Learning Curve, Devil May Cry (Sparda/Eva)
Title: Learning Curve
Author/Artist: shiegra
Rating: PG13/R
Prompt: Devil May Cry, Sparda/Eva: unusual bondage/biting and/or other forms of claiming dominance/marking territory - Humans used a ring and a kiss to bind and proclaim a mate.
Word count: 1018
Human men left--oh, rings and phone calls and sometimes hickeys to stake a claim.
Eva hadn't spent a lot of time studying demon mating habits; they hadn't been high on her list of need-to-know. But Sparda was a little different--made everything just different enough, and with her life tipped on its axis, her skin throbbing and sensitive where he'd marked her with fangs and tongue and a severed demon head in her kitchen sink, she was flipping through dusty texts and choking down sneezes as she scanned pages full of archaic terms and elaborately enscripted writing.
It might very well have been written on skin--hopefully not human, or she might have to hunt down the procurer on principle and ask some tough questions--and she wasn't looking too closely at the ink.
Strange terms. It was a hunter's book, so there was a lot on killing demon's mates and detecting when the sudden spike of murders were certain types of demons trying to win a mate with trophies. Useful enough, but not for her situation. She found lists of weapons, names, hard-to-decipher descriptions with spelling that suggested this had been created in a time lacking uniform dictionaries.
Eva sat back and swept her hair up behind her head, fanning her neck absently as she studied the dry pages. The movement of her shoulder made her shiveringly hyper-aware of the bold imprint of his mouth set against the upper curve of her breast.
And her sudden stillness in reaction, jerked fully out of a near-trance of focus, left her sensitive to the stirring of air behind her. The long blade at her thigh came out in a slithery hiss of metal and she twisted her torso, stabbing backwards without fulling turning to make up for lost time.
Fingers clamped down around her wrist and forced it against the arm of the chair. The warmth of the skin was familiar enough that she allowed it without struggle, and lips touched her ear, curving gently. "Research?"
"Mmmm." His mouth moved down her throat; she tipped her head back to allow it, her tiny sigh clear as a shout in the hushed, dust-choked room. Paper curled and crunched under her fingers as her hands clenched restlessly.
"You could," he whispered into her ear, the words falling heavily into the hush, "have just asked."
Eva leaned back into his touch, luxuriating in the heady, inhuman warmth of his skin even through clothing. He was even more intoxicating when naked, though the thought that summer nights might not be so pleasant had occurred to her. “All right. What is it?”
“It’s a claim,” he said after a quick, taut pause. He set his hands against her upper ribs, long strong fingers curving against her skin through cloth. “It’s...” The soft whisper of leather and muted noise of metal told her he knelt behind her, and she crossed her legs as his hands skimmed up over her breasts. Her nipples tightened, body attuned to him, but he barely paused before flicking open buttons to reveal the mark of his mouth set against her pale skin. He was better at taking off her shirts than she was.
“You’ll smell like me no matter how far I’m gone from you,” he said after a pause.
Eva thought this over, her hands drifting up to his; she locked her fingers around his wrists. He could break free with brutal-and, for him, negligent-strength, but if he tensed her hair-trigger reflexes could make it hurt.
Quietly, she said, “that could complicate my job.”
“Mmm,” he said after a moment, and hesitated. “It’s instinct. It could also protect you.”
She turned in the chair to meet his eyes; to study the animal intensity there, the way his expression sometimes didn’t quite seem to fit on the human bones of his face. It was out full force now. “Whether or not that’s true,” she said, “I would have liked to know beforehand.”
“I thought you would have,” he returned swiftly. “It was only when I realized where you’d gone that I figured out you must not have. When I asked you...that was what I meant.”
Eva cleared her throat and thought back over the evening. “All right,” she said coolly, “I’m willing to accept that. Keep in mind that my lessons on demonkind didn’t have much to do with romance.”
He gave a short, courteous nod, humor tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes dropped to her throat as she swallowed, and then to the swell of her breasts. As they lingered on the mark they went dark, pupils blowing wide-open black, and he gave a harsh shuddering sigh.
“On you, it looks...” He murmured, and then leaned forward.
The warm ghost of his breath touched it and jolted a savage lightning-strike of pure sexual heat to the pit of her stomach. Her hips jerked forward and her nails sank into his wrists as she gave a strangled, startled moan.
“Eva,” he said, voice dropped to a throbbing note that skated along human register and vibrated in her bones. He leaned back enough to look her in the eyes and she gave a rough moan and tipped forward, her lips parting.
“Next time spell it out,” she told him before their mouth met, and then he rose between her thighs, pressing against the line of her body. Eva spread her legs and leaned back again, bracing herself on her elbows on the table and shoving a text out of the way with her elbow. She was smiling and she knew it, heat and challenge and fierce invitation as she met his eyes.
He grinned back, as wickedly jubilant as a boy. “I’ll remember,” he said, and then he leaned forward and locked his mouth over the mark on her breast. The sound that came out was almost a scream, and her hands knotted in his hair, pulling.
He was so wonderfully much less breakable than human boys, she thought-her last coherent thought as she shoved at his coat and his hand slid down her stomach, flat-lining coherency.
