Diavolo X Reader Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Oh. So now you investigated me?” I leaned closer to him and I felt his heart beat faster. And fuck he really smell good. I licked his neck and bit it hard enough to draw a little blood in which he whimpered. Fanculo! He fucking whimpered. I love it. Hell, I want to own him. “Fuck, Diavolo. You smell so divine. And to answer your question. Yes I did. Because from now on. You are mine. Il mio piccolo diavolo.”

I squeezed, pulling her even tighter so she could feel every thick inch of me grinding against her. I broke the kiss only to trail my mouth down her throat, sucking hard enough to leave marks. “Fuck, you taste like heaven and sin,” I growled against her skin. “I want to drop to my knees right here, push this pretty dress up, and eat you until you’re screaming my name loud enough for the whole city to hear. Would you like that, Velvet? Your cold mafia captor on his knees for you?” She moaned louder, head falling back against the wall with a soft thud. “Xavier… this is so wrong… we’re supposed to be enemies…”

The rigid, calculating CEO vanished, replaced by something entirely feral. ​He slid his hand up from my hip, his large fingers wrapping firmly around the back of my neck, tilting my head up. His thumb pressed hard against my jaw, forcing my mouth open slightly as he leaned down until his lips almost brushed mine. ​"Then let's get one thing straight," Xavier growled, his hot breath suffocating me. "This isn't me playing your savior. I am no angel. I'm the devil himself, and if I touch you tonight, don't mistake it for anything else—it’s because I’m a hot-blooded man taking exactly what he wants."

"Like you haven’t pulled me into hell already? You dragged me through the mud and made me look like a fool to the devil." "You don’t even need to go to hell," Dario countered, leaning down until we were eye to level. "Because the devil is sitting right in front of you, and you’re too blind to see it." "And I presume you’re the devil?" "No, Gianna." He held my gaze, his voice dropping into a harsh whisper. "Roman is."

He pushed it open. The room inside was cold. Damp. The smell of sweat and blood hung in the air. And there he was. Matthew Verratti. One of his men. Or at least, he had been. Now he was strung up like a piece of meat, arms stretched wide, wrists bound to chains bolted into the ceiling. His feet barely touched the ground. His shirt was torn, blood dripping from cuts on his face and chest. Lothaire stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a heavy thud.

To be Continued… SEX WITH THE DEVIL

Damn. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The intelligence reports had described Daemon as reckless, impulsive, and hopelessly flirtatious and apparently they had not exaggerated. "You're the Crimson Mistress?" His tone carried obvious interest. I tilted my head slightly. "So I've been told." Daemon laughed. "I like her already." Draven smirked. "You like everyone." "Not true." Daemon said shaking his head. "It is absolutely true." Diavolo said shortly as he poured himself another drink. "I give it ten minutes before Daemon asks for her number."

From up here, the city glowed like a wound—fires smoldering, broken glass glittering, and the cries of the desperate echoing into the dark. Behind her, Dante’s footsteps were measured, deliberate, like a predator stalking the silence. He had grown quieter in recent weeks, his rage contained but seething like a furnace beneath the surface. The attack two nights ago had proven what they both already knew: there was someone else moving pieces against them. Someone smarter, colder, and more patient than Lorenzo had ever been. Amara didn’t turn when Dante finally spoke. “They call him Il Diavolo,” Dante said, his voice like gravel. “The Devil. An old ghost. I thought he was buried years ago, but

" I asked as my heart banged in my chest as I hoped his answer wasn't the one I had in mind. "Diavolo was impenetrable because he had no weakness for me to exploit; even his niece was too out of my reach to use, so whenever I attacked him, I had no leverage, nothing to use to rein the devil. But now, I have his greatest weakness right in my palm." He smirked as he gently touched my cheek. "You've always boasted how much Lorenzo loves you, haven't you? Then let's put it to the test. Is he the piece of sh*t that I always thought he was who would dump you at the slightest inconvenience or would he sacrifice all he has for you? I don't mind either because it's a win-win situation for me." "What

“But not the devil.” I smile a little, in spite of everything. “You're not the devil, Tristan.” “You’re right, Andrea,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Maybe I’m not the devil.” He lets the words sit for a moment before adding, quieter, “Maybe I’m worse.”