NB: I do not own Kuroshitsuji. A reader told me that the first chapter of 'Fidelitas' had somehow been substituted for this story. My apologies for the mix-up. I have now corrected the mistake. Thanks for your patience.

FYI: This is a discarded chapter for 'Fidelitas,' but I realized that it was too lighthearted and did not fit that story. I decided to brush it off a bit and put it up as a one-shot for all you fangirls out there who've fantasized about playing a little strip poker with Sebby (BTW: he's very good). 'Fidelitas' probably would have looked like this if I believed in happy endings.

FYI #2: This is (likely) the last of my work you'll see in this AU (I have one more vignette rattling around in my head, but I'm unsure if it's worthy of putting pen to paper...or fingers to keyboard, as it were). I'm hoping to work on something else next. As always, comments and reviews are not only invited, but necessary to a writer's process (although I blush every time I call myself a 'writer'….perhaps I'll earn that title one day). Do enjoy, and as always, thank you for your indulgence.

Alexandra was bored. Very bored. This was a rare occurrence in her life. After all, she'd spent most of her adult years exorcising demons from the human bodies they inhabited forcibly. When she wasn't whipping out bottles of holy water with lightning speed, she was reading up on the magical arts, experimenting with spells, and generally expanding her repertoire of skills. So, one evening during what Sebastian called her "convalescence" (he was old-fashioned), when there were no demons to battle (except the one sitting across the room, looking at her in a manner ranging from improper to downright shameless), no books to hold her interest, and no spellwork to perfect, she found herself utterly, incurably bored. A thunderstorm raged outdoors, beating a deafening tattoo on the roof, and she could not even walk the grounds to keep herself occupied. She sat listlessly at her desk, lost in a thoughtless stupor, her eyes glazed-over and her features drawn into a scowl.

Sebastian could feel her restlessness from across the room. She'd been short with him and irritable all day, and he knew in the way that he simply knew things that he'd have to contrive some kind of diversion or he'd never get laid (although Sebastian would never use the term "get laid"). He pulled out a deck of playing cards from the inner pocket of his suit jacket (Westwood, thank you very much), moved silently across the room and sat down in the high-backed chair in front of her. She'd been in a daze, but her eyes snapped up at him as he took his seat. She said nothing and continued drumming her fingers impatiently, clearly expecting him to explain his sudden appearance in front of her. He nonchalantly crossed one leg over the other and tossed the deck of playing cards on her (recently cleaned by him) desk. The double-eagle logo embossed on the back caught her eye. It looked eerily similar to the Romanov crest, and she found her attention drawn to the cards immediately.

"The Funtom Company? What's this, some sort of front for Rasputin's followers?"

"No. It's merely a deck of playing cards. Nothing more, nothing less." There was mischief in his glint, but it was gone in an instant and she missed it as she examined them. He was right. They were just playing cards. The symmetry between the Funtom logo and the Romanov crest was a simple coincidence. She frowned.

"And so they are. What would you have me do with them, build you a tower?" She was eying him now, and if incredulity were a garment, then Alexandra was wearing the hell out of it. Sebastian only smiled.

"Master, I am aware that you are…irritable…when you're bored and housebound ("bitchy" is yet another term not in Sebastian's vocabulary). So, I thought we might play."

"I'm in no mood for games, Sebastian." She huffed and turned away from him, fingers still drumming steadily.

Sebastian cleared his throat delicately and decided that things might swing in his favor if he employed her own tactics against her."I'm sorry. I was unaware that you had more important matters to attend." He reached out towards the abandoned deck, long fingers inching forward slowly when she lightly slapped her hand on top of his and looked at him again. The nighttime fire was burning low in the library grate, and she was mesmerized by how his eyes seemed to glow in its flickering light. Being so distracted, she missed the victorious grin playing across his lips. It's almost too easy.

"I suppose a hand or two would be better than sitting here twiddling my thumbs." She smiled apologetically but didn't vocalize any regret for being so rude. No matter, he thought, I've better things in mind than conciliatory apologies. "What sorts of card games do demons play, then?" She smirked.

"I believe the game's modern name is 'poker.' I am assuming you know how to play, yes?"

Alexandra laughed. Of course she played poker. Her life was a perpetual game of high-stakes poker. Who is he kidding? "Yes. I play. What kind of bored aristocrat would I be if I didn't play poker?"

He smiled again. "Good."

"Sebastian, when did you start playing poker? I was unaware that you possessed this particular skill."

