered, the ember pulsed, as if answering her.

"Because I'm hard for you." "This is a devil's bargain," she mutters. I lean my face down, kiss her jaw, cup one heavy breast with my free hand, weigh it like I wanted to from the first moment I saw her naked. I rub her pussy. "Are you going to come on the devil's hand, then?" I ask. She fists her hands, punches my chest. It doesn't hurt. I wonder if she meant for it to. Probably. It's quiet, the only sound that of her wet arousal.

“Is a woman's dressing an automatic invitation? From what my men told me, you were the one who couldn't take no for an answer.” “It doesn't a'ight. I'm sorry. I was drunk, Man.” “You touched what doesn’t belong to you,” I said quietly, crouching in front of him. “My Wife. And you think being drunk is an excuse?” “I didn’t know, I didn’t—” “Okay,” I responded quietly, walking towards the table where different torture instruments were spread out. “You for real? You gone let me go?” I picked up a sledgehammer; his eyes widened to the size of saucers. I couldn't see my face, but I knew my smile was that of the devil's, because if it wasn't, I wouldn't be enjoying every second of this.

I inhaled sharply and ran my fingers in the hair out of frustration. "What's the deal?" Right now, I want her underneath me, withering and moaning with pleasure while I ruin her hole for good. "Another contract with you." She did not hesitate to say that and I expected that. Delilah Richards is no less than a prostitute. A prostitute warms someone's bed for the sake of money and she does the same for the offers. That's how she became an A-listed model. A contract with the Weavers is enough for anyone's career. Although she is a slut but she is talented. I cannot deny that but I hate the fact that talent is underrated for her and she seals the deals with her body instead.

This was the real cost of the empire Sandro had built. This was the devil she had married. Yet beneath the revulsion, a twisted attraction stirred. The way he stood there, powerful and unyielding, blood on his hands because someone had dared threaten her… it unlocked a primal part of her she hated herself for acknowledging. Her body still hummed from their earlier encounters, and now this raw display of dominance only heightened the conflicting pull inside her. She was horrified. She was also, shamefully, drawn to the monster who would burn the world to keep her safe.

“You know I could make all this go away. I can make the charges disappear, but I’m going to need something from you first.” I knew what it was before he even said it. “Sign the papers,” he leaned down to tuck a strand of hair from my face while maintaining eye contact with me. “And then disappear from my life, forever.” He said it with so much certainty that I felt like he had driven a stake clean through my heart, impaling me with his words. I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it all before it finally settled in my head. Curtis Blackwood was the fucking devil.

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.”

It was just a way for him to have control and power over me. But I’m the one with the power here. To get my revenge, I would do anything, I would give anything, and right now, I was selling my soul to the devil. But in this story, there are two devils. One doesn’t just know it yet.

Collins POV: Wanting to be so close to this girl is like a Monkey wanting to climb a banana tree, I honestly don't know what attracts me to her but I'm attracted and it's annoying. I've gone through all the occurrences I've had with her in my head and all I can say is I'm a fool. I never planned for me to be sexual towards her, I'm a Fuck boy, yes I know but not towards my employees. "Hey man" I turned around to see Ben my best friend walking towards my bar