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Dante's personal Hell	By : BluewolfEthan Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 2409 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Nothing mine of the Devil May Cry series. All characters and the world belongs to Capcom. No profit made out of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
...
Babbling
...
All the thanx go to my
wonderful BETAS, Tora-Katana and Nimlinven, who beta my english and my logics and flow fer me! I luv you dears,
you are fan-fucking-tastic!)))))
Italics � words that were never said but
everyone knew they were there
...
Chap 04
Prince Charming
kidnapped
Part
2. /
Little Red Riding Hood
Then there was the
Underworld. Mundus and pursuers. The
death of the Devil Prince in the Human world, the rebellion. And � it.
Lies,
ties, cries.
Humiliated, isolated, violated.
Vergil chuckled. What nice
sets of words. If only they were not about him. But in the dungeon everything
was still pitch black, his attenuate hands were chained to the wall above his
head, rough bracelets painfully cutting into his wrists. Vergil could still
feel his own blood, sliding languidly along his elbows down to his shoulders;
dripping from cuts on his chest, from the whip traces on his back. Thanks for
the darkness though. There was only one thing that could probably break Vergil
down now, and that was a mirror. Luckily, he could not see anything, only feel.
The semen has long ago
cooled down and stuck unpleasantly to his skin all over his cold naked body. He
spit out the mixture of blood and cum, but the disgusting taste did not leave
him. Everything around smelled like sex. Never-ending rape.
How long had he been here? Vergil
did not remember. He vaguely remembered that the reason he did not want to
break down here was� What was it again, though?
Oh, that stubborn face, the
spitting image of himself. What was his name again? Dorian?
No, that's the bastard that fucked him thee times ago, who poured liquid steel
on his back. What was the name of that stubborn, always happy person with
snow-white hair? Oh, Dante.
Yeah, he should find Dante.
Or, better, his brother. Yeah, first he should try to find the idiotic brother
of his, because that Dante person is the last hope. He should not trouble the
one who always supported him, not yet.
Find the idiot. And ask for
help. This was not the freaking way he pictured his death, so forget about
pride, beg for salvation, then revive, mend the pride and be the one who laughs
last. Yeah, Verge, good plan, you should stick to it.
Every cell in Vergil's body
ached. He tried pulling his ice-cold hand through the bracelet, all the torn
tendons screaming 'Stop!' to him. But he did not falter, grazing off the skin,
his body helplessly swaying on the chains, unable to reach the floor.
In what seemed like an
hour, Vergil ripped one hand through the cuff. Immediately the whole weight of
his body pulled his shoulder down and dislocated all of the bones in his arm. Lips
parted in silent scream, Vergil shut his eyes tightly and stopped breathing,
wishing the pain to go away.
It didn't. Getting used to
it took another couple of hours, but then Vergil felt he could try to move. His
trembling fingers started to draw the symbols with blood, and the letters, in
hope that the person would see them. One groundless hope.
'brother,
here
brother help me
deliver me brother
help
save
brother�'
And he waited, nervous and
tired, on the verge of losing consciousness.
Later, much later, after
thousands of black liquid minutes, the answer was slowly drawn on the wall. Vergil
could have laughed in disbelief, but he was too weak to even smile.
The person on the other
side asked 'What do you need?'
Vergil's hand did not move.
"Please, come on, I have to write!" he panicked. "Not
now! Move! Please, this is my own bloody body, don't
shut off on me now!" Finally, the hand trembled and rose. Fingers
though did not move at all, frozen; the muscles were getting tired too fast and
left his arm falling down helplessly. Vergil somehow managed:
'Mato,'
The answer from his brother
never came. Even in three days, when his letters were found, when he was
re-chained and re-raped.
The only thing that was
still the same was the darkness. The sharp, ice-cold
darkness. Vergil stopped feeling his hands and legs, but his wounds he
could describe in detail: location, size, instrument; just by the feel of it.