"With all due respect, I possess a great many skills of which you are unaware." There was no missing the red glow in his eyes this time. There was intent behind his words that left her feeling a little dizzy and a lot flushed.

"I bet you do. But, I'm afraid you can't beat me in poker. I've been playing since I was a little girl."

"If you're so confident of your abilities, perhaps we should raise the stakes."

"You care naught for material things and you already have my soul. After that, the stakes are immaterial. But I'll be indulgent. What would you like to play for?"

"Naivete does not become you at all. You know exactly what I want. I believe in America, they call this variation of the game 'strip poker.' Correct?"

She would have laughed if she didn't know he was being serious. "You want to play strip poker with me? You know I could simply order you to lose, right?"

"Yes. I also know that you'd do no such thing. You'd prefer the challenge of compelling me out of my clothes." It had the tone of declaration, not inquisition.

She stopped short. Damn him. Damn him to Hell, the unnecessarily perceptive son-of-a-bitch. She kept a smile pinned to her face as hesitation gnawed at her stomach. She was an exceptionally good poker-player, but he was a demon. There was a chance she'd lose, and then she'd have to escalate their physical relationship. Doubtless he intended just that; he'd been trying to mark her since the covenant was made. If she said no, however, he'd know that she was fearful of losing (more than just a few hands of cards). He's a crafty one, isn't he? And then she heard it—the tiny, reckless voice in her head that she should have ignored but invariably didn't. Are you or are you not a magician? it asked. And she smiled her evilest smile, and she looked at him with determination burning in her brown eyes, and she slid the deck of cards from underneath his palm slowly. Very slowly.

"Yes. I suppose I would. But I have some ground rules. The loser of each hand removes whatever article of clothing they choose. I will not order you to lose. You will not touch unless invited. Agreed?"

"I'd never touch without your permission, master." He feigned shock at her insinuation, but the mischief in his tone was all too telling. She rolled her eyes at him, unconvinced. Sure you wouldn't.

"Those are my rules Sebastian."

"I'm agreed."

He didn't seem the least flustered by that bit about not touching, she thought. He's up to something. She dealt the cards. They were quite old, she realized. There was no modern plastic lamination, no fancy acetate. They were good old-fashioned cardstock of excellent quality and felt luxurious on her fingertips. How long had it been since she'd had a few minutes of frivolity? Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. Sebastian swept his cards up in his fingers and fanned them out in front of his face, leaving only his eyes visible over them. The way he ran his gloved index finger up and down along the edge of a card while he pretended to think nearly made her breath catch. Bastard, she thought, bastard, bastard, bastard.

Alexandra looked at her hand: a pair of tens, ace high. She dealt the flop. An eight of clubs. That will never do. There's no way he'd be looking like that if he didn't have a good hand. She rubbed the nine of hearts at the end of her set between her thumb and forefinger and silently concentrated on a few choice words. When she removed her finger, it revealed a ten of hearts. Better. Much better.

He placed his set of three tens on the table. That cheating bastard. She placed hers down as well.

"You cheated." It was accusatory, yes, but there was much more amusement in her tone than anything else. A competition of prowess between a magician and a demon? Things are getting very interesting.

"As did you."

"Okay. We drop the high card on the table on the count of three to prevent any further cheating. Ready? One. Two. Three." Two pieces of cardstock hit the table simultaneously. Alexandra's ace carried the hand and she grinned broadly as she leaned back in her chair and propped her feet up, crossing them lazily. "Well, you're the one who wanted to play games." She bit her bottom lip as she looked across the desk at him. "Strip."

He caught the index finger of his leather glove in his teeth and looked directly into her eyes. He smiled. And then he pulled his hand out of his glove, millimeter by millimeter. She only shook her head. I've seen that a hundred times. Boring. He threw it gently over the desk in her direction, and she caught it in her own hand. She too bit the finger of the glove, making sure it was the same one that had lately been in his teeth and tugged at it playfully, arching an eyebrow in his direction. His lips formed a surprised 'oh' for a split second before he recomposed himself. She tossed the glove over the back of her chair casually.

"Next hand?" She said, reaching again for the deck.

"Wait."

"Oh, I see. You're getting nervous. I'm not surprised. You strike me as the kind of man who doesn't lose gracefully."

"No nervousness at all; I've every confidence I'll win. But I wish to emend to your ground rules." She looked at him. He wants to touch me. She smiled knowingly. And because he wants so badly to touch me, he'll have to ask for permission. I'll win. "No more magic."

