Little Devil Hands Off Novels & Stories

Her hand shook as she turned the lock. Before shutting it, Deviana lowered her head. Her words came out in a broken murmur, almost lost beneath the rain: “Maybe they’re right… maybe I was never good enough.”

A soft lavender glow emanated from his hand, casting a warm light over Devin's still form. I clasped my hands under my chin with fingers interlocking and pressing into my knuckles, praying, ‘Goddess, please give him back to us.” -

Her hands started caressing her own hair. Felicia absentmindedly moved her hands, her left hand went to the white guy’s crotch, her right hand to his black friend’s. She remained in a trance, eyes closed and head back. As they enjoyed her body, she was clearly getting more and more turned on by fondling their growing dicks through their pants.

"You know what will happen if you won't stop doing that." His voice was barely audible as he tried to control himself, but the devil in me was up and I resumed tracing my finger down to his pelvis, down and down till my hand wrapped around his erected shaft. I heard him cuss and that was all I need to start moving my hands up and down. "Fuck, no, stop,"

'These are Demon hands. The old man's face brightened instantly. 'Yes,' he said, happily and seemingly unaware of my horror. 'That's right! You've got it. A gold star for you!' Nodding, almost to himself, he turned and surveyed the row, sweeping his arm out as if presenting the display of severed hands to me. 'Behold the spoils of the Endless War. What you see before you are the hands of every Shedim slain since the time after the Fall.'

Beautiful in a way that still hurts. ‎Black tux cut to kill. ‎Eyes scanning the room like he’s cataloguing threats. ‎And then those eyes find me. ‎Across champagne flutes and chandeliers and two years of distance. ‎They find me. ‎And the glass slips from my fingers. ‎Shatters on marble like gunfire. ‎Because the devil I prayed I’d never see again just walked straight back into my life. ‎And the woman still holding my hand—the woman who just called me the kind of girl her grandson deserves—is Olga Romanov.

He slipped his hand inside his pocket, pulling out a jewel box and I sucked in a deep breath. That son of a bitch! The least he could do was give the ring to me on his own. Then again, why would he? This is just a business deal. I can't be expecting a romantic proposal from the devil. Right. I controlled my anger and smiled as I took the box from his hand which felt heavy. "You can stay here from now or from tomorrow. That's your choice but all your things are being moved here as we speak." "Umm..what? Who asked you to touch my things?"

Here I am trying to avoid been scolded by Rico and this God forsaken man wants me to get scolded. I raised my heads up to the face of the man holding my hands. A light skin man with blonde colored hair stood in my front.he has a well built manly structure and a good looking face but Rico looks way more handsome than he is. I’m sorry” I said trying to loose my hands from his. He gripped my hand tightly while gazing at me like he was trying to figure me out. “Apology Accepted “ By the way you look beautiful he said smiling Thank you” I replied

The baby stirred, a calm, steady pulse. Aunt Dee watched quietly from a distance, understanding settling into her expression. The ancestors’ voices echoed one last time through the realm: “The devil’s greatest act of defiance is not destruction— It is devotion.” Far away, the hunters drew closer. But for the first time since the prophecy began, Malik knew exactly where he stood. And he would not move.

Chapter 20 – His Cruel Game Lucian’s hand left her head and trailed lower, his touch deceptively slow as it slid along her thigh. She flinched at the contact, her body already tense, her mind torn between anger and a heat she refused to acknowledge. “You think the devil is cruel?” His voice was smooth, almost mocking. “The devil at least bargains. I don’t.” Before she could react, his fingers found their way beneath the hem of her dress, parting her thighs with unhurried precision. His gaze locked on hers, daring her to look away as his touch brushed over her folds, slow and deliberate strokes that drew an unwilling gasp from her lips.