So much
for his noble goal � to prevent war against the human kind. Well, the original idea was
brilliant in its simplicity. His brother, whom he was not supposed to let into
the Underworld, would have stayed with the humans and helped them, while Vergil
himself would have entered the Demon world to restrain demons from the other
side.
He definitely was one
pathetic failure.
Eventually, Vergil gave up
all hope. The transportation sign was his last resort. One arm he managed to
get out again, but the other broke down: it was stuck in the bracelet and got
ripped away from the body at the shoulder. Vergil would have screamed if he
still had his voice. Then there was too much pain and his body chose to cut it
off: he stopped feeling anything.
Vergil hurriedly finished
up the spell with the blood from the wound and threw himself onto the bloody
floor � and into oblivion.
Dante� and everything's
gonna be fan-fucking-tastic, dude.
Vergil regained
consciousness from the pain when he was stuck in between the worlds. The hell
fire was burning him alive.
"Oh, good,"
he thought. "Burn me. Let all the dirt be burned along with this
disgusting skin. Burn to ashes the smell of my humiliation. No matter how I end
up in the Human world, let me be purified by this. At least, I myself wanted to
tear this violated body of mine apart� So save me the trouble, the fire of
hell�"
A
hospital, Dante, Trish, Devil Never Cry, a potion to heal. And the abyss of
darkness.
...
Vergil stilled in Dante's
hands and fell to the floor, fast took the broken body in his arms and lifted
his brother's weakened form; he put Vergil on the couch, pulled away the
snow-white locks plastered to his forehead and went upstairs.
Hell, he was tired after
several hours of struggling with a crazed adult demon. Finally it was over:
Vergil would wake up tomorrow, exhausted but able to move. It pained Dante that
he had to resort to such means. He hated in advance the cold features of his
brother, his 'I can see no problem' and 'Everything is
going as it should, there is no need for your stupid enquiries' when it was
obvious Vergil would need help. Why was it so hard for him to accept that he
could also be weak sometimes? To accept help?
"But then, I myself
would never accept help from him, no matter how I want that," Dante
was preparing the bed for Vergil. "As soon as Verge realizes I am no
rival for him � our little game is over and he is over me. Oh well, I don't
want to lose this parody for a family, even if it means his never-ending hate� So
there is only one thing I can do: grow stronger to be able to follow in his
footsteps and look after him for he is a demon, too."
"But as he is
now�" Dante sighed and went to get his brother. Vergil was lying
there, seemingly relaxed, but tears of blood were rolling down his cheeks � the
tears that demons only shed in utmost desperation. Dante snapped.
'Fuck!' He kicked his desk
out of the way; it smashed into the wall, pouring papers all over the floor. 'Why
is it always like THIS? You will never tell me, right?' He shouted at his
brother. 'You will never ever tell me anything! This is absolutely your way of
doing things! You simply do not know that words please or help
exist! Why do you always have to take everything alone? Why you, fucker!..'
Dante roughly grabbed
Vergil from the couch and practically dragged him into the bedroom, then tossed
him onto the bed and threw the blanket over.
'Now you cry the Bloody
Tears, and I know that this damned potion brings up the most important
memories, but I have no fuckin' idea what you are thinking about! Aren't we
supposed to be brothers?' Dante was enraged and he was railing desperately at
Vergil. 'You never say what you want to say, you only say things that you
consider appropriate!'
He grabbed something heavy
from the shelf and almost threw that bronze chandelier at Vergil, but stopped
and flung it angrily into the mess of books and boxes.
'You never show any human
emotion, do you take pride in being a heartless beast, treating every other
living person like scum? I could have helped you thousands of times, why do you
choose to stay alone? Do you like making me unworthy and miserable? Do you get
some twisted pleasure from dragging me through the mud over and over again?' Dante
clutched his head. 'I refuse to believe you have no heart! Do you hear me,
fucker, I don't believe you are really like that! So� why?'
Dante fell to his knees and hid his face in the folds of the bed-sheet, close
to Vergil's slender fingers. 'Why?�' He fisted the
white cotton and whispered.
