Devil's Tea Table Novels & Stories

Gulping it down in one swift motion, he turned to face me and pierced me with his icy stare. As he filled his glass with the fiery, amber liquid, I could feel my heart racing with anticipation. Heavenly Father I silently prayed, please shield me from whatever wrath is about to be unleashed. As I retreat a couple of paces, my spine connects with the shelf behind me, creating a dull thud. Anatol, however, seems unfazed by my stumble as he remains rooted, his keen gaze fixed on mine, his drink in hand, and his left hand comfortably nestled in his pocket.

he asks while nodding toward Linch, one of the Soul-Eaters, who’s currently choking on David’s cock. “Fuck no,” I say, taking a huge gulp of my lukewarm beer. “Another,” I tell the bartender, Whiskey. The huge man lifts his chin and slides me a new bottle. “You need to get over that shit, man. Nothing’s better than the sweet feel of wet, tight pussy,” Devil grins, wiggling his eyebrows.

I’m worse than that. We reach a small table set up under a billowing willow tree. There are four chairs around the table, which makes me wonder if she had planned to come across the Alpha and Albert. We sit down and I keep my hands on my lap. There are many treats around the table; a large cream filled cake, a tray of biscuits, another of small sandwiches, a teapot filled with steaming tea, and cups. Veronica pours tea for all three of us while she and Albert continue talking about the peasant, and I sip my tea and don’t touch anything else.

I said and cut the call as I went back to check my noodles, the devil is already standing by the corner drinking tea, he drinks tea a lot so I don't need anybody telling me it's his favorite. I gave him a stink eye and dished out my noodles. I left the kitchen for him since his presence turn my tummy, I went to my fortress, my room. I breathe in and out and took a few second to calm my nerves and flush out the devil from my thought, I always use the fantasy of Oliver to flush him out, works always.

I don't want to have to deal with these games that the witches keep playing. As I approach the light I see a table sitting in the middle of nothing with a teapot and two teacups set up neatly. There is a blonde woman with her back turned to me and I know immediately that she is Lilith. "Come, sit," Lilith says as she pours a cup of tea into a teacup and sets it down across from her. Slowly I step toward the table and I look at the set up curiously. "How did you do all this from within the void?" I ask.

“How about we play a game?’’ I resolved to say, a cunning smirk tugging at the edge of my lips. She scoffed. ‘‘Never have I ever.’’ I quoted, letting my smirk spread out on my lips. Devon sat up immediately on his seat, a secret smile became obvious on his lips no matter how much he tried to hide it. ‘‘I'm all in. What do you say, sexy doll?’’ He faced Evelyn. “While we await desserts.’’ I added. We were now both awaiting her response, boring holes in her pores with our fixed stares. “Is this some ‘over a table’ kind of bonding or what?’’ “Call it whatever. You are in, like it or not.’’ Devon answered, grabbing the bottle of vodka I had purposely included in the list of orders for the evenin

He said softly and Alice got up and walked towards the small table in the room. She looked around the room and took in the interior. It wasn’t as grand and large as Devon’s mansion, but the room was still wide. The windows were moderate and there was a balcony on the right side of the room. The ceiling wasn’t as high as Devon’s room, but the walls were the same color. A large sofa was situated in the middle of the room and a small table with two chairs at the side. Devon drew out a chair and gestured for Alice to take her seat. The table had various food options and her stomach growled, which Devon noticed and made her feel embarrassed..

she asked, more sharply than she’d intended. He chuckled, not offended. “Touché. But I don’t bite. Not unless provoked.” Ayra sat stiffly. There was a porcelain tea set already placed between them, all delicately painted roses and gold trim. She eyed the untouched cup. “I didn’t order tea,” she said. “I did. Thought we’d be civilized.” Boris poured a cup and offered it to her with a flourish. “It’s not drugged. Swear on my dog’s grave.” “You have a dog?” she asked, taking it but not drinking.

Five other men were sitting around the table, but they all turned to look at me. "The hell is this?" one of them growled. I cleared my throat, my grip on the silver tray tightening until my knuckles turned white. "I… I have the 1945 Macallan. For Mr.…" I trailed off. I didn't know who ordered it. The man at the head of the table—The Devil—leaned back slowly. He didn't speak. He just watched me with a predator’s focus. He swirled a glass of dark liquid in his hand, the ice clinking softly, the only sound in the silent room.

Chapter Twelve- Under The Table Sins Part six Just acknowledging that his hand was wedged between my bare thighs and the other three people at the table had not the slightest idea what was taking place under the table, was exciting /////////////////////////////////////////////////// I left my room, made a dart for the kitchen, sauntered down the empty halls with his starter secured in my hands and made it to the dinning room. I took a deep breath preparatory to stepping inside the room currently sheltering the Devil and the first pair of eyes to welcome me were my mothers. The table was an unnecessary twenty sitter, unnecessary seeing as we rarely, and I mean rarely host any guests and dine