A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 111 – 120

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 111 – 120

His gaze locked onto mine, sharp as a blade. “You think you can fight me forever?”

“I don’t have to win. I just have to make sure you never get what you want from me.”

He laughed, a dark, chilling sound. “You’re remarkably naive, Selene. But fine. Keep rebelling. Keep spitting venom at me.

It changes nothing.” He leaned down, his face close enough that I could feel his breath. “Because in the end, I always get what I want.”

I held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Not from me. Whatever you think you’ll get, you’re wrong.”

“Oh?” His eyes glittered with something wicked, a promise of punishment. “I wonder how long you can keep that up.”

“As long as it takes,” I replied, my voice steady. “You think you’ve broken me, but you haven’t. Not even close.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes tracing every line of defiance on my face.

Lucifer’s eyes glimmered with a dangerous warmth as he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. I tried to back away, but the edge of the bed caught me, trapping me in place as his hands found their way around my waist.

The touch was almost gentle—almost—but I could feel the power in his grip, the way he held me like he’d never let go.

“What… what do you think you’re doing?” I managed, my voice stronger than I felt inside. My heart was racing, my thoughts scattered as he looked down at me, his face only inches away.

There was something in his expression, a softness that threw me off, left me uncertain of what he was thinking.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, almost tenderly, as if he were genuinely concerned. The question startled me, threw me completely off-balance.

Isn’t that a question someone should get immediately stepping in? Why is he so dumb? Why does he always act like two different people? Wasn’t he the same person that stole my happiness?

Yet here he was, looking down at me, his voice so gentle that it stirred something unsettling within me. I hated it. Hated that I couldn’t brush away the feeling, hated that he had any effect on me at all. And yet, here I was, frozen, every nerve in my body on high alert.

“Let go of me,” I whispered, my voice wavering despite myself.

But he ignored me, one of his hands moving up to press softly against my lips. “Shhh.” The simple sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I swallowed hard, fighting back against the way his touch made me feel. How dare my body betray me like this?

“I missed this,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper as he traced his thumb along my jawline, his eyes following the movement with a look I couldn’t quite decipher. “You… your lips…” His gaze met mine, intense and unwavering, and I found myself at a loss, fighting against the heat that rose in my cheeks.

My throat tightened. “What do you think you’re doing?” I repeated, struggling to sound steady, determined to keep a defiant tone.

He leaned closer, his face so close now that I could feel his breath on my skin. “Whatever I want,” he replied softly, his voice a dark promise. And then, with the slightest tilt of his head, his lips brushed against mine.

The world seemed to narrow down to that single touch. His kiss was soft, a mere whisper at first, as if testing the boundaries.

But when I didn’t pull away—when I found myself helplessly frozen by the intensity in his eyes, by the way his mouth moved against mine—he deepened the kiss, his hands tightening around me, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

My mind screamed to push him away, to remind myself of everything he’d done. But my body… my body betrayed me, responding to the warmth of his lips, to the way his fingers threaded through my hair.

His kiss grew more intense, demanding, and I found myself yielding, lost in a haze of emotions I couldn’t quite define.

His touch was fire and ice all at once, a heady combination that left me breathless, struggling to catch up to the rapid beat of my heart.

His hand trailed down my back, pulling me closer, until I could feel every inch of him pressed against me.

And despite everything, I melted, my body molding to his as if it had always belonged there. It was maddening, the way he could make me feel so weak, so utterly defenseless.

I hated him for it. Hated the way he took over my senses, leaving me vulnerable, raw.

And yet, when his hands tightened around my waist, pressing me closer, I didn’t push him away. I couldn’t.

But as the kiss deepened, as his lips claimed mine with a possessiveness that both thrilled and terrified me, I felt a surge of anger rise up, breaking through the fog he’d cast over me.

I wasn’t some plaything for him to manipulate. I wasn’t his.

With a sudden burst of defiance, I bit down on his lower lip, hard enough to make him pull back with a hiss.

A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL : CHAPTER 111 – 120

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