'You will never open up to
me, right? I worry. About you. But�You are never going
to accept me, right? You turn your back on me and I don't even have the
slightest idea where I got it wrong. I guess I misunderstood you from the very
beginning.
In the end, you never took
the hand I offered you, first when we were just kids. I don't think you would
have taken it if I offered now� or ever. Maybe you really simply hate me. Do
you hate me, Vergil?'
But Vergil was asleep, his
cheeks in crimson streaks, blood dripping on the pillow. His features were
still like the ones of an antique marble statue, thin lips pressed tight
together, eyes closed. There was no answer.
Dante sat on the floor, put
his cheek against the bed-sheet and sighed. His eyes stung, but the tears were
not there.
'Did you know, that one can
love hate, because it is the most they can get and the only other choice is
being buried into oblivion?
Verge, did you know that
the sharpest pain rips through your heart when you can not help the ones you
care for the most, because they do not want you. Did you know?
Do you know, Vergil?'
Dante sat on the floor of
the bedroom, ashamed of shouting at his brother and angry with himself for
losing control. He studied Vergil's face, every millimeter of it � the same as
his, yet a completely different person. An enigma, never to
be solved.
'I feel like shit, Verge. I
am all messed up. So� you� heal here. I need something to get all these
complications out of my head.' Dante quietly stated and got up eventually.
'You'll be okay here. This is my territory, and it means it's
safe.' He wiped Vergil's cheeks, ruining the new white shirt with blood stains.
'Whatever,' he muttered,
and left the bedroom. In the lobby of Devil Never Cry Dante picked a paper from
the floor and scribbled a note for Trish. She found it on the door to the
agency in two hours.
'Went to fuck it outa my
brain. Take care of him or I'll kill ya. D'
'Doesn't seem like a lot of
progress anymore, with all the deep-running issues,' she snorted. 'Okay, so he
will be here tomorrow blind drunk. I can still brainwash the other one, at
least this one has something to brainwash,' Trish disappeared into Devil Never
Cry, throwing the paper out angrily.
...
Dante slowly walked into
Succubus, the bar at the end of the street. Who the hell picked up the name for
it? Whatever, it did give the idea of finding a quick fast fuck, no strings
attached. It was noisy inside, the girls in shorts dancing around on catwalks,
the beat exhilarating, the guys at the bar all sitting with their backs to the
barman and practically throwing money at the dancers. The crowd at the dance
floor was either moving to the music or fucking or both.
'Hey, Sunshine,' a gloomy
Dante flopped into the seat leaning on the counter.
'Come on, Dante, not you,
too,' the young blonde barman threatened. 'I have enough trouble as it is with
this nickname. The usual, strawberry sundae?'
'Okay Justin, forget what I
said. Gimme some Jack Daniel's.'
'Wow, did something
happen?' Justin was pouring the whiskey.
'Remember, when I get drunk
I tend to brawl about my brother?'
'I thought you did not
remember anything 'bout those nights. With so little blood in
your alcohol, after all.'
'Unfortunately, I remember
every single word. So� he showed up at my doorstep.'
'I see you're still alive �
here's Jack �that's good news isn't it?'
'I don't know anymore,'
Dante looked at the glass skeptically and drank it all in one gulp.
'You are killing the good
booze, man. I suggest that you don't.'
'I definitely do not feel
like savouring the taste tonight.'
The music went down and the
audience started hooting and cheering. Even the gals were clapping their hands.
'You better have a look at
this chick,' Justin chuckled, turning towards the stage. 'They call her the
Redhead Witch. She is drop-dead gorgeous and doesn't do 'mortal men sex'.
If anyone could screw her � that would be you. Here she is�'
From behind the crimson
curtain a tall figure appeared, slender hands sliding along hips, dark blue
dress clinging to her body like the second skin, showing off the red lace of
her bra, the ties of the thong visible under the fabric. She tucked a stray
lock of her red silky hair behind her ear and her vicious full red lips smiled
a nasty smile.
