My Devilish Desires Novels & Stories

“I don’t want anyone else looking at you and feeling the way I do right now.” “Yes? And how’s that?” “Hungry, out of control, the want is making my body burn. I can’t think.” “Oh.” “Yes.” Cass slid her hand higher, moved the flimsy piece of material covering her wetness aside, and slipped her finger into the wet heat. “Come onto my lap.” “I’ll make your tux dirty.” Olivia gasped as the finger inside her became two. “You do look so damned good in that tux.” “Fuck the tux, Liv.”

If I am to describe her, she's like a very clear blank canvas and that she sucks my very being with her icy stares. She's like an easy to read book but somehow influences me in a very profound way. I don't know why, but she's an extremely interesting woman. But now, am I such a lucky duck? As a man of God, I do have some occasional thoughts of reproducing humanity with her, especially when she's dressed with body tight work outfits. But I am not some pervert that just can't control his desires, I only have these thoughts sometimes because I really admire her. Yet I still can't imagine the reason why she's doing this to me.

TAMING THE DANGEROUS CEO ALPHA KING CHECKMATE THE DEVILISH BILLIONAIRE FATED TO MARRY THE DEVIL See Yah there!

Till he was just the breathing silhouette Sebastian had seen. Sebastian knows because he had felt the same. The day of Sarah’s death, he had felt a rage higher than a tower. He lost consciousness of every sense of morality that he had even pulled his gun scaring the kids that stood just where his daughter had left. He recalled the feeling of emptiness when he held lifeless Sarah on the ground, such that he had even wished a truce with the devil. If only it worked that way. So when Sebastian laid his eyes on the man, he knew exactly how he felt. A broken father.

his brother, is here too. We could get caught. We will get caught. This is too dangerous. This is wrong. This is fucked up. Yet, my skin burns, and my pussy clenches. The danger, the allure of it all, it feels like a fire slowly consuming me. I want him. I want Devon. I want him to bend me over the kitchen counter and fuck me till I can't remember my name. "If you want something, pretty," He leans in, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. "You need to be able to articulate it." His free hand trails down my hip, lower till his fingers kiss my bare thighs.

I would shift in my seat, my face flushing, my dick getting hard. “The devil is among us, my brothers and sisters,” he boomed, his voice echoing through the church. “He is in our hearts, in our minds, in our… loins. He tempts us with filthy thoughts, with unnatural desires. He makes us weak. He makes us crave the forbidden fruit.” He clicked the remote, and the vibrations intensified, a steady, insistent pulse against my prostate. I bit my lip, a choked sound escaping my throat. A few people turned to look at me. I just smiled weakly, pretending to be moved by the spirit.

I whispered, the words coming out weaker than I wanted. He stopped behind me. His fingers brushed the back of my neck, then slid slowly down my bare shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Every time I look at you,” he murmured, voice low and rough, “I think about all the filthy things I want to do to you. How I want to bend you over and fuck you until you forget your own name. How I want to bury my face between your thighs and make you scream for me while you forget about your mother. How I want to fill you up until my cum is dripping down your legs and you’re begging me not to stop.”

The sounds she made—those small, desperate, strangled cries—dragged over Caelum’s nerves like a rough hand over exposed skin. Each one lit something in him. Not anger. Lust. The realisation hit with a vicious, uncomfortable jolt. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, the air hot and tasting of ash. His own body ached, hard and heavy in a way he had not allowed himself to feel in… years, maybe. Decades. It was obscene, wrong, to stand there pressed into shadow, watching the Devil take this mortal girl like this and feel desire coil through him instead of disgust.

No women. “A devil with no weakness,” she murmured, the words barely louder than the crunch of the apple. Then a memory surfaced: the way he had devoured her the entire night, slow and relentless, as if her body were the only sin worth savoring. Her fingers tightened subconsciously around the book on devils she had just finished reading. Its pages had spoken of their insatiable hunger for untouched souls, pure, unchanging, untouchable. The moment a soul was altered in any way, it slipped forever from their grasp.

The moment the door closed, the house felt different — heavier, more dangerous. I spent most of the day hiding in my room, reading my secret romance books to distract myself. The stories of innocent girls being seduced by older, forbidden men only made me wetter. Was I really turning into one of those girls? By midnight I couldn’t fight it anymore. I stood in front of my mirror for a long time, heart racing. I changed into my shortest silk nightdress and, after a lot of hesitation, put on a tiny black lace thong underneath. I felt so shy and slutty doing it, but something inside me wanted to look desirable for him.