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It's all too subtle, really, the way he gets lost while looking at her move around the shop, talking about her last hunt, her chest rising and falling as she gets worked up on the details and then ends up sitting on top of his desk, crossing her legs. The scars on her skin glow all pearly white and pretty, something he focuses on often-her vulnerabilty. She has, of course, proven herself to be more than capable to endure the things their job throws at them, but the constant reminder that one wrong move will rob him of her keeps him up at night.
He won't ever tell her, no, but the years have been passing them by and while he can handle a sword through his chest, she can't and he's terrified she'll bleed herself dry one of these days. The need to annihilate and destroy she claims she has comes from within, he knows, and he can't get it out of her, can't talk to her about slowing down. It would be selfish of him, of course it would, to tell her he needs her to stay alive because he doesn't know what it's like to live in a world she doesn't exist, not anymore.
"And-are you listening to me?"
He looks up at her, aware that she's waiting on an answer. She's wearing a shirt, a black mini skirt (a rare occurrence he secretly appreciates) and boots. She looks beautiful, but something else catches his attention. Shaking his head, he brings his hand to her right thigh, tracing a scar he's never seen before.
"This one is new."
"Huh?" she looks down. "Oh, right...I can't even remember where I got it," she says, unsurprised.
Heart sinking at that confession, he leans back on his chair and sighs, propping his feet up on the desk right next to where she's sitting.
"You okay?" she asks, a teasing streak lurking underneath her tone.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he shrugs.
Smirking, she stands up and goes around his chair, her fingers running through his hair messing up his silver locks. "It's cute that you worry," she says, and he follows her with his eyes and when she ends up in front of him, he smiles, uncrosses his arms and waits as she gives him a small kiss. A quick, sweet peck on the lips.
It's not an uncommon thing between them anymore.
Sneaky, making out sessions after a mission or during lazy days have turned into a habit between them. It started two weeks ago, four months after dealing with all that crap in Fortuna. They were out on a job, Trish was investigating somewhere else and he and Lady were left alone to deal with the demons. Nothing that they hadn't seen before, and yet when they stood face to face, Dante brought a hand up to her face to wipe off the blood on her cheek. She leaned into his touch, looked into his eyes and a kiss happened. Long and hard, he pulled her close, his right arm wrapped around her body. They pulled apart, she turned her face, cheeks red and warm, and he couldn't stop smiling when he suggested making their way back to Trish and going home.
Since then it's been a little secret between them, a kiss here and there, acting like two teenagers, wanting each other's taste.
"So you think I'm cute, huh?"
She scoffs. "That's not really what I said."
He makes a face, shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure it is."
"No, it isn't-" she doesn't get to finish her sentence, yelps in surprise as Dante grabs her by the waist and pulls her to his lap, his feet now properly on the floor so he can find some grounding and Lady can stradle him. Her skirt rises up a little and his right hand snakes up to the back of her neck, left one stays on her waist and he gets her into another kiss, this one deeper, better, full of need. His tongue on hers, each sensation sending a chill down his spine.
He finds himself lost, too far gone into it and he jerks his hips up out of instinct. She moans into his mouth, presses herself down on him, and he feels relief at the lack of rejection. Lady tips back to breathe, lips a little swollen, eyes on his. He pulls a strand of her hair away from her face, she feels how worked up he is right beneath her, and she wonders if he has any idea what he's doing to her as well. But this is uncharted territory between them, and she can't help how fast her heart is beating.
Running her hands up and down his chest, she takes her time, rolls her hips experimentally, watches as he swallows and closes his eyes for a second. He's all hard and handsome and invinting and she lets him do as he pleases when his lips find her neck, biting and sucking, leaving a mark, his mark, the brief pain of his teeth sinking into her flesh only to be soothed soon after drives her mad to the point she knows she's not coming back from this. It's forever. She knows, yes, she knows she will go first, but it doesn't matter, if she admits her love then it's forever.
Suddenly, they stop, look at each other as if the world exists only for them. He slides his hand down her neck, thumb swiping across her skin in a gentle caress. The unspoken permission he's asking for being granted with another kiss, her kiss, sweet and honey-like, and he unbuttons her shirt, patiently, alternating between looking at her and the task at hand. Gently he pulls the sleeves down, discarding the piece of clothing and letting it rest somewhere on the floor. Then she's almost exposed, breasts covered by a black lace bra that he wastes no time unclasping and taking it off of her. He smiles at her, bares his teeth, and she responds by moving her hips again, making him groan.
It's a rough kiss this time, he barely gives her time to breathe before cupping her breasts with his hands and dragging his lips all the way down to the valley between her breasts, leaving a trail of light kisses that make her sigh in antecipation. He teases her first, of course, uses his mouth, alternates between one breast and the other, runs his tongue around her nipple, sucks on it, delights himself when she moans and squirms, begging for a little more.