'Nevan?' Dante was glad he did not spit the
whiskey back. 'What the fuck is she doing here?'
'You know this babe?'
Justin was definitely undressing her with her eyes. Well, every male creature
in the premises was doing that. The name of the bar did not seem that strange
anymore.
'Nope. Only heard of
her. Why is she here? '
'She's the new dancer,
appeared in the bar about two months ago, stark naked and horny. During the
first day she tried over ten men and never got to the actual intercourse,
saying she would not be satisfied by just them. Since then she is an
unreachable wet dream alive.'
'Sounds exactly like her. She
killed anyone?'
'No! What are you talking
about, she is just a stripper! Chill out, Dante!'
The demon on the stage was
flirting with some rich brunet who was supplying her generously with money,
when she heard the name.
'Oh,' she walked fast
across the stage on her high heels, ass swaying and breasts in alluring motion,
then jumped down, stood in front of Dante and grabbed him by the necktie,
making him lean closer to her. 'Look what we have here�'
The music died out as the
dj stuck out his head to see what was going to happen next. Dante narrowed his
eyes and turned his
head to the side. He remembered all too
well what kissing this bitch could be like.
'Long time no see, Nevan.'
'Still one handsome devil,
aren't you, sugar,' the demon's hand lay on his shoulder and slid tenderly to
his chest. 'How about we chitchat?'
'I wasn't planning to see
you so soon.'
'I got stuck in this city
after our last encounter. You did leave me there all alone, you naughty thing.'
'How could you, man?'
taunted someone from the crowd. 'Yeah, if you don't need this chick, give her
to us!'
'You are pretty popular, so
leave me be,' Dante tried to turn to the bar, but Nevan held him firmly in
place.
'Some family issues again?
Let's find someplace private, and we can discuss one talented young demon that
looks precisely like you.'
'You know something?' Dante
eyed here questionably.
'I might help you with a
little consolation,' smirked Nevan. 'I am sorry
gentlemen but this evening is over,' she was interrupted by the disappointed
noise, 'come one, give me a day off.' And she dragged Dante to the backstage,
holding him by the tie. The devil hunter could but follow.
...
The room was dark, lit up
only by the candles in old-fashioned chandeliers. There was a dressing table
with a huge mirror and a bed, predictably big and covered with embroidered
velvet.
'Your taste doesn't seem to
change, Queen of the Flooded Opera�' Dante didn't finish the sentence as he was
pushed roughly against the door.
'Oh, it has been awhile
since I had a decent meal. So would you shut up, honey, I am sure I can find
quite a few better ways to use your mouth,' Nevan's hands roamed down Dante's
chest to his stomach to tug at his shirt. Then she simply ripped the annoying
fabric apart, hungrily kissing the newly revealed skin.
The sound of cloth being
torn and the distant rolling of buttons on the floor shot through Dante like a
shock. It really had been awhile and every electric touch of the demon's moist
lips reflected throughout his body, teasing and arousing. Was she marking him
with that red lipstick of hers?
When was the last time he
had sex? Not human sex, but rough sex that was almost like
fighting for survival? Was it�
But Nevan's hands were
working the buckle on his jeans and Dante didn't want to think anymore.
'Kiss me,' he breathed out,
powerless.
'I thought you were afraid
of doing that, after the last time we met,' he surprised Nevan. True, she
wanted this demon right now, but such outbursts threatened to make sex personal
� that, she did not accept.
'I don't care,' it was too
hot in the room, Dante's body like in agony because of an illness that had no
cure. 'Kiss me, poison me, kill me� I don't want to think. I don't want to
feel. Make my pain a pleasure for me, Nevan. I want to be free, so poison me
and give me that freedom�'
'You are ill,
Dante,' Nevan straightened up and looked at the demon before her: pearls of
sweat rolling down his forehead, plastering the white locks to his hot skin;
hungry lips parted, obviously seeking sin; the torn down shirt almost fell
down, a snow-white frame for the rapidly raising chest and flat stomach with
the first red traces of her work; opened jeans, a trail of white hair
disappearing � her guideline. 'For all I care,' Nevan's voice was shaking.
