Painted Devils Novels & Stories

The clubhouse was booming with some good Rock ‘n’ Roll music. His statue was slim, with numerous tattoos on his arms, chest, and back. He had tinted green hair that stood upright at exactly the middle of his hair. His lower eyes were lined darkly with 'Kajal'. He looked extremely tough as his jawline was set straight. A stripper passed by him and he unabashedly spanked her ass. She gave him the middle finger and went about her duties.

His chest was broad, sculpted, covered in a pattern of dark tattoos I had never seen before, tribal markings that seemed to move in the moonlight. And on his left pec, over his heart, was a scar. A long, jagged scar that looked like it had been made by claws. I stared at it. He caught me looking. "Like what you see?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep. I looked away, my face burning. "I was thirsty." "There's water in your room." "I needed to move. I couldn't sleep." "Nightmares?" he asked, stepping into the kitchen. His bare feet crunched on the broken glass. He didn't flinch. "Welcome to my world."

Wolves collided with the shadows of those wings, thrown across the room as blood and instant death erupted. Vivica froze, eyes wide, her chest rising as she watched the devil himself descend upon them. The dark blue aura surrounding him pressed against her burning skin, sending a thrill along her heated skin, and desire, through her. All the rumors about him turned out to be true. He was the Devil. The real Devil. Finn stepped forward deliberately, each movement slow, lethal, deliberate. He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.

His voice drops into a dark, lethal tone that carries to every single corner of the silent chapel. "You know what they say, Pierre… the devil always comes to collect..."

“And if they interpret it as mockery?” “Then they misunderstand culture.” The festival proceeded. Children ran along the shoreline. Musicians played. Merchants sold spiced wine and woven cloth. Dominion observers remained anchored. Watching laughter. Watching normalcy. Watching a kingdom that refused to shrink. On the seventh day, The small craft withdrew. Not dramatically. Not hurriedly. They simply rowed back to the larger ships. Formation shifted. Distance widened slightly. Not retreat. Recalibration. Dominic exhaled slowly. “They expected cracks.”

He wasted no time in expressing his fury, his voice a thunderous growl. "Do any of you have any idea what you've brought upon us? Do you have any idea how much business alliances and trusted allies you al have cost me?" The room was paralyzed by his wrath, and none of us dared to meet his eyes. The tension was suffocating, and the fear that had gripped us was almost tangible. The man that stod before me looked nothing like the man I desperately used to crave. This one felt like the real devil, the same one the FBI painted a picture of to me. He didn’t even spare me a glance but i could rarely get the words out of my mouth.

PEBBLES' POV Sardines and eggs. That was what the devil's kiss tasted like. His lavishly applied aftershave plagued my nostrils with its putrid, citrusy scent. With his tongue still embedded down my throat, he used his hands to grope my breasts, squeezing and pinching at my bosoms. His dent in his pants pressed painfully against my jeans covered thighs. I thrashed around as a sign of protest to his vulgar behaviour. He let out a deep and malignant chuckle against my lips. “You taste so good. I wonder if you will feel as sweet as you taste?” He withdrew his tongue as he held eye contact. His black pupils swirled in the dim lighting of the small closet. I saw the endless depths of evil and dar

~✴~ The DEVIL'S Heart ``````````````````` PERORATION : I love you and it is the only thing I believe in - The Devil ` ` `

It was just a way for him to have control and power over me. But I’m the one with the power here. To get my revenge, I would do anything, I would give anything, and right now, I was selling my soul to the devil. But in this story, there are two devils. One doesn’t just know it yet.

It was a lovely place and had always been my favorite. "Oh, oh," Alessa's voice brought me back to reality. "Look who's coming over there." We looked through the window; three cars were parking. One was a red Ferrari, another a black Audi, and the last one a gray Homer. Kanael stepped out of the Ferrari, Basael from the black Audi, and, obviously, Afael from the Homer. Great.