Authors: Bonnie Bliss
THE DEVIL AND THE DIAMOND #1
Copyright © 2014 Bonnie Bliss
Bonnie Bliss asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed within are the invention of the author’s imagination. Any similarities are purely coincidental. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording, without prior written permission from Irish Wolf Publishing or the author.
Content Advisory: the below contains graphic material of a sexual nature, adult situations, sexual reference, explicit sexual description, and depiction of alternative lifestyles.
Copyright © 2014 Bonnie Bliss
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Cover Design by LMK Graphics
Formatting by Mr Bliss
Edited By Kasi Alexander
Irish Wolf Publishing
Also by Bonnie Bliss
Chains and Chocolate
Whips and Wax
The Christmas Feast
(A Dominance Holiday Short Story)
The Holiday Series
Bondage on the 4th of July
A Slave for Christmas
(The Complete Holiday Doms Collection)
The Men of the North Series
The Viking’s Prize
The Vikings’ Conquest
The Vikings’ Claim
The Stolen warrior
The Realm Series
Stand Alone Titles
Cuff Me Santa
The Blackwood Wolves Saga
The Devil and the Diamond
he dry heat baked everything-the road he rode on and the great lines of Southern live oaks leading to a majestic vista in which the house stood. It almost felt like home. Today the devil came to town to satisfy his needs. Where prosperity ruled, deals were ripe, and the horned man grinned as he urged the horse forward.
The crop of tobacco stretched as far as the eye could see. Long gone was the cotton. It still brought money in, but tobacco brought in the gold.
Tipping his hat to mop his brow, he faced the sun and eyed it cautiously. Stroking the thick hair of his moustache, his ideas came quickly. Slaves lined the fields, gathering the leaves. Hundreds of them, their dark skin shining with sweat. Women and men alike tended the crops, dressed in loose clothing. The scent made him breathe deep.
Planters were rich men here; the number of slaves working for them showed their true wealth. The great big houses and the land all provided a beautiful painting of never-ending wealth.
Yet Jacob Cromwell, the owner of the Southern Belle Plantation, had other problems. He owed money; his addiction to gambling had created enemies. Despite his prominence as one of the Southern elite, Cromwell was a worried man.
Never mind. The devil himself had come to offer his services. A deal could be made. Cromwell’s problems could disappear overnight if he so wished─for a price.
On he went, slowly down the lane, admiring the pretty girls and boys, working hard in the heat, filling the many baskets. He stopped. One such girl, pretty and curvaceous, stooped, plucking leaves with ease, as though she had known nothing else. Her dark skin shone in a thin layer of sweat, dripping down her neck to her breasts. They hung low in the top she wore, on display. The devil licked his lips. He tapped his tongue to the roof of his mouth, and the sound made her look up. Resting on his saddle like a rich man in his armchair, he spoke in a voice so deep and sexy, her mind and body could only do as he bid.
“Girl, step closer to my horse.”
She stepped forward, her skirt dragging in the hot dust, the ties in her top swinging loose.
He sighed deep.
“Lift up your skirt, girl. Show me your body.”
Without an utterance of complaint, she lifted up her clothing, exposing her bare skin and delights.
“Who is your Master here?”
“Mr. Cromwell, Sir.”
“Has he tasted your quim?”
“Why, yes, Sir.” She showed no emotion at his enquiry.
“Did you enjoy it? Answer honestly.”
“No Sir. I do what I have to in order to be safe.”
The devil slid off his horse and circled her, taking in her beauty, her curves and her pretty face.
“What’s your name, girl?”
“Climb upon my horse, Ettie.”
“I have to tend the leaves, Sir.” She pulled a face, letting him see she hated her work.
“Well, now you are to tend to me.”
Before she could say another word, the devil gripped her waist and lifted her high on his horse’s back. In another move, as swift as the breeze caressing them, he slipped behind her. Breathing her in, his body reacted to her. Stiffening between his thighs, he pressed into her buttocks.
“What is it, Ettie?” His hand slipped to her shoulder, pushing the cloth down to expose her soft skin. Down he went, kissing her neck as his hand reached inside the shirt, squeezing her full, plump breast. Her head came back, pressing into him.
“Make me yours, Sir.”
“I intend to,” he whispered in her ear, “as soon as my business is done here. I will show you things your body will never forget. You will desire me in every way until the day you die.”
“I can smell you. You are dripping with sweet honey from between your thighs.”
“It is your honey, Master.”
“Indeed it is.” He reached down, slipping his hand beneath her skirt, and dipped his fingers in her, sliding deep. She sighed as he fingered her sweet pussy. Her body arched, her spine blended against his chest as if it were meant to. He slipped his finger out and put it to his lips.
“Mmmm, you taste so sweet, Ettie. Where is the planter?”
“In his house, Sir.”
The devil could feel her emptiness, her need for him inside her.
“Soon, Ettie, you and I will fuck.”
“I want it so bad, Master.”
“I know. Now you sit here looking pretty while I lead you to the house.”
