Devils Goddess Nudes Novels & Stories

Knowing we had some time before we reached our destination, I ask Christopher, “Who exactly is this Dark Goddess?” Christopher turns slightly to look at me and I could see that he was questioning whether he should enlighten me on who she was, but thankfully he decides to tell me. “She is not of this world, just like your Moon Goddess. She is from another realm, that feeds on the souls of the fallen. In human terms, she is like the devil, that collects the souls of those that are lost. If she is unleashed, she will bring back all those souls with her, and all the good that we know now will be lost to her and her disciples. We can’t let that happen.”

Chapter 34 Devil's Fury The door creaked open with an agonizing slowness, the sound sharp and chilling in the tense atmosphere. Veronica’s heels clicked against the marble floor as she entered, her eyes widening in shock. Before her stood the infamous Dominique Blackwood, every inch the devil his reputation promised. But what left her frozen wasn’t his imposing figure, it was what she saw beneath him. Aurora lay on the floor, half naked, her lips trembling, her eyes wide with fear as Dominique towered over her, his cold, emotionless face mere inches from hers.

The statue of the mother goddess was dressed in carefully draped and pinned silk so sheer that it hid nothing of the artist’s attention to detail, the points of nipples, the texture of hair peeking out beneath her armpits and at the v of her thighs. Thaelen knelt before her, his mouth dry, mesmerized by her beauty and the response of his body, the deep ache in the pit of his stomach making him very aware that his c-ck was hard, the heat of it against his thigh, trapped by his trousers. “Do you know what you would ask of our goddess?” A human acolyte murmured, kneeling at his side, her skin scented with perfumes, polished and pampered, and her red hair falling in a thick, pearl woven rope ove

My hands slide down her wet body, shaping the lines and dips of her hourglass figure. Kneading her round ass before slinking back up her thighs and stomach to cup her breasts. Massaging the soft mounds. I watch the droplets of water bounce off her nipples, wanting to lick them but too fascinated to move. Because a small part of me is obsessed with breasts, I know this set is real and not fake. I'm spellbound by the way they sit on her chest, the mattering of freckles on her cleavage that is only visible when one is close enough, and the perfect shape of her nipples. Just the right size for my fingers and mouth.k

Both whispering to each other about how cruel Sandra was to them. However, she only rolled her eyes at their childish actions and moved her eyes to me, "Hi, I'm Sandra, and those two knuckleheads are Drake and Casper, the black haired guy is Drake, while the pouting idiot is Casper." After she finished talking, the guys in front of us turned their heads at the same time and scoffed at her. They were acting really cute, having each other's back in a funny way. "You know Sandra if you weren't a girl, you'd be full of bruises right now. Good thing my mom raised me right." Drake rumbled while closing his eyes relishing the compliment he gave himself.

Hope whines and then we’re moving fast and our feet are finding the ground again. The devil takes a couple steps back, then slowly and carefully falls to one knee. If I were in my human form I might laugh without being able to control it, a nervous trait. The sight of this male who could probably breathe fire from his mouth and gut this forest and everything in it in minutes… Goddess if all those assholes at school could see me now. A massive, real life devil, the literal largest of life killers that ever walked the earth… kneeling before ME.

“Ethan!” But he doesn’t move. Doesn’t try. Coward. Dante leans close as I’m hauled past him, his breath warm against my ear. “Say goodbye to your prince, doll. The devil’s claimed you now.” I scream until my throat burns, until the church disappears, until the night air swallows me whole. The car reeks of leather and gunpowder. My wrists burn against the zip ties. Two men flank me, rifles across their laps. “Let me out!” I shout, kicking the door.

Weird, but insanely hot. I pulled away, oxygen rushed in filling me lungs. Her body looked so perfect, so beautiful, so unreal. Her long lashes tightly pressed, her lips parted, head tilted as she moved against my knee, her nipples still between my fingers. I pinched her again, a breathless moan left her. " You like it don't you, you love it with I touch your filthy nipples." She didn't reply, lost in the world of sin and ecstasy. I pushed my knees forward, grazing her clit as I pinched harder. " Answer me!"

He got down a second mug without answering, which I took as a yes. We ended up at the kitchen island—him on one side, me on the other—with the mugs between us and the city a quiet dark sprawl beyond the windows. He seemed completely unselfconscious about being shirtless, which I appreciated. Being self-conscious on his behalf would have required me to be self-conscious in general, and I was already spending a lot of energy not doing that. He was beautiful. Not in the way of someone who worked at it, but in the way of a structure that’s simply in correct proportion—the kind of beauty that has nothing to do with vanity and doesn’t offer itself up. Which made it harder to look away from.

They just sat there in silence, their hollow eyes watching. The demon goddess leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. She looked bored, yet there was a glint of genuine malice in her void-white eyes. She lifted a cup of that dark, red liquid and took a slow, deliberate sip. “One down,” she purred, her voice sliding over us like oil. The miniature stone creatures that had been clinging to her marble shell before, the lions and goats began to crawl toward her, climbing her legs and arms. I watched in horror as their tiny stone claws tore into her obsidian skin.