Blake pressed the blade to the flesh of Roman's exposed throat. Blake fidgeted, listening to the commotion of the White Fang's rally outside. With her keen senses, she was able to stop Roman before he ever made it outside, take his legs out from under him and put all of her weight onto his chest…you know, in hindsight, maybe that wasn't such a great idea.
He deflected her blade away from his neck with the back of one hand and seized Blake's ankle with the other. In one swift movement, Blake's katana fell out of her hands and her weight was shifted to a degree that she couldn't come back from. Incapable of regaining her balance in the darkness, she fell, preparing to land on top of Torchwick but instead meeting cold, hard concrete. Upon landing, Blake curled up and cradled the back of her head, which throbbed with pain.
Roman was on his feet, nudging Gambol Shroud out of her reach before descending on top of her. "I guess kitty cats don't land well." The corner of his mouth turned up, highlighted by the moonlight filtering through the window.
It's too dark in here, Blake thought, biting her lip.
She raised a hand from her head to do something—claw, scratch, gouge—anything that would get her out of this pressing dilemma. Roman wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pushed it forcefully against the ground.
Blake exhaled sharply. She glanced back at his face and felt a giddy feeling in her gut—anxiety? Or excitement?—when she saw that he was grinning, relishing in the moment.
"What are you doing?" Blake seethed.
Roman clicked his tongue. "Taking advantage of the opportunities."
Before Blake had a chance to think, Roman collapsed onto her body, putting all of the force of his weight into his elbow. She felt it right in the middle of her stomach, pushing all of her breath out of her lungs in one forced blow. Her legs instinctively curled up, at the liberty of moving, but he wouldn't let her move her upper torso, which felt so stretched out and too restricted to get more air into her lungs.
When Roman finally took his weight off of her, she prepared to move, get up, run, but he clamped his hand down on her throat as he adjusted himself into a straddling position over Blake's hips. He set all of his weight down on her bones, an action that her body protested against. She tried to push him off, but he just playfully grabbed her hands and laced his fingers through hers, tightening his grip so she wouldn't be able to slip away.
"You're crushing me," she heaved, oxygen barely returning to her lungs.
Roman rolled his eyes. "If I sat on your chest, then you'd be in trouble. You'll live."
Blake peered at him with fear-stricken eyes. "What do you want?"
"The same thing you do, Bella," he whispered, leaning in closer to her face.
"I-I don't know what you're talking about." Blake's voice quivered with pretense and the wavering doubt in her own words.
"Oh, come on," he teased. "I saw the way you walked in here, looking to pick a fight. At first, I thought that's all it was, but I could practically feel it."
"Feel what?" Blake spat. What felt like truth in her head sounded like denial spoken aloud.
"How lonely you are," he breathed. Roman came so close that Blake could feel his words on her lips. He changed his grip so he could hold both of her hands above her head with only one of his. He brought a hand down the side of her arm, "I noticed when you took your first step," along her tricep, "you left plenty of room," against the soft skin beneath her armpit, "for me to hurt you," his hand stopped, flat against her obliques, "right here." He squeezed gently. Blake took in a sharp breath and turned her head to the side.
Roman whispered against her neck, lips ghosting along her skin. "You and I both know you wanted me to take you down."
Blake squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to deny it.
"So I played along and gave you ample opportunity to take me down, just to see what would happen." He moved to the skin along her chin that connected her earlobe to her neck. "Of course, you missed several of them. I know you have good eyes, so I know it must have been intentional."
Roman's hand slid up to meet her breast. Her back arched in response to the contact, brushing against Roman's chest. He chuckled low, a sound that would have been nearly inaudible if he wasn't as close as he was right now.
Blake's lip trembled and her heart was beating against her breastbone, hyperaware of the way she could feel Roman biting his lip against her skin.
"You got frustrated, and you actually gave me a real fight," he smiled, positioning his mouth right above her ear. "And you managed you put me on the ground."
