Devil May Cry Dante Novels & Stories

Marcini’s tan bled to ash, Giovanni’s glass slipped and shattered, Dante’s hand went for the gun under his jacket—then froze when Matteo stepped out from behind me, his hands already on his gun. I smiled the smile that made grown men piss themselves. Marcini recovered first. “Enzo… Cristo santo…” I closed the distance, pulled him into a hug that looked brotherly and felt like a threat at the same time. Over his shoulder I whispered, “Surprised to see me, brother? Sono tornado, Marcini. Non si uccide il Diavolo. Il Diavolo non resta morto.” Translation: I’m back, Marcini. You can’t kill the devil. The devil doesn’t stay dead.

he whispered, voice low, dark, teasing. Her fingers slid over his chest, tracing the ridges of muscle as she closed the last inch between them, lips brushing his. “If I can’t kill the devil…” she murmured, voice trembling with fire, “then when I take my revenge… you’ll wish for anything but death.” Her eyes locked on his in a promise. “I will make you taste tears of blood, dear devil.”

I saw Lisa move into the kitchen from the corner of my eye. “Uh, hello.” “I’m Matteo, Lorenzo’s brother.” Yeah, I remember, Lorenzo. I like the devil better. I nodded. Lisa came back and went to drop something on the table. “Since you’re done, I’ll just go,” I told her, turning around. “No, you should join us,” Matteo stated as he took his seat. “Uh…I can’t…I…” “Okay, I’m insisting.” That was when the devil came descended the stairs. He barely made a sound yet we all felt his presence. He was dressed in his usual all-black fashion. He would have looked relaxed if he would be sensible enough to unclench his jaw.

Nico sat at its altar, a god never sated. His assistant, shirtless, sweat beaded on his chest, crawled forward, offered a chilled glass of liquor and a damp towel. Nico grabbed the glass, licked the rim, slowly, tongue flicked the edge, then downed it in one gulp. “Fucking Dante,” he muttered, wiped his mouth with his hand, tossed the glass aside. “Walks in like he’s above it, like he’s never fucked anyone raw.” He tilted his head back, laughed, hoarse, feral.

It's an illustration of an angel, wearing a white dress and white wings at her back. And the demon who's hugging her waist, wearing a black outfit and a black wings on his back. She smiled sweetly as she saw the character's name. Devier, is the demon. Santia, is the angel. No one will notice that she used their surnames for the book. De Viergo. Santiago. She used six letters from each surnames, and she's happy that the names are really nice. "Miss Khione, sir Dante is calling you to his office." He looked to the front when he saw the secretary of the owner of the company.

What started as a job, a duty to make sure she felt our side was her only real choice, became an obsession. Our plan had been put in motion years before, creating a rock band to travel the world bringing in kids her age from everywhere knowing one day she would show up. Devil’s Night is now the most popular band in the world with teens and young adults. While simultaneously being the most hated band in the world with their parents. We have fans everywhere just dying for a chance to spend a few moments with us and I, Damien Raines, am the frontman.

I move toward the door to open it, but Dario stops me. “Please, he isn’t really like this. Let’s go back.” He says, trying to defend whatever Dante was doing on the other side of the door, but all I do is push his hand aside and open the door. I wish I had listened to Dario and turned back. Then I wouldn’t feel as broken-hearted as I did when my eyes settled on them in the room together. Dante had Carmella on her knees, and he had rolled up her hair around his fist as he fucked her from behind. Her eyes were closed as she moaned out in ecstasy. So was Dante’s as he thrusts into her hard.

He asked, seethed. The woman nodded with difficulty, she tried to open her mouth but except for air, nothing came. The devil smirked at me, "This is what happens Ella when someone hurts me deeply," He said staring into my eyes and then inserted his hand inside her pu**y, as she opened her eyes wide startled by his actions. She shouted in pain and fear but it was too late as the devil pulled her womb out of her body with cruelty. BOOM

I swallowed hard and looked away, meeting the woman's intense stare. She had the same eye color as Raphael, her curls hugging her perfect face. She is more beautiful than the last time I saw her. She wore zero makeup, her full lips were glossy, high defined jaw and cheekbones, long lashes and thick shaped eyebrows. Her skin was honey toned and looked soft and clear. Too bad I don't like her. "Slept well" Dante's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I faced him, smiled and nodded. He crossed his arms. He wore black jeans and white T-shirt with his hair brushed back.

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.