Author/Artist: shiegra
Rating: PG13/R
Prompt: Devil May Cry, Sparda/Eva: unusual bondage/biting and/or other forms of claiming dominance/marking territory - Humans used a ring and a kiss to bind and proclaim a mate.
Word count: 1018
Human men left--oh, rings and phone calls and sometimes hickeys to stake a claim.
Eva hadn't spent a lot of time studying demon mating habits; they hadn't been high on her list of need-to-know. But Sparda was a little different--made everything just different enough, and with her life tipped on its axis, her skin throbbing and sensitive where he'd marked her with fangs and tongue and a severed demon head in her kitchen sink, she was flipping through dusty texts and choking down sneezes as she scanned pages full of archaic terms and elaborately enscripted writing.
It might very well have been written on skin--hopefully not human, or she might have to hunt down the procurer on principle and ask some tough questions--and she wasn't looking too closely at the ink.
Strange terms. It was a hunter's book, so there was a lot on killing demon's mates and detecting when the sudden spike of murders were certain types of demons trying to win a mate with trophies. Useful enough, but not for her situation. She found lists of weapons, names, hard-to-decipher descriptions with spelling that suggested this had been created in a time lacking uniform dictionaries.
Eva sat back and swept her hair up behind her head, fanning her neck absently as she studied the dry pages. The movement of her shoulder made her shiveringly hyper-aware of the bold imprint of his mouth set against the upper curve of her breast.
And her sudden stillness in reaction, jerked fully out of a near-trance of focus, left her sensitive to the stirring of air behind her. The long blade at her thigh came out in a slithery hiss of metal and she twisted her torso, stabbing backwards without fulling turning to make up for lost time.
Fingers clamped down around her wrist and forced it against the arm of the chair. The warmth of the skin was familiar enough that she allowed it without struggle, and lips touched her ear, curving gently. "Research?"
"Mmmm." His mouth moved down her throat; she tipped her head back to allow it, her tiny sigh clear as a shout in the hushed, dust-choked room. Paper curled and crunched under her fingers as her hands clenched restlessly.
"You could," he whispered into her ear, the words falling heavily into the hush, "have just asked."
Eva leaned back into his touch, luxuriating in the heady, inhuman warmth of his skin even through clothing. He was even more intoxicating when naked, though the thought that summer nights might not be so pleasant had occurred to her. “All right. What is it?”
“It’s a claim,” he said after a quick, taut pause. He set his hands against her upper ribs, long strong fingers curving against her skin through cloth. “It’s...” The soft whisper of leather and muted noise of metal told her he knelt behind her, and she crossed her legs as his hands skimmed up over her breasts. Her nipples tightened, body attuned to him, but he barely paused before flicking open buttons to reveal the mark of his mouth set against her pale skin. He was better at taking off her shirts than she was.
“You’ll smell like me no matter how far I’m gone from you,” he said after a pause.
Eva thought this over, her hands drifting up to his; she locked her fingers around his wrists. He could break free with brutal-and, for him, negligent-strength, but if he tensed her hair-trigger reflexes could make it hurt.
Quietly, she said, “that could complicate my job.”
“Mmm,” he said after a moment, and hesitated. “It’s instinct. It could also protect you.”
She turned in the chair to meet his eyes; to study the animal intensity there, the way his expression sometimes didn’t quite seem to fit on the human bones of his face. It was out full force now. “Whether or not that’s true,” she said, “I would have liked to know beforehand.”
“I thought you would have,” he returned swiftly. “It was only when I realized where you’d gone that I figured out you must not have. When I asked you...that was what I meant.”
Eva cleared her throat and thought back over the evening. “All right,” she said coolly, “I’m willing to accept that. Keep in mind that my lessons on demonkind didn’t have much to do with romance.”
He gave a short, courteous nod, humor tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes dropped to her throat as she swallowed, and then to the swell of her breasts. As they lingered on the mark they went dark, pupils blowing wide-open black, and he gave a harsh shuddering sigh.
“On you, it looks...” He murmured, and then leaned forward.
The warm ghost of his breath touched it and jolted a savage lightning-strike of pure sexual heat to the pit of her stomach. Her hips jerked forward and her nails sank into his wrists as she gave a strangled, startled moan.
“Eva,” he said, voice dropped to a throbbing note that skated along human register and vibrated in her bones. He leaned back enough to look her in the eyes and she gave a rough moan and tipped forward, her lips parting.
“Next time spell it out,” she told him before their mouth met, and then he rose between her thighs, pressing against the line of her body. Eva spread her legs and leaned back again, bracing herself on her elbows on the table and shoving a text out of the way with her elbow. She was smiling and she knew it, heat and challenge and fierce invitation as she met his eyes.
He grinned back, as wickedly jubilant as a boy. “I’ll remember,” he said, and then he leaned forward and locked his mouth over the mark on her breast. The sound that came out was almost a scream, and her hands knotted in his hair, pulling.
He was so wonderfully much less breakable than human boys, she thought-her last coherent thought as she shoved at his coat and his hand slid down her stomach, flat-lining coherency.