Devil In Suit Novels & Stories

' 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂 𝒖𝒈𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

But somehow, I always pictured a balding old man with a pot belly caused by the cheap whiskey he drowns himself in every night. But I couldn’t be more wrong. The devil isn’t horned or hideous. He’s tall, sculpted, and terrifyingly beautiful. Power clings to him like a second skin beneath the flawless cut of his suit. His face is sharp, symmetrical and too perfect to belong to someone mortal, too perfect for the blood he spills, too perfect for the cruelty he yields, and his icy blue eyes can bring even the bravest man to his knees. A cold prickling sensation erupts over my entire body like a thousand tiny needles stabbing my skin

I was too caught up in my thoughts of what might have happened to my sister when I heard a voice, deep and baritone, almost like they had a speaker buried in their throat. "Who the fuck are you?" The frame dropped to the floor and shattered. I turned around only to crash into a firm shirt. I stumbled backwards, clenching the edge of the desk behind me. The wall was, in fact, a man well over six feet tall with broad shoulders, wearing a dark suit and crisp white shirt underneath. I had to crane my neck and throw my head back to see who it was. And when I did, my heart dropped. It was the Devil himself, in a suit. His hair fell to the side of his head in a stylish sweep, the color as dark as h

Her reaction was immediate. Her eyes widened in terror as she stared at the image. Slowly, shakily, she lifted her hand and pointed at it. “T-th-is… h-he… i-is a d-dev-il,” she stuttered. “B-b-ad… m-man.” A chill crawled down my spine. “Yes,” I nodded firmly. “He is a bad man. Have you ever seen him with your daughter?” Tears streamed down her cheeks as she looked around the room, panic flooding her face.

Not close enough to touch—but close enough that I felt his presence everywhere. “You shouldn’t trust me,” he said. My breath hitched. “Not me. Not anyone,” he continued evenly. “Especially not men who make things easy.” I swallowed. “Then why help me at all?” "That's not your place to know. Besides, the devil you know, is always safer than the angel you don’t.” he said calmly. “What does that mean?” I whispered. A slow, dangerous smile tugged at his lips. “It means,” he said, stepping back, “that not all kindness is free.”

he murmured against her lips, his fingers brushing the slick evidence of her arousal. Tessa’s cheeks burned, shame and desire battling within her. What was wrong with her? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. All she knew was that she wanted him—wanted him to ruin her, to make her forget every ounce of control she thought she had. Her plan was simple—seduce the devil. But as his lips trailed down her neck, his teeth grazing her sensitive skin, a dark realization crept in. The devil was already in control. As his lips moved against hers, his hand slid lower, teasing the sensitive skin between her thighs. A single tap against her clit sent a violent shudder through her, her breath hitching as a j

’ Inner Devil 2: ‘He’s the fantasy starter pack: filthy mouth, perfect abs, loyal heart, and the kind of possessiveness that makes you feel safe and scandalous all at once. Inner Devil 1: ‘His mouth isn’t even that filthy. It’s… poetic.’ Inner Devil 2: ‘Okay. Poetic filthy, then.’

Was this his form of punishment? The door opened, and the wicked devil who had shattered her young heart strode in, dressed in a black suit that emphasized the color of his eyes. Beautiful demon... Each step he took sucked the air out of the room, and as she watched, transfixed and broken, he pulled out a seat and unbuttoned his suit, making himself comfortable. "I hope you slept well, because you have a long day ahead of you." His voice was rougher and sterner, carrying no compassion for her tears, or the pain in her heart.

His calm nature was mocking, seeing as I was drowning in dread. "Will my mother be present?" I was extremely hopeful for a positive response, I am not ready to face him alone, he needs someone else to distribute his attention to. "Yes, she will be present." I cheered inwardly, but the feeling of triumph was very short- lived. When Varto opened the door to the Devil's vehicle, I was expecting him and my mother to come into view, but much to my dismay and dread; he was alone, with not even his trusted righthand with him in the back. His eyes were like a magnet, they drew me in and somehow always locked eyes with him the second he is present. He looked unreal, so unbelievably charming in that s

He tried to run away from the feelings he has for her and yet here he is still smitten, still head over heels in love with a dead girl. Devon has just sold his soul to the devil.