She grabbed Dante by his
hair, rough and demanding, and smashed their lips together fisting his white
locks to guide him. Dante's fingers found their way to her ass quickly,
squeezed and went up, tearing the blue fabric of the dress apart, his little
revenge.
Nevan opened her mouth �
and felt like she almost got fucked. Dante was insistent, powerful and wild. His
lips bruised her, his tongue caressed hers, caressed every part of her mouth
leaving Nevan with the feeling, that it was impossible to be more revealed. But
Dante proved her wrong.
The kiss ended abruptly,
the devil hunter pushed the demon back, and the shreds of the dress slid down
Nevan's body, leaving her only in her underwear. Bewildered, she looked in his
eyes.
Dante's eyes were red, his
fangs sharp, his hand with the blue fabric trembling. Nevan
knew this feeling, when she wanted to run and hide,
the animal instinct for survival begging her to leave this place. But the other
side of her was exited. Nevan stilled herself, putting her hand on her abdomen
� there was this fire that she was afraid of � the fire she longed for. The
fabric of the red thong she wore was soaked and a drop was sliding slowly along
her inner thigh. By the smug smirk on Dante's face she knew he smelled it. And
Nevan was not going to deny it � this pure power that now stood in front of her
was driving her crazy. So crazy she could come just from looking at him.
"This madman
doesn't need my poison, more like he is going to poison me," she
smiled.
Nevan stayed still,
trembling with agitation. Dante threw the dress away and moved past the demon,
as if she was just a decoration in the room. The sharp scent of thunderstorm
and rain washed over her, a regal trail wavering after him. The devil hunter
sat leisurely on the bed, his hands put back for support and slowly opened his
legs, despite the old jeans and the red All Stars � he was the blood and flesh
of the Demon Lord, and every cell in Nevan's body was screaming that to her. His
predator smile spoke for him:
Get to work, bitch.
She quickly approached
Dante, losing her high-heeled shoes in the process, and fell to her knees. This
was not a friendly fuck anymore, Nevan thought, it was serve or die.
Her trembling fingers
pushed the zipper down, stroking Dante's length through the jeans. Hell, was he exited. Nevan nervously licked her lips and
carefully took Dante out of his confinement.
His head fell back, lips
parted in relief. 'Hurry,' he hissed, his voice husky
and low.
Nevan knew better than to
disobey, so she stroked his chest with one hand, his thigh with the other and
lapped at the dark head of his length, kissed it sensually and when she was
gifted with a throaty moan, she took him in her mouth, whole.
The velvety steel on her
tongue was hot and trembling with arousal. So Nevan closed her eyes and sucked
hard and fast, almost forgetting how to breathe, alive only by the panting and
low moaning that came from above her.
The demon was good. She
could read what he wanted and � she could give it to Dante. He was kind of
happy he met her; it spared him so much money for prostitutes and so many
worries about how not to slip. Nevan� she was like a doll that would never
break. She was a demon and had no heart, so why bother with her feelings? Just
use her, fuck her senseless and break her.
The strong fingers riled up
Nevan's hair and for a second she was afraid she was no good and he was going
to punish her. She never before felt so powerless and feminine. It was always
her, who commanded and used. But being on the receiving end only sent pleasant
shivers down her spine so far.
Dante's hand got a strong
hold on the red long locks and started a new fast rhythm, forcefully sliding
his member down the demon's throat. She moaned, wishing desperately that she
had this silky steel in her other cavities. Her long-nailed fingers slid along
her heated up body and between her thighs, the power of the devil hunter too
much for her, and she shamelessly threw the thong away. Her fingers quickly
started to caress the wet folds and one nail scraped her clitoris non-too
gently. Nevan gasped and then moaned.
'Are you pleasing yourself
there?' a calm, quiet question.
Do you know it is a
disrespect to do so in my presence? You are supposed to pleasure me, dirty
little bitch.
