Demonic Jacket Novels & Stories

They say that love heals all….but what happens when the other half of your soul is torn away from you???What happens when you have not even begun your life and then you are all alone?Would you sell your soul to the Devil for a chance to be re-united with your love again? Would you take on the bargain with the Devil so that you might get a chance to find your soul-mate once more?Seventeen year old Aithusa, does that. She becomes a demonic creature from a normal human being selling her soul for eternal slavery just for the sake of her love. She becomes a Succubus for more than a millennia becoming a sexual slave for Hell only to forget her ordeals every twenty years and start afresh. But what happens when her love is finally in front of her and she has no memory of him? What happens when it turns out that the Devil has done nothing but tricked her into forgetting the only one for whom she had sold her soul?Will she remember who she was? Who she is? Will her love make her soul whole again and bring it back from the clutches of hell?

This is not your Average romance novel. This dark romance novel contains Steamy contents capable of turning your world upside down. - One of your biggest fantasy should not be wanting your boss bending you over his table. - Never allow your boss lead you into darkness, revealing a whole new world you never knew existed. - Never allow your boss perceive your Arousal, and know what exactly you taste like. - Never allow his spanking fly faster than sparks. Just like every worker, Rosa sees her boss as a workaholic who loves his job, invest his time into making it a profiting organization, but what she never knew was that Axel has a darker side of him he never showed to anyone, the dominating, possessive, and demonic side of him. Her biggest fantasies were to get her boss bending her over on his table, doing those terrible things to her, exploring every inch, every curves of her body, most especially her sensitive parts. Rosa's fantasies was becoming a reality the moment a message beep her phone.

Ayah Adler is a nineteen-year-old girl who had a traumatizing childhood growing up which forced her to leave her country and parents to move to Japan where she struggles to make ends meet. Working three jobs at a time was hectic in itself as she became entangled with a ruthless Billionaire who cared nothing about the hurt he caused others. But time plays Its part as she becomes reluctant to accept his demonic sides but will she ever feel what he feels? Elio Ford is a twenty-four-year-old young billionaire who owns one of the most influential security companies in the world and is known to have the nickname ’The Ruthless’. His traumatized heart makes him close his mind to anything that gives him pleasure but when he lands on an encounter with a girl so fierce, he loses his mind to grand indulgence. And when he offers her the contract, her refusal makes him more persistent in making her his. Will Ayah give in to her own desires when he makes her his or will the past haunt them both? Or what will happen when their path connects?

I am Hilary Mattel, the outcast who lives like nobody in her own home. I'm subjected to horrific abuse and mental torture by my step sister and stepmother, who can't stand the sight of me. They made themselves the thorn in my flesh, and my own father turned his back on me because of the collocated history he shared with my late mother. I had always longed to get away from my demonic family when I met my mate, but my hopes were crushed because he turned out to be worse than them. When I found out that I was getting into an arranged marriage to a poor man, I was broken, and that led to me seeking solace in alcohol and ended up in a stranger’s bed. He made me feel what I had never felt before. He consumed me. And just when I thought my life couldn't get any worse after cheating on my mate, the stranger I whored myself to turned out to be Lucas Huntergrove, the ruthless and elusive Alpha, who embodied secrecy in its purest form. Now, I'm caught in a web of lies and deadly enemies. Will Lucas and I yield to the burning attraction between us, or will I be consumed forever trapped in his deadly web?

I cringe in fear, he traces his finger down my half naked body feasting his eyes on me, I can tell my already wet transparent outfit isn't helping matters, I feel his hand graze through my nipple slightly he turns me over making me face the wall, I feel his bulge rub against me,I try pushing him but he pins me down with no effort at all, "It won't be fun if you don't resist" I'm hit by a sharp wave of pain as he thrusts into me gradually it turns to pleasure as he thrusts faster,harder and quicker my brain tells me to fight him off and run but my body aches for more pleasure than ever,I've always been this kind of slut but tonight I feel violated, He turns me over to face him I watch his lips move closer aiming for a kiss,disgusted and irked I kick him in the groin causing him to fall and sprawl on the ground ,I reach for my jacket, he pulls me by my ankle I try kicking him off but he's holding on too tight, restless and impatient I reach for the gun just before me pulling the trigger without second thought, he stays still not moving seconds after blood come gushing out from his abdomen,I hear claps come from behind "Well-done Nikita, welcome to the crib"