"I think that just goes to show," Blake grunted, "how lonely you are."
Roman sighed. "You're missing the point, Belladonna. You weren't even trying in that first minute. I had to drive you over the edge to get you to act."
"Shut up," she moaned. She struggled to get her hands out from under his, but her wrists remained firmly locked underneath his weight.
"Stop denying it. You already know what you want," teeth grazing against her skin. Blake whimpered.
"Just give in. It feels so much better to stop shaming yourself for the things you really want." Roman lifted his hand from her chest and grabbed her chin, forcing her to face him.
"Fine, I'll bite," she shuddered, "What do you think I want?"
He smirked. "This has nothing to do with me. If you want something, it's up to you to take advantage of the moment."
Roman pulled his weight off her hands. Blake immediately slipped her hand out from under him, hooking her arm under the arm he was using to hold himself up and wrapping her opposite leg around his. Moving before Roman could realize what was happening, she pulled his arm out from under him and kept his leg in place as she rolled over him.
He was too heavy to pull around so quickly, but she still managed to do it. When he started laughing hysterically beneath her, she had her answer. He let her. In this brief moment, Blake realized something: her weapon was within reach, and Roman's guard was down. That, or he knew, and he had absolutely no concern for his safety.
Blake had no idea what to do. If she does reach for her weapon, Roman fights for real and gets a grand opportunity at any and all of her essential organs. Blake didn't even want to know if he had a concealed weapon on his person. She watched her hair fall off her shoulder and lay against the side of his face.
Roman peered up at her and flashed a sly grin. "What's it gonna be, Blake?"
There's only one way out of this, isn't there? Blake bit her lip in indecision.
Roman groaned and reached for his coat pocket. Concealed weapon. If there was ever a time to act, it would be now. Blake grabbed his hand as he was unbuttoning his coat and held it away from his chest. Roman rolled his eyes. Blake closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If there was ever a time to act, it would be now. Blake leaned down and pressed her lips to his as ravenously and enthusiastically as she could.
His lips felt soft and fresh, a contrast to how disgusted she felt to do this. She's kissed people before, but nothing felt as forced or as unnatural as this present moment. Unfortunately, he was about as convinced as she was. He pressed his hands against her shoulders in an attempt to push her off of him.
Out of options, Blake grabbed the lapels of his coat, pulled his body up and slammed his head back down onto the concrete. The look on Torchwick's face was priceless—serves him right. It was a mix between pure incredulous shock and intrigued surprise. Blake was sure that her face reflected the same mix of emotions. She was so ready to smash this guy's face in, and yet she kind of wanted to see what would happen. Blake didn't know whether to be scared or proud of the side that came out, but she didn't care.
"Don't touch me," Blake growled.
For a moment, Roman seemed like he had something to say, but she jumped back down before he could get a sound out of his mouth.
Giving her best effort at restraining herself from ripping off his mouth with her teeth entirely, Blake bit his lip and hoped she wasn't clamping down hard enough to draw blood. When Blake grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled it back to expose his throat, he finally responded. Responding to Blake's teeth nibbling the soft, annoying perfect skin under his ear, he moaned in pleasure. One of Roman's hands tangled itself in the hair behind her head, the other moving slowly along her side. Blake shuddered.
Licking a line up his neck to his earlobe, Blake worked to undo the buttons on his coat with one of her hands. She found the task nearly impossible and withdrew her hand from his hair. The moment she did, Roman pressed himself off the ground and used his grip on Blake's hair to force her to sit up.
She grunted and moved her legs around his waist. Feeling Roman's grasp on her hair in her scalp, Blake let out a breathy, shaking moan that drove him damn near wild. Roman placed his mouth delicately along her collarbone as he snuck his palm up her back.
"Oh, come on," Blake muttered.
Roman snickered in response. Blake shook her head vigorously and balled up the fabric of Roman's coat in her fists. With each delicate placement of his lips, Blake cringed, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut. She wrapped her hand around his throat and pushed him back. He looked thoroughly pleased with himself.