Dante pulled the demon back
by her hair, his member sliding from her mouth, leaving a wet trail on her
chin.
'I� just�' it was hard to
find words in this heat, and in front of the Demon Lord. He was the one, right?
'I was wishing for you, my Lord� please, forgive me�'
Nevan was thrown on the
bed, face down, and Dante's hands bent her knees, so that her burning empty
core that was now longing for him was easy for him to please.
A light touch of his
fingers and Nevan drew her long, beautiful legs further apart. His fingers slid
inside her, stretching � an unneeded act anyone hardly ever bothered with, for
she was a demon. But then � she was ready to give up all the powers she had
just to be pleased by those calloused, confident fingers. She even forgot there
was another dessert waiting for her. There was only one person that made her so
powerless.
He came to her when the
need for sex became unbearable. He was hot as fire, yet cold as ice because the
sex was like it was supposed to be � an empty way to release. He was as strong
as Dante, and in the end it was the only name she cried out unconsciously. With
him, buried deep inside her, with his hot seed covering her insides, she would
cry: 'Vergil!'
'Vergil,' panted Nevan.
Dante's fingers slipped and roughly pushed inside the demon, forcing her to cry
out in pain.
'Did he fuck you?'
I am not using the
leftovers, you slut.
'Y-yes!' Nevan cried, as a hand lay on her
shoulder, sharp nails digging into flesh, drawing small beads of blood.
'Is that so?'
You better tell me
everything, scum.
'He�' the nails slowly went
down along her spine, leaving thick lines of wounds. 'He came to me, because
there was no other decent fuck around� and he screwed me� several times. I
wished for him to come every day, but he is so proud�' Nevan was overloaded
with pleasure and pain, she was so sure Dante was the
Demon Lord himself that she broke: 'He is too proud to surrender to his carnal
desires� so he came very rarely. But with him, with him it was real! He came
for sex and got what he wanted. He was never tender; he hated what he was
doing, and he hated me, and this fire was burning me alive! I wished for it �
Ah!' Dante's fingers slid into Nevan's wet hole and massaged her inner walls.
'Keep
talking,' an intrigued whisper.
'I wished for this fire to
burn me, but then he was gone� ever since I longed for sex with a demon, like�
like him�' the moment Nevan finished mouthing the last word she knew that this
was already more than she ever had.
The hands kept her pinned
to the bed and the head was pushed past her entrance. Nevan gasped � and as
soon as her lips parted Dante bent over the demon, burying himself inside to
the hilt in one steady confident motion. The devil hunter's hot mouth breathed
into her ear:
'You are such a bitch,
after all,' not giving her time to adjust, he pulled
back until only the tip was inside and slammed all the way back into the demon
writhing beneath him in desire for his cock.
It was pure bliss. Dante's
power was drowning her, the fire Nevan so longed for
was there, as well as the pleasure and the pain. The smell of her blood and the
red stains on the messed up blanket were perfect, it sharpened her senses. The
demon fucking her was hot and � she felt it � bloodthirsty. His desire was
driving her crazy, his hate for her, lowly fuck toy, was consuming.
Then Dante withdrew
quickly, lay down on the bed, and pulled her by her hair to sit in his lap. Nevan
smiled her sultry smile and positioned his hard length at her entrance again.
'Look at me carefully,
handsome Devil,' she spoke as she was pushing down, her heat engulfing Dante
and cutting away every human bit of his soul. With the free hand she was
folding her breast beneath the red fabric. 'Look at me carefully and remember
what you can do to a woman.' Nevan threw the bra away and, freed, seated
herself fully on Dante's engorged cock.
'Move,' he ordered,
grasping her wrists and holding them with such strength it would leave bruises.
Nevan complied. She went up
and down swiftly and steadily. The hardness inside her was too much, the hands
holding her in place� showing her her place.
"What is my place
anyway? I do not fit to be used in war. I do not fit into the Demon World as
there I am only used as a cumbag. I do not fit into the Human World, as there
is nothing here to keep me satisfied. I end up killing � and then I am hunted.
