The Devil Named Deimos

Little Games

IM BACK BITCHESSSS (with a saucy chapter too;)

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My cheeks began to grow warm, and I arched an eyebrow at him.

"Baby?" I murmured, attempting to come off playful in spite of my racing heart. "You must be mistaken, Mr. Themis. I am no baby."

And with that, I stalked closer to him. I wanted to show him that I am not soft.  I wanted to show him that I am dangerous. One side of lip quirked up, as if daring me to come closer, tempting me to touch him, challenging me to be dominant.

I took the challenge. 

Placing my body right in front of his, I left just enough space between us to not touch the whipped cream on his body. Staring him directly in the eyes, I could see his smirk lessening, as Deimos began to realize - I was not playing. 

Taking my hand, I trail my index finger from his broad shoulders, painfully slow, down his muscular chest, past his toned abs, stopping above the waist band of his sweatpants. 

I took my whipped cream covered hand and slid it past his waistband, looking him in the eyes. I saw fire. Deimos licked his lips, his hand clenching my counter top: tightly. My fingers skimmed the waistband of his boxers, and with a mind of their own, those mischievous fingers crossed that boundary as well.

I have entered into the Devil's hell. 

The skin my finger came in contact with was blazing; I relished in it. Deimos' eyes were hooded, staring at me with an intensity that almost made me weak at the knees.  

I halted my hand right before it touched the Devil's most precious possession, and with a taunting smile, I trailed my whipped cream covered finger back up his body 

- then into my mouth.  

While keeping eye contact with him, I took the whole length of my finger into my mouth, and slowly, brought it out again, licking it up and down for good measure. I let myself smirk as I drawled, "I won."

Deimos stared at me, his golden eyes had never been so arousing. The hellfire that shined in them drew me in, and made me want to taste so much more, infinitely more. He licked his lips once more, this time at a slower pace, allowing to follow his every movement, allowing me to crave his taste even more.

His arms did something I did not expect. They left their position on the counter, and wrapped themselves around my waist. His hands were low, dangerously close to my ass. And I was thrilled. Without a warning, Deimos pulled me closer to him, his body warmth seeping into me because of the close proximity.

"Aurora," Deimos huskily murmured; his voice soft but so rough at the same time, "the things your little games do to me." The Devil's eyes looked at my face, flickering between my lips and my eyes, and all my features, as if he was absorbing me. I felt as if I was under his trance. 

The whipped cream had dripped off of him by now, melting onto the floor, but I couldn't care less. I placed my hands on his chest, as Deimos pulled me even closer, staring down at me with dark, gold eyes. 

Biting my lip, I tilted my head, acting curiously stupid, and asked, "What do my little games do to you, Mr. Themis?" I was deliciously drowning in the tension that coated the room.

A devilish smirk painted his lips, like the one you would expect to see before receiving hellish punishment. To answer my foolish question, Deimos' large hand enveloped my own, guiding it towards the dangerous territory once again. 

Except this time, the Devil placed my hand inside his pants, placing my fingers around his most prized possession.  My dangerous facade faded as I let out a small gasp at his actions, but more because of what I was feeling.