Warning: DARK ROMANCE Story contains detailed mature scenes possessing dubious consent not recommended for age group below 18 years old. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Prologue Shadows engulfed him in a beautiful embrace. He looked like an angel with devilish intentions. It wasn't until he took a step towards her did the gravity of situation descended upon her and even then she couldn't do anything but shake in fear. She knew making a run for it won't do a thing, calling was not an option and if she screamed...she opened her mouth to scream but a meek plea came out. Her body's lack of response terrified her, tears gathered in her orbs with horrible anticipation. With his each step nearer she gripped the frame of her window tighter hoping to keep her balance. It took him three steps to be inches away from her body. He slowly took his suit jacket off, making himself comfortable as he amusingly watched her shaken face. She was so horror-stricken to even look at his face. She gulped as his hand cupped her neck in a gentle grip, guiding her eyes to his. His eyes slipped from the hold of her eyes to her lips in a second. She grew self conscious all over again. His heated gaze on her lips was unwavering. In the moment of bewilderment and growing self awareness her tongue unconsciously wiped her lips wet and it was all it took for him to descent on her lips.

In 1612, he couldn’t save her. In 2026, he might not want to. Elias Thorne was a man of maps and measurements, the King’s most trusted surveyor, until the smoke of the Lancashire witch trials choked the life out of everything he loved. Catherine wasn’t a witch—she was just an innocent woman caught in the gears of a superstitious world. When Elias was turned into something monstrous that same year, he didn't see it as a curse; he saw it as a deadline. He had forever to find a way to bring her back. For four centuries, Elias moved through the shadows of history, building an empire of wealth and dark influence. He hunted every myth, funded every occult discovery, and bled for every lead—all to find a soul that refused to return. He grew bitter, his heart hardening into the very stone of the London streets he walked. He eventually gave up on the heavens and the hells, settling into a life of cold, immortal apathy. Then, on a Tuesday afternoon, he sees her. She’s standing in line for coffee, wearing headphones and a denim jacket, looking exactly like the woman he watched die under a grey Jacobean sky. She has no memory of the fire, the maps, or the man who has spent four hundred years hating the world for her sake. Now, Elias faces a choice: Walk away and let her live the peaceful life he once prayed for, or reclaim a love that doesn’t belong to him anymore. But Catherine has secrets of her own—and in the modern world, the ghosts of 1612 are finally starting to catch up.

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

A Golden Cage. A Secret Predator. An Unyielding Obsession. My family sold me as collateral to a monster, but the man who dismantled my hell was a coffee-brewing widower with a trillion-dollar secret. To Manhattan’s elite, I, Claire Desmond, am nothing more than a flawed asset—ready to be liquidated to save my family’s throne from bankruptcy. Jake Floyd, the arrogant billionaire holding my father’s debt, wants me as a submissive trophy in his golden cage. Amidst the desperation and the betrayal of my own flesh and blood, my only sanctuary is the warm embrace of Gareth Hamilton—a single father and SoHo cafe owner who looks at me as if I’m the only woman left on earth. But Gareth is more than just the scent of espresso and the denim jacket he lent me on a stormy night. Beneath his deadly calm, he is a cold-blooded apex predator capable of erasing my enemies with a single snap of his fingers. He quietly hacked his way into my life, bought out my family’s debt, and built an impenetrable fortress around me—all without letting me see the chains he was forging. When the lies about his true identity unravel and the ghosts of his dark past come seeking vengeance, I’m forced to face a reality that shatters my sanity. Is the man who claimed me with an intoxicating kiss the home I’ve been searching for... or just a new master, far more dangerous than the devil I left behind?

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.