I guess it is my fate to be bitch. At least, I can be used by these powerful
demons. Let's say, I will be a very expensive one," Nevan smiled a
bitter smile, but her usual consolation logic failed, leaving the void inside
her. Dante and his overwhelming power helped her forget for several minutes,
but: "Well, this doesn't work anymore� hell�"
Nevan closed her eyes,
clutched the hands that were holding her and rode Dante with abandon. She moved
faster and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh in the air; sweat
dripping down, mixing with her juices and leaving drops on the devil hunter's
strained stomach.
The demon was squeezing
him, pushing him further and further into oblivion, when Dante noticed the
despair on Nevan's face. Her features were not distorted by pure pleasure anymore, it was a well-masked desire to be killed.
"I snapped. I lost
it. I pushed her and she liked it. It's not like her, not like Nevan. Why is
she so desperate? Does she really want to die? Why, she of
all demons."
The cry the demon let out
when Dante accidentally hurt her, thrusting in too fast, told him the truth. She
did seek redemption in death.
Suddenly the blood was not
boiling in Dante's veins anymore, the power that was pulsating through him was
gone as well as the desire to dominate, to control, to humiliate. In a second
he let go of the demon, sat up and tenderly embraced her naked shuddering body,
then fell down on the pillows, her head on his shoulder.
'Stop this self-destruction
this very second, Nevan,' Dante threatened quietly. 'The fire you were seeking
is the wrong one. I will show you the real one.'
Nevan was looking in front
of her, shaken. How did this fucker know? But the hands
holding her close to his chest � though those were not the hands of the Demon
Lord anymore � they felt strong and safe. She was carefully put on the
pillows, and as Nevan glanced up, there was Dante � the man with the friendly
smile; the man strong enough to conquer the whole world and protect it. His
eyes were sky-blue, welcoming and kind. A human.
'Relax and feel,' he said
and slowly moved inside her, his hand caressing her breast, massaging it
lovingly; while the other travelled lower, a teasing light touch, until it
reached the little hub of nerves and rolled it tenderly.
It was all strange. A
strange change Nevan never witnessed before. So far everything was going the
way she planned. The sex itself was the same as with that demon� what was his name,
the name of the demon brother of Dante? Nevan forgot.
"Who could have
thought that I will be able to forget that name? But now, it seems, my world is
only Dante. So, Dante, if you read me so well, show me the fire that I should
look for. Give me my redemption."
The devil hunter's fingers
caressed the bundle of nerves, neglected before that, and she arched up, hands
lost in the bed sheets, legs holding Dante by the waist. As Nevan's body shook
and jerked in pleasure, Dante pushed inside her and lowered himself to suck on
a dark rosy nipple.
Nevan moaned: 'More�' the
slow pace maddening her and arousing the demon to no extent. Dante quickened
the pace and tweaked the slick bud above the lips that were now holding him
firmly. 'More, dammit!' Nevan shouted, and Dante
laughed, a happy wide grin on his face.
It was a rare occasion when
he was having sex neither to please himself nor to find release. This time sex
was for her � and for her only, and Dante was sincerely happy he could help.
Strangely, it made him
hard, the thought of Nevan enjoying every bit of sex with him.
The sound of his laughter
rang in the demon's ears. It sounded� happy? Everything around was warm and a
hot wet tongue was lapping at her nipple. Nevan could feel Dante's smile on her
skin. Her own body did not seem so lewd anymore. She was being cared for, and
it engulfed her completely.
The need rose, slowly but
constantly, not a sharp spark of short pleasure, but a huge wave coming from
afar. Unstoppable, unbelievable. Dante's thrusts became
erratic, he was gasping for air with every move, his lips and tongue brushing
her ear naughtily. He could smell the light sweet scent of her tousled hair,
the luring intoxicating smell of her skin slowly enveloping him. The devil
hunter was holding Nevan by her waist, his arms on her back, and it seemed to
her he was thus embracing and protecting her.
