Simple Devil Makeup Male の小説・ストーリー

I made a deal with the devil….. He appears in a rush of heat and smoke, towering, obsidian-skinned, horns curling like black ivory. Wings folded against his back. Golden eyes fixed on me with predatory amusement. And between his thighs… six cocks. Six thick, ridged, barbed demonic cocks rising in a perfect fan, each one pulsing, already dripping with dark precum. He steps closer, voice like velvet over gravel. “You want it all, little starlet,” he says, not a question. “Richest actress in the world. Every role yours. Red carpets, magazine covers, awards lined up on your shelf. Billion-dollar franchises begging for your name.”

This one on his forehead cuts clean through his eyebrow, before continuing a cruel path under his eye and ending somewhere near his cheekbone. This devil’s jawline is an angular shaped thing that belongs in a geometry textbook. So carved, so prequel in its form. What is his hair? A pattern of black, so sinister in its colour, tied in two braids and left resting somewhere near his neck against skin that’s the colour of sun-baked sand.

The man smiles, pulling out a key from under and placing it on the table. Sebastian smiles at him, retrieving the key as from underneath his palm as he places fifty bucks on the counter. He turns to scrutinize the place again. It is not worth the fifty bucks. It is not worth a damn payment at all and the bull head hanging just a few inches off the top feels more like for fetish shit than a real motel. “Welcome, enjoy your stay.” The man flashes a set of decayed brown teeth. Sebastian forces a chuckle in return as he heads towards the stairs.

What made me quite surprised was his head and height. The devil in my imagination is an all-red or fiery figure with a shaved head and two small horns, and a huge and very tall man. However, this devil in front of me is not bald, but has long hair like genderuwo hair in usual. Even though he was still what I imagined, that is, he was blazing, but he was neither very tall nor very large. The devil's height and body size are roughly the same as basketball players. Reksa the devil tried to approach me one step, two steps; but that much I took a step back. There was a fear that I was holding on to and a feeling that I should not get anywhere near this one creature.

And yet he was her enemy. Doing this with an enemy was a sin. Especially when the enemy was the Devil himself. “No man has made me cry in pleasure… or satisfied me,” she whispered, brushing her fingers lightly over his hardness. Finn’s eyes darkened, his arousal sharpening further as her fingers teased the slit of his hard cock. “And since I’m already in pain, I’m not looking to add more.” She smiled playfully, pulling her fingers back, teasing, and began to turn away. “A pill is better than a man.” she added.

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..."

He stated with complete, utter seriousness. “You motherfucker! Go fuck yourself. I will leave. You just watch how. You son of a devil!” I grunted, taking his damn hard chest into my mouth and bit him hard. He groaned, pulling me back away from him. Nikolai’s hand grabbed my neck—not to tight, but enough to hold me in place. He forced me to look into his eyes and moved back, my back hitting the wall, and he pressed against me. “You’re a kinky fan?” He smiled—his eyes held that dangerous look.

Damnation never looked so good. He wore black flared pants that flirted with the floor and a vintage shirt, half unbuttoned, teasing the black eagle inked across his chest. His hair was a mess of dark tousled waves with a few strands falling near one eye, drawing attention to the storm behind it. The light scar on his lip had nothing on him other than the reminder that he'd kissed pain and made it beg for more. And the ring on his brow... it should've looked ridiculous, but on him, it was just more temptation carved in metal. I hated this man. Hated everything he stood for. But in that moment, I understood why the devil was said to be the most beautiful angel.

DOOM’S POV My shoulder still throbbed like a bastard, but I refused to let it show. I swapped my usual suits for a simple black shirt and a pair of tailored shorts, unbuttoned just enough to tease. It was warm tonight, and Sally liked casual Doom, something about seeing the devil without armor made her smile, maybe because it made her feel closer. The dining room lights were dimmed low, casting a golden warmth across the mahogany table. Candlelight flickered beside the fine china, and soft instrumental jazz hummed from the walls. I had told the staff to stay far away, tonight was ours.

"Forget the nonsense Salazar or anyone else has been feeding you. You're perfect the way you are and if I hear anything about you being on a diet again or trying to lose weight, heads will roll. Do you understand?" Maldito, I'm dazzled. For a moment there, the look in his eyes turned menacing and I finally caught a glimpse of the devil he hides behind that sexy body. I can totally picture him chopping a man up with a kitchen knife while smiling. That thought has moisture pooling between my legs and I squirm, trying to get some relief. Violence turns me on. He crosses the small space between us. Judging by how he's gotten in my face, I think he's finally going to take the initiative but he on