hold me tight or dont ;

Lucas clever as the devil and twice as pretty Her smile was too sweet, and Lucas's eyes narrowed as she swung a leg over him, the devil leaning back on both hands now to gaze up at her. Unbeknownst to him, he had unintentionally given her a perfect canvas with which to paint her picture, exposing his chest. "Oh?" he asked, head tilting as her hands explored his neck, as her fingers stroked at his cheek. No, he didn't believe this charade any longer, but that didn't mean he felt anything to fear from Rexanna. (More fool him, as he would find out shortly). "Will you, now? That didn't seem to be the case before," he said, a dark smile lighting up his face - he recalled with perfect clarity, in fact, the sound of her pleasure, the happy submission, the taste of her on his lips and his tongue. But her tone had changed, and Lucas had time to feel puzzled, for his expression to turn mildly confused... before the world between them lit up and sparked, and sizzled, and burned. Of course he felt no pain, but the guttural instinct to run from fire was as ingrained in him now as Ascended as his affinity for it had been as the devil. Flinching back with nowhere to go, the scent of burning fabric and searing flesh soon filled the air between them, and Lucas had no choice but to look up into Rexanna's face as it happened, as he was branded by her her hands. The same hands that came back to cup his cheeks. He flashed her a fanged grin. "But of course," he all but whispered. "You might even say I'm yours, my dear."