'Ah � almost� the-ah-re� ' Nevan panted and shouted: 'Dante!' overwhelmed, digging
her nails into Dante's muscled back, as she was shaken by her orgasm. The
demon's body spasmed, her inner walls constricted and sent Dante over the edge,
opening for him the highest peaks of heaven. The hot ribbons of seed covered
Nevan's insides and the devil hunter let his body fall down, the red locks on
his shoulder.
'Seek love, Nevan,' Dante
whispered into the demon's ear. 'You are not suited for the Demon World because
you can be much better. Your kingdom is not war. Your kingdom is lust and
passion. So bask in sin however you like, but do not burn yourself in vain. Do
not make it pointless, have a goal. Seek love, it is always a goal worth all
the pain, and in the end you will find your true place.'
Nevan searched nervously
for some cloth to cover herself. "Leave it to
this asshole to mess everything up."
'Chill babe,' Dante
laughed, 'you have nothing to be ashamed of, rather, would you come to my place
to dance for me? I've got some multy-zeroed bills in my pants.'
'First, take yourself out
of me, sugar, or I might tear your equipment off you,' Nevan snickered when
Dante hurried to slip out of her. 'Second, your numerous zeros do not have any
figures before them, which leaves them just a bunch of
lousy zeros.'
'Oi, that
hurt,' the devil hunter fake-pouted.
'Last, you are in my bed
none the less, so take off your jeans and shoes, you crazed animal.'
'Okay, okay, Mum,' Dante
sat up, sent the shoes flying into the corner and the jeans onto the floor.
'You
getting kinky
already? I thought we just finished. You up to act two?'
'Nope, and no role-playing,
please,' Dante smiled and fell on the bed, tired. 'This should be enough for
now. I do not do unnecessary sex.'
'And here I thought you two
were different.'
'Are we the same in bed?'
asked Dante. Saddened by the reminder of his brother, he frowned.
'Actually�'
'I shouldn't have come here
to have fun with you. He is there and he is in pain, I should have stayed with
him.'
'Why is he in pain?'
intrigued, Nevan turned to Dante, her head reclined upon her hand.
'Did I say that out loud?'
'You definitely did.'
'Forget it, I need to go
home,' the devil hunter jumped from the bed and despite his whole body craving
some rest, tried to put himself back into the light blue jeans.
'No shower
before you go?' Nevan rose from the bed as well and approached him
wrapped in the white bedsheet.
'Not now; will have one
when I am there,' dropped Dante across his shoulder as he was putting on the
second shoe.
'A goodbye kiss then?' she
demanded.
Dante straightened up and
leaned in to those red lips, lipstick all smeared off. As soon as flesh
connected with flesh Dante knew that was a bad idea. Electricity burned his
lips, sweet smell made his head spin and before he could do anything the world
went blank.
The body fell to her knees
and Nevan sat on the bed. Small lightnings cracked in the air around her.
'It's a good thing I met
you today, devil boy. Or, maybe I should start calling you the Devil Lord?
Honestly, I don't feel like
giving you to them. But you said so yourself: war is not my cup of tea. And
unfortunately, everybody needs to survive in their own way. For example, I sell
myself.'
She put her slender legs
across his back.
'But today was definitely a
rare day when I totally got fucked. In more ways than one.
Won't you be my own Devil Lord, sugar?'
...endo chap 04...
O_O So,
yeah, Dante got in trouble!
I know, you all V/D lovers
like me are now screaming: Dante, dude, you screwed the wrong person! But, you
know... he should always have someone to cheat on Verge with, right? Aint i the
queen of angst ^_^
and btw... guess what? Dante is
straight! Mwahahahaha As to vergil... wouldn't you
want to know)
Coming next: Dante
tortured, vergil awake and kicking ass for dante. All fluffy? Not in my story! Trish in blood, dante has a
breakdown. Wait a sec, is he getting suicidal? mwahaha
look for updates
Like it? Hate it? Don't be
silent anyway, tell me!
See ya soon,
Ethan
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Dante's personal Hell