Kissing her neck once more, he squeezed her breast hard, pinching the nipple, making sweet Ettie squeal. He climbed down and took the rein, leading her to the house.
Before the great building, huge lawns spread out. To the sides, more slaves worked small areas, tending crops for the house and its rich inhabitants.
A smartly dressed young male slave appeared at the main door and quickly ran down to greet the stranger.
“Can I help you, Sir?”
“Indeed you can. Tell your Master, Mr. Cromwell, that he has a visitor.”
“Who may I say is calling, Sir?”
“Tell him a smartly dressed fellow stands at his door who wishes to offer his services, regarding his current financial and troublesome dealings.”
“And your name, Sir?”
“Why, my name is Samuel Shamden. Hurry now, boy. It’s hot out here.”
The boy returned and beckoned Shamden into the house.
“Take a cooling bath, Ettie, and wait for me to return.”
With that, the devil walked up the steps to the porch and entered the great house.
As he expected, there was quality and extravagance, not bad for a man in severe distress. The floors were oak, the walls, too, lined with varnished oak. The furniture, the best around. Cromwell enjoyed the best, even though he flirted with its very existence. The boy led him into an office, where a large desk almost filled the far end. Planted behind it sat the man himself. Sporting grey hair, a large moustache, a pock-marked nose and small eyeglasses, Cromwell looked over the rims.
“I do not know your name, Sir, but your words intrigued me. I hope Thomas repeated them correctly.”
“It is no matter if he did. I’ll lay down my words once more to you. I see before me a man of standing and reputation. I know more of you than most, though, I must admit.”
“Oh, yes. You live here, you torture the male slaves daily, you fuck a female slave, a new one each day. Your wife, whose father is the local judge, has left you because you owe money and have disgraced her.”
Cromwell began to shrink in his chair at the devil’s words.
“Leave now, Sir, before I whip your hide and make a chair from it.”
“Come, come, Jacob. Everyone who has a touch of wisdom knows bull hide is the best, no stretch marks. I have plenty.” A deep laugh filled the room. “You unfaithful beast, even your wife, in desperate need of attention sought the company of your well-hung male slaves, sometimes two at a time, sometimes three.”
“Who in God’s name are you?”
“I am the devil, the dark lord of everything cast out of the light, and I am here to present you with an offer.”
“I do not deal with the devil!”
“Devils come in many forms. Some appear as friends, some take your success and leave you poor, others take your money until you have none left and carry on taking. You owe Mason Harker six thousand dollars, half a year’s takings. Your wife takes your respect and spreads rumors, she tells her father, a more powerful man than yourself, truths and half truths so your reputation shatters to the four winds. Yet here you sit in your crumbling empire with not a penny to your name and no friends to bail you out.”
“I will not give you my soul in order to live five years longer and have no worries. I would shoot myself first.”
The devil rose from his chair, pulled a Remington revolver from inside his immaculate black coat and placed it on Cromwell’s desk.
“Then save your soul this very moment and release it to Him. I have given you the tool. Your debtors ride here at this very moment in time to demand you pay your gambling debts.” He reached inside his other coat pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment, which appeared old and weathered, rolled and tied with some kind of string.
“I will not make a deal.”
“Of course you can. You are fifty-two years young, Jacob, and have many years ahead of you. You can fuck as many of your sweet slaves as you want, beat up as many as you want. You’ll never have debts again, you will die old and happy with pink pussy on your daily diet. I will stop your dear wife’s roaming mouth, stop the obscenities she utters about you. I will have her father’s heart fail in church; he will drop stone dead and never bother you again. I will send a dust storm of ripping sand down the road to punish the men you owe and you can gamble as you wish. I will give you so much wealth you will never lose.”
“Of course I lie; it is my greatest trick. But as in all men, I have needs and you bring about an opportunity that fills my need.”
“You will trick me good and my life will be worse.”
The devil watched his host. There lay intrigue in those eyes.
“I deny nothing, except the words written on this parchment. I will abide by them to the letter and by your signature in blood.”
“What is the deal?”
The devil grinned. He placed a pouch on the desk, the finest silk, tied with a deep red ribbon.
Watching Cromwell, the old man reached out, his hands trembling as he pulled out the biggest diamond, the likes of which he could never have imagined.
“That is mine, my diamond. In return for everything I offer, I wish for you to take care of my diamond. Keep it within these walls and you will experience wealth above everything you have ever known. You will flourish in your business; you can buy new girls, one for every day of the year. Everything you touch will turn to gold. No more debt, no more enemies whispering your name.”
“Is that all?”
“Hell, no.” The devil smirked. “You have three daughters, do you not?” Cromwell nodded as the sweat formed on his desperate flesh. “I want your first born. I want to lay with her and give her my child, a pretty baby girl. I want this so my blood flows through the human race and corrupts them. I want to lay with your first born and when my child comes of age, the sweet age of eighteen, I will come and claim her and set her up in this hellish world. And I will do the same with her first born until a seventh child is born. The seventh will sit at my side and be my glorious heavenly bride, for eternity. You will be legend, Jacob, long after you are dead.”