Novel Full Chapter 1916: Like a Demon
Chapter 1916: Like a Demon
Villain Ch 1916. Like a Demon
He felt it.
His stomach tightened, every muscle coiled like wire, like a drawn bow ready to snap. His back arched slightly into each roll, breath hitching with every new body that used him like a throne.
And yet—
He smiled.
Even panting. Even sweat-slicked and half-bruised from kisses and teeth. Allen smiled.
Because they hadn’t won yet.
Because he was letting them think they were breaking him—just long enough to show them what happened when a devil got serious.
Someone gripped his shoulder hard—Shea, probably—and gasped his name loud enough to echo. Her body clenched down around him, squeezing hard, making his vision flash white even behind the blindfold. He grabbed her hips and thrust up—once. Deep.
She screamed. Bit into his neck. Collapsed against his chest.
He came again.
Hard.
He felt the rush take him. Full. Heavy. A pulse of heat that rocked through his core and made his head tip back with a raw sound that wasn’t elegant or composed—it was his. Guttural. Spent. Earned.
His whole body shook.
But he didn’t collapse.
No.
He stayed upright.
Hands twitching. Chest heaving. Mouth parted just slightly.
And then he laughed.
Low. Rough. Dangerous.
“You thought that was it?”
The girls froze.
Allen reached up—finally—and yanked the blindfold off.
His eyes were lit. Glowing with something wicked and golden. Sweat dripped from his brow. His lips were red, kiss-bruised. His hair stuck to his temples. And still—he looked like the man holding all the cards.
“You think I’m done?” he asked, voice rough silk. “You forget who I am?”
No one answered.
So he leaned forward.
“I’m the game,” he whispered. “And also… the game master.”
Vivian stared, flushed and breathing hard. “You came—like—three times—”
“And I’ll do it again,” he interrupted. “Because I don’t stop when I’m finished. I stop when you do.”
Silence.
Then Zoe cursed under her breath. “God, I hate you.”
“You love me,” he said.
“I do,” she snapped. “Which makes it worse.”
Jane climbed back into his lap, eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed. “Then prove it. Let’s see if the king really wants to wear his crown all night.”
Allen met her eyes. Grinned.
“I never took it off.”
And then the game
started
again.
It wasn’t even a second before her mouth crushed against his.
Teeth. Tongue. Fire.
She moved like she had something to prove, but Allen moved like he’d already proven it.
His hands caught her hips, fingers sinking into skin still warm from the chaos earlier. He didn’t guide her—he claimed her. Moved her how he wanted. Slow at first. A pulse. A grind. A roll. Then rougher. Tighter. Until she was gasping into his mouth and gripping his shoulders like he was the only thing keeping her tethered to this realm.
But Jane wasn’t alone.
They came back, one by one. Drawn like moths to heat they couldn’t resist. Clothes gone. Inhibitions shattered. The air was heavy with sweat and perfume and something headier—desire that had gone full-circle into madness.
Bella, bold as ever, straddled his thigh and rode the flex of his muscle like it was her throne. “Still cocky?”
“I’m just accurate,” Allen murmured, voice low and sandpaper-rough. “You like that.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re wet.”
She bit her lip. Didn’t deny it.
Vivian returned with a dark laugh and slid behind him, arms wrapping around his shoulders like a noose of silk and claws. Her lips brushed his ear. “Are you going to break this time?”
Allen didn’t even flinch. “I don’t break.”
He shifted beneath Jane, driving up into her so hard her words cracked into a moan. She slapped a palm against his chest, breathless, trying to keep pace, but Allen’s rhythm was relentless. Punishing. Controlled.
Zoe stood to the side, arms crossed, watching with that storm-in-her-eyes look. “He’s still smirking.”
“He always smirks,” Alice said, leaning over to trail her fingers down his neck. “That’s the problem.”
Then Larissa pulled the blindfold back up—knotting it hard.
Allen didn’t stop her.
Didn’t need to see. He already knew where they were, what they wanted, what they’d do. His senses were sharper than sight now. He knew the way their bodies moved by the air they disturbed. The weight of their breath. The burn of their skin.
He heard the soft thud of a body climbing into his lap again. Jane had just been lifted off him—he didn’t even know who took her place until the slick, teasing heat of a new body settled over him.
She was trembling, breath caught. Not nervous. Not shy. Wrecked already.
“Guess,” came the whisper.
Allen’s hands traced up thighs. Over hips. Around her waist.
Then he smirked.
“Alice.”
She whimpered.
“Your heart beats too fast,” he said, dragging her down. “You touch like you’re trying to remember how this feels forever.”
She gasped—sharp, high, utterly exposed—and he drove up into her like a wave crashing through her balance.
She wasn’t ready.
She never was.
That was the fun of it.
He took her fast. One hand on her lower back, the other curling behind her neck as if to hold her together while he broke her apart. Her fingers tangled in his hair, breath hitching as he moved under her—hard and steady, every inch of him dragging sensation out of her like he was playing an instrument only he knew how to tune.
And when she came? It wasn’t loud. It was tight. Controlled. A soft cry against his mouth as if she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction—yet already had.
Another body.
Another girl.
Another ride.
Again.
And again.
And Allen—blinded, restrained, overstimulated—grinned like a demon.
Until—
They slipped the blindfold off.
And the room fell silent.
There he was.
Not just Allen.
But the part of him they didn’t talk about. The side buried beneath the smirks and sweet threats and dirty one-liners. The thing behind the eyes.
That gaze was different now.
Not playful. Not cocky.
Predatory.
Every girl froze for half a second. Breath caught. Pulse shifted. Their bodies remembered that look even if their minds tried to flirt with it.
That wasn’t just the man they loved.
That was the beast they’d unleashed.
Eyes sharp. Jaw clenched. Every muscle carved from tension.
He didn’t ask who was next.
He reached out.
Grabbed the nearest waist.
Pulled her down.
And whispered, low and dark, “My turn.”
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