Novelas y relatos de Dante Devil May Cry Father

I kept on grinding to Dante’s tongue against my pussy, till I heard a familiar voice. “Dante I’m home..”. Both Dante and I froze at the sound of his father voice. “What the fuck..”

Dante drawled with a cold face. Renee swallowed. Should she call him uncle more so she would get spanked tonight? She couldn’t understand herself anymore. She was getting too naughty. “Who are you?"Dante asked Arturo. “I’m Arturo Medina.My father is Matteo Medina. Our family does cosmetics business."

He wasn’t always the perfect father, but I never expected him to do this. “You can’t do this!” I hiss pushing up from my chair while slamming my fists down on his desk, but it does nothing but cause my hand to throb with pain. He doesn’t see me, doesn’t care. “Don’t worry, Vance. I’ll take good care of her … I mean … I’ll break her in gently,” Dante says darkly to my father. It’s like looking at a shark and expecting it not to bite you. The only difference is this man isn’t just going to bite me, he’s going to devour me, slowly, piece by piece.

"My name is Dante. And your mommy is at home, probably going out of her mind with worry. Which is exactly where she should be." "I want to go home!" Elena screamed as Tears streamed down Elena's face. "Please, I want my mommy and daddy!" "I'm sure you do." Dante crouched down in front of her, bringing his face level with hers. "But you see, your daddy did something very bad. He offended me. Disrespected me. Made me look like a fool in front of people who matter." "My daddy wouldn't do that! He's good!" Dante laughed with a very sharp and humorless laughter. "Your daddy is many things, little girl, but good isn't one of them. He's a businessman. A predator in an expensive suit. And he stepped

And now, here I was, walking down an aisle lined with chrome and roses, heading straight into the lion’s den with a knife strapped to my thigh and revenge curled tightly inside my gut like a fist. The rev of bikes outside rumbled like a heartbeat. The compound stank of oil, leather, cigar smoke, and secrets. Tulle and flowers drooped over Harley frames like some sick joke. The scent of gasoline clung to everything. I couldn’t breathe without tasting rage. “Remember what they did to her,” my father, Vincent “Venom” Kane, president of the Crimson Fangs, growled beside me. His grip on my arm was tight, grounding. “Remember why you are here.”

And standing next to him, leaning on his wolf-headed cane, was my father. "You were always too soft for him, Dante!" Vincenzo’s voice boomed over the wind, amplified by the industrial acoustics. "The boy is a snake! He thinks he can outplay the Old World with his digital tricks! But the Old World still knows how to pull a trigger!" "Father, stop!" I yelled, shielding Julian with my body. "The boy dies tonight, Dante!" Vincenzo screamed. "And then you will realize that blood is the only thing that matters! Pietro, finish it!"

Dante asked with an arched brow "Because, if you are then daddy is going to be really angry. I am telling you, son." "What? No, Dad. Why would I do that? You and Mommy, both are my superheroes." he replied, leaned close to his father, and hugged him "Love you so much, Dad. And, I promise you that I won't go anywhere again without you." "I love you too, my son. Now go and find Uncle Valentino and play video games with him. He was saying earlier that no one can win from him. Aren't you going to prove him wrong, son?" I know what was Dante doing and laughed.

Notwithstanding the bruises, his piercing, defiant eyes were fixed on Dante with unadulterated hate. "You are doing something wrong," the man growled. Dante rolled up his sleeves and sighed. "I am not prone to errors." "This is not how your father would have handled it." Quiet. The room's temperature dropped. I kept my face unreadable, but I saw it—the slight clench of Dante’s jaw, the way his fingers curled into a fist before relaxing. His dad. It was a tender spot. Dante crouched in front of the man and took a slow step forward. "Do you think you will be saved by bringing up my father?"

He wanted to punch himself because he made the devil exist in his mind over him earlier. “What should I do so that what my son did doesn’t lead to a big conflict?” Dante asked almost in a whisper. “If I’m going to be followed, the Chairman needs to know,” said Cyrus. Dante glimpsed a little light at what he heard. “Sorry for what I said earlier. I was just shocked and angry because of what happened to my son. My ego as his father was also hurt because a woman rejected him.” “Huh, can you still say that now if my friend’s personality is not special?” Cyril asked the gentleman sarcastically.

This made my father proud. He told me this many times, especially after seeing me at my worst. They called him when I was too anxious with my knife, the blood of our enemies staining every part of me as red as the Devil. This is where the legend of il Diavolo (The Devil) was born . Eviscerate, dismember, break... the pain I distributed was returned tenfold in my father's love.