Master Devil Don't Kiss Me Novels & Stories

they also left oh god they left me with a devil alone and went off what I need to do right now while iam in my own thoughts he came near me his face is very close to me the moment he looked into my eyes my heartbeat is increasing what he is going to do but he removed a small leaf from my hair oh god I thought something else he whispered in my ear "are you expecting me to kiss you" god he is really a playboy I said "who wants your kiss" he said with a evil smirk on his lips "you may be you wants" I said "stop messing with me" he smiled and said "thanks" I asked "for what" he said "for making me realize"

In one fluid motion, he crossed the room and slammed Veronica against the wall, his hand gripping her throat with frightening force. She gasped, her hands clawing at his, but his grip was unyielding. “Never raise your voice at me,” he growled, his voice low and deadly. “You do not control me. You do not tell me what to do. I am the Devil. I am Dominique Blackwood. No one tells me what to do.” His grip tightened for a brief, terrifying moment before he released her, letting her crumble to the floor, choking and gasping for air.

I gasp. He fists my hair at the nape of my neck and yanks my head back, twisting it so I can look him in the eyes as he corrects my words, “The only one that you should be worshipping is me, and I am no God.” He leans in, biting my lower lip, drawing my blood, and licking it. He smiles down at me wickedly, and says, “I am the Devil incarnate, baby,” as he thrusts hard and deep, pretty much hitting my cervix each time. “Oh, Sir, I’m going to come!” I moan.

Before I could say a thing, he slapped me hard, sending me flying to the bed and making me hit my head hard on the bed stand. “Tell me!" He yelled again while the pain in my head multiplied a million and one times.. “Keith" I whispered helplessly again as a tear rolled out.. And then, it began happening... The memories!! They began coming in pieces and flashes with blood flowing freely from my nose and ears.. I screamed when the pain became unbearable.. All I kept seeing was a handsome devil.. I saw him push me hard and go for another woman... and I saw a blur sight of him thrust into my middle..

The Earl shrieked in wonder, "You call her a maiden! She is no maiden. She's a thief! A mercenary, unbelievable thief!" He continued barking while he walked backwards away from them, "She handed her drink to the Earl of Vetcom, said things too daring for any normal Scottish woman and stole food. You would not call such person a mai…" He found himself staggering suddenly, noticing he was just at the edge of a ditch, one he didn't notice because he was too busy shouting. While he found himself falling into it, a hand quickly gripped around his hard and tight. Gently, that same hand pulled him up, straight back to his balance. And it was the devil herself.

Disappointments washed over me as he finally let go of my arm, he turned his back to me, staring at the tiny pieces of Manhattan below. I wanted to say something because the waiting and the silence was eating me up. God, please, don't let him criticize my kissing skills, I would just die. I prayed silently and wished it would get an answer from heaven even when I know God had better things to do than probably answer my silly little prayer. What now? There was a sudden coldness in the thin silk of my dress so I encircled myself with my arms. One second, he was kissing me as if I were the only thing that mattered and the other second he was using me as a pawn in his scheme with Whitfield .

I don't know what's worse-the fear of seeing him again or the fear of what I'll feel when I do. When the door finally opens, my body betrays me again. My pulse spikes, my breath hitches, my skin prickles with heat. It's him. Dante steps inside, suit crisp, dark hair swept back, eyes gleaming like the devil himself. He doesn't even look at the mess on the rug. His gaze goes straight to me. "Good evening, doll." "Go to hell." His grin is slow, deliberate. "Still keeping me company, I see."

And in her submission, he'd found his own twisted pleasure. Zayden’s grip on the back of Hema’s head tightened as he pulled her up with force, his fingers tangled in her hair. His dark eyes burned into hers, filled with a dangerous mixture of control and obsession. He pressed his lips against hers with crushing intensity, his kiss more of a command than an act of affection. Hema stood frozen, neither reciprocating nor resisting, her body tense as his dominance swallowed her whole.

I swipe the lipstick across my mouth in one smooth stroke, meeting her eyes in the reflection of my compact mirror. "It’s like you’re.." "The devil?" I ask, snapping the mirror shut. "Maybe."

"Rules you must abide by." He pressed his hips forward, and I felt the thick, heavy, terrifyingly massive ridge of his arousal pressing directly against my core through our clothes. "Rule number one," Riven whispered, his fangs grazing the sensitive skin of my throat. "I punish my slaves if they try to run away."