She can't wait anymore, reaches down and unbuckles his belt with ease, unzips his pants, pulls his cock out through the slit of his boxers; he's so big she can barely wrap her hand around it and the bastard knows this, but he grunts when she starts stroking him slowly, a rush of adrenaline going through her veins, her head all foggy, her focus on this, on him.
Leaning back, he stops all he's doing to observe her, allows himself this moment of selfishness just to watch the way she moves her hand up and down his cock, the way her chest is flush and glistening with saliva, how she's trying to stay in control of the situation, how she's enjoyig herself-she's gorgeous, she's so damn gorgeous she lights up the room and he wants to give her everything, dissolve into her until he's nothing but a shivering mess of a man.
He reaches under her skirt, touches her through the fabric of her panties, smirking when she throws her head back, hand still working on his cock even if the rhythm is now faultering. There's a lot he wants to say, so many things to tell her, but it's in the way she pleads, he guesses, it's in the way she says his name that makes his heart beat faster as if he's never done this before. But he plays it cool, nods, and she holds his cock by the base while lifting her hips, her skirt now all around her waist and he helps her by pulling her panties to the side.
She sits down on his cock slowly, every inch of him stretching her up, mouth open as she forgets how to breathe. When he's all the way in, she moans at the same time he groans, leaning forward until her forehead is on his. He's staring right into her eyes, hands on her hips to keep her steady.
"You okay?" he asks, voice strained.
She nods, smiling. "Yeah, just...just wait."
He can't say anything else, she's tight and warm and perfect and his breathing is already ragged and so many excuses can be made here, but the truth is that he's wanted her since forever and he can barely contain himself. But even if he can't find the power of speech right now, he kisses her once more, tenderness and need mixed into one, his lips soon meeting her neck again, small kisses here and there as she closes her eyes and starts moving her hips, setting the pace, getting used to him.
Her hands placed neatly on his shoulders for some support, she finds her rhythm, steady and at ease, she rides him carefully, and he lets her take the lead, his hands grabbing her ass and giving it a squeeze, helping her move, and she starts picking up the pace, going faster and faster until she's jumping up and down on his cock, lifting her body just enough for him to almost slip out of her and then sitting down on him again, repeating the motion over and over until she's screaming and he's thrusting up, unable to help himself.
She slows down wanting to make this last and they go like this for a while until he decides to touch her, knowing she's just as close as he is. He brings a hand to her pussy, his thumb pressing against her clit first, rubbing it, and her eyes are closed, his name on her lips and he feels her clenching all around him, so tight, so tight and gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous, the best thing that's ever happened to him and he touches her and fucks her and she picks up the pace again, rides him and comes all shaky and pretty, uttering his name. He follows soon after, she's so tight around him, he's so close, he can't hold back any longer, no, she's his, she's all his.
"...god," he says, not even thinking about the words leaving his mouth. "Fuck," and he fills her up, cock pulsating and throbbing inside of her, shooting his load, his fingers digging into her flesh, marking her.
He stares into her eyes, they're both out of breath, and they stay still for a moment until she lifts her hips and he pulls out of her, but they know better than to try and stand up. She slumps against him instead, her chest on his, her head resting on his shoulder and he wraps both his arms around her frame, keeping her there with him.
She's the one who breaks the comforting quietness by chuckling.
"What?" he asks, smiling.
She shakes her head, drawing back to take a good look at him. "'Oh God'?" she teases, breathing returning to normal. He scoffs, but she carries on. "No, no, it's sweet. I'm glad I helped you find religion."
And he chuckles with her, falling into her bliss. "You know, you really shouldn't be teasing me," he warns.
"Oh, really," she grins. "And why not?"
Without answering, he stands up, lifting her in the process. He sets her down on the edge of his desk and she unwraps herself from him, surprised at the sudden action. Before she can even ask him anything, he kisses her, captures her bottom lip between his teeth lightly.
"'Cause I'm not done," he says. "Turn around."
He takes a step back to give her space, and she hops off the desk and does what he wants, turns around, legs unsteady from her orgasm. Her breath hitches when she feels him so close behind her, draping himself over her back, forcing her to bend over. He places a kiss on the nape of her neck, then adjusts himself properly. She raises her ass in response, and while he keeps her skirt rolled up to her waist, he pulls her panties down this time, takes a second to appreciate the view. Then holds his cock, strokes himself a couple of times, still hard, still seeking more of her warmth, he drags the head up and down her slit as payback for all the teasing, and then he stops right at her entrance and smiles when she whines.
"Dante..."
"Hmmm?"
