Handcuffs
He circled her like he was preparing to rip out her lungs and feed them to her. Maybe he would. Maybe he would hold her down and tear her apart piece by piece today. The urge was always present and he watched her with oily black eyes as he smirked at the suggestion she brought up.
"Sweetheart, you've got to be kiddin' me."
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, shrugging a little bit and giving him a grin. She knew he was dangerous, she wasn't stupid, and that was why Sam had insisted she get that tattoo she'd been forced to have. She knew the demon inside Dean was definitely the man he used to be, however, and there were times she saw the Real Dean underneath all the cruelty and savagery.
"I'm not scared of you hurting me. It'll be fun!" She waved the handcuffs at him, and he had them out of her fingers and clasped around her wrist in an instant. "Ah-ah, not me, you."
"I'll break them," he pointed out, shaking his head a little bit.
"That's the point. You have to try not to."
The demon sighed and rolled his eyes, but he freed her arm and willingly let her cuff him to the chair. It was a little bit silly, he was sure he'd break them, but something in him, that deeply human root of his inky black former soul, was already thrilled by the playful tone this had taken.
She teased and touched, her fingertips running over his skin, and Dean pulled at the cuffs a little, forcing her to give him a warning reprimand through fingernails dug into his skin. That only served to please him all the more and his head hung back as every touch and every scrape made his body ache. Well, his former body. He supposed the Real Dean Winchester was still in there, but he wasn't really his happy-go-lucky self anymore.
She straddled his lap, and Dean bucked his hips up, but Darcy simply grinned at him, enjoying the way she could make something so inhuman behave in the most human of ways, and her mouth played over his throat as she rocked her hips against him, her breasts pressed to his solid chest.
"Enough messing around," he hissed out, and she gripped his shoulders for more leverage, grinding against him. "I'm serious," he added and Darcy chuckled.
Seconds later the cuffs snapped and Dean had her on her back. She only laughed. She downright giggled, and the demon was sure at this point Alastair was knocking himself out with how hard he was facepalming at how little fear he struck into the heart of this woman. In fact, she seemed to find his demonic prostrating adorable at times.
He pinned her, his body sinking against hers, and she gave a pleasured sigh at the full up feeling, her legs looping around his waist. He was rough, she'd wounded his demony pride, she supposed, but she didn't mind it so much. He was never so rough that it left real damage, and God was he gorgeous when he was this worked up.
She missed Dean, the real man with the broken soul, but this demon... well, he was a little bit Dean inside.
"Sweetheart, you've got to be kiddin' me."
She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, shrugging a little bit and giving him a grin. She knew he was dangerous, she wasn't stupid, and that was why Sam had insisted she get that tattoo she'd been forced to have. She knew the demon inside Dean was definitely the man he used to be, however, and there were times she saw the Real Dean underneath all the cruelty and savagery.
"I'm not scared of you hurting me. It'll be fun!" She waved the handcuffs at him, and he had them out of her fingers and clasped around her wrist in an instant. "Ah-ah, not me, you."
"I'll break them," he pointed out, shaking his head a little bit.
"That's the point. You have to try not to."
The demon sighed and rolled his eyes, but he freed her arm and willingly let her cuff him to the chair. It was a little bit silly, he was sure he'd break them, but something in him, that deeply human root of his inky black former soul, was already thrilled by the playful tone this had taken.
She teased and touched, her fingertips running over his skin, and Dean pulled at the cuffs a little, forcing her to give him a warning reprimand through fingernails dug into his skin. That only served to please him all the more and his head hung back as every touch and every scrape made his body ache. Well, his former body. He supposed the Real Dean Winchester was still in there, but he wasn't really his happy-go-lucky self anymore.
She straddled his lap, and Dean bucked his hips up, but Darcy simply grinned at him, enjoying the way she could make something so inhuman behave in the most human of ways, and her mouth played over his throat as she rocked her hips against him, her breasts pressed to his solid chest.
"Enough messing around," he hissed out, and she gripped his shoulders for more leverage, grinding against him. "I'm serious," he added and Darcy chuckled.
Seconds later the cuffs snapped and Dean had her on her back. She only laughed. She downright giggled, and the demon was sure at this point Alastair was knocking himself out with how hard he was facepalming at how little fear he struck into the heart of this woman. In fact, she seemed to find his demonic prostrating adorable at times.
He pinned her, his body sinking against hers, and she gave a pleasured sigh at the full up feeling, her legs looping around his waist. He was rough, she'd wounded his demony pride, she supposed, but she didn't mind it so much. He was never so rough that it left real damage, and God was he gorgeous when he was this worked up.
She missed Dean, the real man with the broken soul, but this demon... well, he was a little bit Dean inside.