A Dance With The Devil

"We did it, my queen, look around, the world is ours now," your husband and criminal mastermind, Hans Gruber, says to you with his arm around your waist.

You look around as you walk with your husband through the streets of Paris after your successful raid of Nakatomi Plaza back in LA.

The yellow glow of the city lights dances melodically upon the water under the illuminant and grand Eiffel Tower. The air is warm, the summer night breeze caressing the open back and slit leg of your luxurious, long, black dress.

Strangers with familiar faces are dining inside expensive restaurants, smoking and drinking wine, not having one care in the world, cause, after all, this is Paris.

You stop to face Hans dressed in his expensive charcoal suit and red tie as you rest your hands around each other's waists.

"We make a splendid team darling," you praise.

Hans just smiles and mutters, "Kiss me Libelling."

You stand on one toe to reach up to meet your criminal husband with a passionate kiss. Despite his intimidating nature, his kisses were soft but deliciously hungry. His nose digs into your cheek and you feel his beard tickle your upper lip as you melt into his touch.

Just as your knees start to give in, with his lips still on yours, he snakes his hand around the small of your back before dipping you suddenly over his knee. You giggle excitedly in response and he smirks before lifting you back up.

He lets you twirl away from his outstretched hand and back in again as your back hits against his torso, his long arms wrapping around your smaller frame.

From this position, he kisses your neck causing you to let out a subtle moan as he mutters in your ear, "Dance with me, my queen."

"It would be a pleasure Mr Gruber," you smirk as you turn around to curtesy and offer him your limp hand, playing into the part. Your 24 Carat diamond wedding ring Hans gave you shining like an expensive star.

He grabs your fingertips and kisses them with a bow, a mischievous grin painted across his face the whole time as you step forward and get in position to dance.

A local French accordion player spots you and him from afar and walks over to you, situating himself at a respectable distance before starting to play the song "Passion" by Tony Murena.

You were merely just another couple in Paris. No one knew who you were or what you had done. Just two strangers dancing in the pale moonlight.

The world closes in around you as the music plays, feeling as if it's just you and Hans under the night sky of Paris.

You dance in a square as Hans looks down at you with a soft smile, "You look absolutely ravishing tonight my dear."

He twirls you through his fingers, staring at your figure as you spin before pulling you back into his chest sharply.

"How did a man as corrupted as me get so lucky to have a woman as angelic as you in his life," he flatters as he dips you again.

"How did a woman as ordinary as me get so lucky to have a man as grand as you in her life?" you reply as he pulls you back up into his chest.

"Ah but you're no ordinary woman," he starts leading the dance again.

"Would an ordinary woman rob a multi-million dollar company with her murderous, criminal husband?" he smirks as he lifts you off the ground and spins you around in his arms, your black dress flaring out angelically, before placing you gently back on the cobblestone.

"I guess you're right," you reply humbly.

"I know. I'm always right," Hans brags.

You chuckle in response as he bends you backwards slightly and kisses you deeply. You melt into it, never getting familiar with the sweet feeling. When you part, your eyes are greeted with your husbands' perfectly sculpted face painted with a devilish smirk.

He then turns your body around so your back is pulled tight against his torso. You sway your hips in rhythm with the music against him as he takes your hand and lifts it over your head before using it to pivot your body sharply back around, meeting with his piercing gaze again.

He caresses his hands down your waist and to your hips where he grabs your thigh and extends your leg past him, his other hand on your back for support as he dips you. This time slowly, letting his hand trail all the way up the exposed leg of your slit dress as he manoeuvres his head down your face and chest, barely grazing your skin. Your body shivers as you feel Hans' hot breath against your flesh before he slithers his head back up to meet your eyes again.

He lowers your leg and pulls your body taught against his chest where you stop and take a moment to stare into each other's eyes, the music dancing through your blood, hearts swimming with desire.

"I love y-" you go to speak but your sentence is cut off with Hans' slender finger to your lips.

"Shh."

He pauses for a moment.

"Just dance," he insists as he returns his hand to your waist.

You look at him with fiery passion as you continue to dance silently with only the melodic humming of the accordion filling the atmosphere around you.

Your bodies move as one as your chests are pressed closely together, feeling each other's heartbeat as your feet step methodically along the ground.

Hans pulls you in at the waist as he leans down to meet your lips with another passionate kiss. He wraps his arms around your thighs and lifts you up off the ground as he turns in a circle, his lips still on yours.

The world slows down around you as you spin in your husband's arms. The wind blows through your hair, the music embraces your souls, as you cup his bearded face with both hands, savouring his rich lips against yours.

Momentum slows down as you gradually come to a halt. Hans gently lowers you to the ground and your lips break away from each other. You stare at each other with heavy breaths and stars in your eyes.

Hans smiles as he strokes a piece of hair behind your ear and mutters, "I love you too darling."

The music suddenly stops, "Ah bravo! Magnifique!! Tu es magique Monsieur et Madame!" the loud Frenchman with the accordion praises as he runs over to you and Hans.

The Frenchman grips your shoulders and giddily places two kisses beside each cheek before turning to Hans and doing the same.

Hans is taken back by the gesture and goes to reach for his gun before you quickly grip his arm, "Play nice. He's only French."

Hans rolls his eyes and reluctantly pulls his hand away from his breast pocket.

"Thank you, Sir. Now may I enjoy the rest of the evening with my wife? Alone?" Hans sneers, giving the Frenchman a stern look

"Ah of course. I wouldn't want to ruin such a beautiful evening for you and your gorgeous wife," he says with clasped hands and a pure smile.

"Good, we'll be on our way now," Hans says as he holds your waist and starts to walk.

You stop him in his tracks as you reach for his wallet in his trouser pocket and pull out a 100 euro note.

You turn to the Frenchman and place it in his hands, "You play absolutely wonderfully my dear," you praise.

The Frenchman stares in awe, probably having never received that much money in his entire life.

"Oh mon Dieu. Thankyou Madame!! Monsieur, Thank you!" he gushes as he grips the note with both hands and looks at you and Hans with glee.

Hans just rolls his eyes and turns to you, "Now, if you're satisfied. May we leave now?" he says irritably.

You scoff with a smile and bid the Frenchman goodbye, "Bonsoir kind Sir."

"Bonsoir Madame et Monseiur. Enjoy the rest of your romantic evening here in Pariś!" he enthuses as he bows flamboyantly, twirling his hand in the air before walking away and continuing to play his accordion passionately in the night.

"I don't know why you did that," Hans mocks as he places his hand on your waist and starts to walk.

"Cause we can," you say as you reach up and kiss him on the cheek.

He silently agrees with a smirk and you continue your magical evening as you walk arm and arm with your loving husband and partner in crime through the charming city of Paris.