"Please..."
"It's just that I'm a little curious here," he says, pushing into her, just the tip first, just to get her to moan again. "I found religion in you," he goes all the way in now, burying himself to the hilt, one hand holding her hip the other one snaking up her chest, reaching her neck. "What did you find in me?"
And while he's not expecting a response, Lady fights the urge brewing inside her to answer him, to tell him the truth; that he's the only thing in this world that makes her feel safe, but her words break before they can be spoken and she begs him when he starts moving, no taking it slow now. His thrusts are fast, he slides in and out of her in a perfect rhythm, so perfect she doesn't want it to ever end.
Her hands clench into fists, she's a mess, god, she's such a mess, she finds everything in him, doesn't he know that, he should know, he's all the shelter she needs. She pleads for more, he's thrusting deep and hard, they fit so right into each other that she forgets why they haven't done this sooner. Nothing will ever be the same after this, she's more than aware, but it's hard to care when he brings her closer to him, her back now against his chest. He's still got his hand wrapped around her neck, squeezing it gently. The whole world fades away around them, she doesn't hear anything else but her own voice and his little grunts, the way he's trying to keep it together, he's in control now, after all.
"Wanted this for so long," he confesses, a soft whisper in her ear, never once stopping his movements. "Just like this."
"I wanted this too," she manages, voice barely above a sigh.
He finally drops his hand from her neck, slides out of her slowly, she whines, he grabs her by the waist and she takes the hint, turns around and sits on the edge of the desk, looks up at him to see him smiling, blue eyes sparkling. His lips on hers, their kiss tasting like the very first one; long and good, all the secrets they shared hiding between them.
She spreads her legs, he slides back into her with one hard thrust, she wraps her arms around his neck and when the kiss is over she buries her head on his chest, his thrusts becoming erratic, sloppy and she's feeling that first wave, she's so close this time she doesn't even have to be touched, he's hitting that spot just right. She's soaking wet, already marked by him, his cock sliding so easily into her, driving them both crazy.
"Don't stop," she begs. "Please, don't stop."
"I won't," he promises. "I won't, I won't stop..."
Her fingers are twisting the fabric of his shirt, and she's thankful he's not wearing that coat, she's thankful for every damn thing tonight. She's holding on to him, squeezing around his cock, right at the edge. "Dante..."
"I know," his voice is hoarse. "Come for me, babe, come for me again-" he almost slips out of her only to slide deep into her again, keeping his pace just like that. "You feel so good, so fucking good, go on, come for me."
Soon she's crying out and cliging to him, coming around his cock for the second time, and he's grunting, moaning, pumping in and out of her, trying to hold back but failing miserably. She urges him on as well, tells him she wants him to lose control, to come inside her again. And he does, lets go of what's left of his right mind, thrusts into her hard and fast and then goes still, clenches his jaw and comes, holding her tight.
The aftermath is hazy; he plants a kiss on the top of her head and then slips out of her, and adjusts himself, zips his pants up. She's still on top of the desk, her entire body weak, head dizzy. He turns around and starts picking up her discarded clothes, helps her with the shirt first, buttons it up for her because her hands are trembling. When she stands, he holds her steady as she puts on her panties, and then he fixes her skirt for her, rolls it down and smoothes it out with his hand.
She tries to take a step forward, but she's shaking all over and ends up in his arms.
"Easy," he says with a big grin.
"Don't be smug," she says, rolling her eyes. "I had a bra..."
Dante looks around the shop, spots the piece of clothing right next to the chair and picks it up for her. She's about to say something when they hear two high pitched voices outside. They look at the entrance, and sure enough there are two people passing by, talking about the weather and whatnot. Innocent chatter but Lady is suddenly hit with a very important realization:
"We didn't lock the door."
"No, we didn't."
"People could've walked in."
"Yep."
"And I was the only one naked," she concludes, and Dante snorts at that, earning himself a look from her. "This isn't funny!" she tries to be stern but the smile on her lips can't be helped, not when the expression on his face is so sweet.
"Tell you what, next time we'll both be naked, okay?"
"Deal."
"Good."
"And we'll lock the door."
"Of course," he says. "In fact, we could lock it right now, go upstairs and I'll let you undress me as much as you like."
"That's tempting..."
"So stay," he offers. "Stay here tonight."
She's always doing something, always busy, always on the hunt. There's always a little something hidden somewhere, a secret that she needs to uncover, demons that think they're smart, playing tricks and ruining lives. Dante knows this, he knows she can never stand still for too long. Asking her to stay is a risky move, but she bites her bottom lip, studies his offer and crosses her arms.
"Go lock the door then."
"As you wish," he smiles, steals a kiss and hopes she doesn't pick up on how loud his heart is beating.