Devil Daddy Novels & Stories

' 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂 𝒖𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

She ran away and left her alone in the hands of this demon. She looked at Eric who had a devilish smile on his face, then stared down at her stomach. ‘Maybe you were meant to be a mafia after all.’

Lucy answered, eyes on the ceiling. "I don't get." Maris blinked rapidly at Lucy, feeling dirtier than a gutter. "A demon feeds by having sex with me?" "Yeah, like Incubus. But this one isn't an Incubus, it's what the devil needs to complete his ritual to rule the Earth and Hades." "So it's the devil's entity that everyone has been haunting me for?" Maris questioned and Lucy nodded. Abruptly, the door creaked open and Maris jerked, crawling away from the bars and stopped just beside Lucy.

Angelina had never seen anything that scary in her life. "I had previously thought that you were the devil's incarnate. Turns out I was wrong. Dead wrong. You're worse than the devil himself, Devilina. Because you're a bitch. A filthy, disgusting, cheap bitch. A bitch eager to sink her clawing fangs into any willing magnate. A bitch who's constantly in heat twenty four hours a day for seven days, as long as there are dicks with deep, loaded pockets around."

He called to me, his smile unwavering, “Say it.” The room went frigid as I said, almost whispering, “You are a demon.” His eyes blazed a bright yellow, and a smile spread across his face. It couldn’t be possible, it couldn’t be—a demon in this realm. However, this demon wasn’t your typical one; whereas regular demons had black eyes, his eyes were yellow. I cringed at the thought of that term, “Memphis,” and it suddenly clicked in my mind like atoms exploding together.He could tell I knew exactly who he was, so he urged me, “Go on.” “You are the devil’s spawn, Memphis Morningstar. Archdemon. “The prince of hell and the king of the cross-road demons,” I remark, observing his smile widen. Godda

No humanity, just hunger. “You’re him,” she whispered. “The Devil of the Underworld.” He bowed his head slightly, a mockery of courtly manners. “Dante Moretti. Though most only whisper my name.” Her heart pounded. Dante Moretti wasn’t just a crime lord—he was a myth. A monster in a designer suit. A man with more blood on his hands than the war itself. Rumors said he didn’t age, didn’t bleed, didn’t sleep. That he struck deals in shadows, and those who betrayed him were never found again. Or if they were, it was in pieces.

He leans in closer, his hot breath fanning my face as he looked down at me. "I think you are mistaken about something, little one. You belong to me. You were mine from the moment you clung to me desperately begging for help. But you weren't saved by some hero, a knight in shining armor who would do your bidding and just accept it when you tell him no. No darling, I'm the devil and you are mine.” With this his lips crashed down against mine.

Danger bell rang inside her head. World War III. Shit. ******

I heard the shower running and made my way there. “Can you believe that bastard?!” I almost shouted. Cara let out a scream as I barged in. I ignored her and sat on the toilet lid. “Could you at least knock?! What if I was shaving?” “Sorry. Back to my problem.” I said dismissively, and she poked her head out of the shower to look at me. “I talked to the Devil.” “What Devil?” “That Devil, Damiano.” “Ah. Why? Miss him?” She winked, but I only scowled.

The young man seems to have come back to his senses because his expression changed. " Brian please wake up, please I am sorry I am very sorry I didn't know what I was doing. Please..." I blocked out his words from reaching my ears but I couldn't stop myself from doing the only thing my Dad hates. I healed his brother! Dad would be very pissed with me. But grandpa and uncle Jesus would be greatly pleased with me. Sometimes I use to wonder if this man called Lucifer is really my dad. He is very wicked! I am really the opposite of him Except for the stunningly dangerous never aging face that we shared