"Don't you fucking move," she breathed, reaching for the buttons of his coat.
He leaned back on his hands and watched her determined hands. "You got it," he slurred.
When she finally unbuttoned the last infuriating button on his stupid coat, Blake pushed her hands down the sleeves to get his coat off of his arms. Roman just sat back and watched her with a devilish grin on his face.
Blake narrowed her eyes.
"What?" he asked innocently. "You told me to—"
Blake slipped two of her fingers under Roman's scarf and pulled his face to hers. "Don't even fucking say it."
Roman slipped his hand further up Blake's shirt until his fingers touched her bra strap. When Blake realized what he was doing, her entire back tensed and tingled with a warming sensation that spread from her head to her toes, rolling through each muscle with as much of a tease as the smug bastard who was doing this to her.
Blake closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his as Roman slipped a finger under her bra strap. Blake's mouth opened in anticipation of what he was going to do next, Roman using the opening to slide his tongue along her upper lip. Blake leaned into the sensation and let her tongue graze his. She slipped her hand up his t-shirt and slid all the way up his chest—God damn, his abs feel good—and twisted his shirt in her fingers.
When he undid the clasp of her bra, the weight on her chest dissipated, and Blake dove at Roman's neck, fumbling to undo the knot. She managed to disengage it easily, slipping the silk away from his throat. Blake didn't know what she wanted to do more, choke him with his own scarf or tear his throat out with her teeth.
She pushed him onto his back, leaving his hands to travel up and down her torso. Feeling the tugging on her shirt, Blake used one hand to undo the clasp on her vest. She tore it away from her body and threw it aside. Her hands moved to push his head back so she could taste his neck.
Blake could tell from the vibration in his chest against hers that he was laughing. One of his hands drifted below her waistband and squeezed her ass, making his intentions perfectly clear. The thought excited and repulsed her at the same time, but she only purred in his ear, rolling back into the touch.
When Roman pulled her all the way down to his body, she didn't know what he was doing, but then he rolled over on top of her and pressed her shoulders down with his hands. Gazing lazily up to his face, she half expected him to do something to piss her off, but his face seemed focused, controlled.
Blake reached for the edge of his shirt and pulled it up. He pushed up and took his shirt off himself, drawing it out like some sort of show. He pulled it over his head and pushed his hand through his hair to straighten it out. When his hair fell back in his face, he looked at her with a hungry look that scared her.
He lowered himself down to her lips, taking up her chin in his hand. For a moment, he studied his face as if to draw it. Then he took two of his fingertips and placed them gently on top of her mouth. Blake licked her lips, shaking only slightly. Roman tipped his head to the side.
"Relax," he mumbled. "You're too tense."
Blake reached around Roman's shoulders and dug into his flesh with her fingernails. He didn't seem to mind one bit. His palm flattened against her stomach and glided up her ribcage. His fingers slid along the sensitive skin lining the underside of her breast, gently stroking it but not moving it any further, faster, or rougher than that.
At that moment, Blake realized his game: he was teasing her. He would do it right to the end and laugh at her for giving in. Like hell she was going to let that happen.
She pulled his hand out of her shirt and pushed herself out from under his body. Grabbing her vest and scrambling to get it on as fast as possible, she stepped away from him and picked up her weapon, aiming the gun at his face.
"Leaving already?" Roman asked in a seductive tone.
Checking the ground for things she may have left behind, Blake backed away slowly.
Roman sat up and reached for the coat discarded to his side. He reached for the pocket.
"Don't move," Blake commanded.
He kept moving and retrieved a cigar. "Got a light?" he asked, face devoid of expression or emotion.
"No," she responded. Blake turned on her heel and ran.
He called out as she left, "Bonsoir, mademoiselle. À la prochaine."
Fun fact: if I don't write sin like this, I have to bathe in holy water every two months to get it out of my system.
I've been crack-shipping this lately, and I just need to GET IT OUT.