"W-what?" The look he sent her told her that he knew damn well what she was expecting him to say. She wouldn't have recognized that the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach was disappointment. She'd have called it frustration.

"Is there a problem?" Sebastian spoke again with an obscenely matter-of-fact tone. Your rules, master. You'll invite me to touch you….and much more.

"No. That's fair, I suppose." You'll pay for that; I'm going to wipe that smirk off your face permanently.

"And I deal. I don't trust you."

"You don't trust me?" She huffed sarcastically but waved for him to continue. He dealt their cards swiftly. Alexandra had nothing, just another ace high. This is not good. He turned down the flop: ace of spades. She had a pair of aces now. It wasn't a great hand, but she was still in the game. He motioned for her to show. She did. He revealed his own cards without a tell. No smirk, no evil glint of the eye, but a slow, one by one turning over of cardstock. Three threes. Goddamnit, she thought.

"You've lost."

She was not about to make a fuss. True, she lost the hand, but the game was still on. And the larger game of cat and mouse they were playing had just gotten underway. She uncrossed her legs from the desk and rose, walking around it with her hips switching dangerously. She sat on its edge, directly in front of him, pale hands curled over dark wood. Most men would shrink at such direct attention, but not Sebastian. He was prepared for every eventuality. And he didn't think she would try too hard to seduce him. After all, she wouldn't want this to go too far. She's not prepared to surrender herself completely. I only want her to admit that she wants to; that's surrender enough...for now. He leaned back and pursed his lips, eager to see what she would do. She tilted her head and lifted a stilettoed foot, slowly dragging it up the inside of his calf, pushing it along his inner thigh (conspicuously avoiding a certain very sensitive area) and moving it higher and higher until it came to rest on his chest. Alexandra wore impractical clothes when she wasn't chasing evil magicians. Sebastian was a man dedicated to aesthetics, and he secretly loved the absurdly high heels and form-fitting dresses (but was sure she'd stop wearing them if he confessed this). And right now, now he was loving the sharp prick of the stiletto as it pressed against his chest and the fact that he could see what was unmistakably a garter belt peeking out from under her now-lifted dress. She'd raised the stakes. Good girl. Very good girl.

"Take it." She nodded to the pump at the end of her foot.

"Are you inviting me to touch you?" She smiled. She knew if she gave him leave, he'd not be able to pry his hands off her. And I'll win.

"Just this once." He nodded and circled her ankle with his ungloved hand. His touch was surprisingly warm, even through her stocking, and her mind flickered briefly to thoughts of how good that touch would feel on other parts of her body. His hand lingered there a bit too long, but he slipped off her shoe with his gloved hand and immediately let go of her foot. The shoe he placed neatly next to his chair, and then he looked up at her with mock innocence. He knew exactly what she was doing, but he refused to capitulate. No. She'll have to ask for it, he thought. I'll win.

She nodded, now aware of the exact nature of the game they were playing (and it wasn't a game of cards). It was a test of resolve, and a wager to see which one wields the more power in the relationship, and she'd be damned if she'd lose that game. So she switched back to her side of the desk, ostensibly nonplussed about his ability to resist her charms. I'll work harder. He lost the next two hands. The first of the losses saw the removal of his other glove (no longer with his teeth since that wasn't very effective). He shrugged off his jacket in the same casual manner and hung it on the back of his chair, and Alexandra was rather disappointed. I thought I'd get a show. He dealt the next hand with less aplomb than the two before it.

"You lose." Sebastian held his hand out for her other shoe and she hated the way he just assumed that she'd play it safe. She shook her head, stood up (one foot still firmly in shoe) and hiked her dress up by pulling at the fabric inch by inch. He thought that the dress was entirely too long, and it was his breath that caught as she finally pulled it over her breasts with a hearty tug. She'd put on black lace underwear and a matching bra (his favorite color). A garter belt held up black silk thigh high stockings, and he closed his eyes, imagining how it would feel to unhook the clips that held those stockings up with a small click as he deftly slid his hand around her thigh. She knew he was surprised, but he betrayed nothing, so she tossed the dress in his lap and sat back down, crossing her legs on the desk again, one shoe jerking back and forth in small, rapid movements. He recognized this nervous tick for what it was and smiled inwardly. He picked up her dress and held it briefly to his cheek before dropping it. "It's still warm. You always did run a little hot, master." She blushed but didn't turn away.

Sebastian had not expected that, and now he was quite undone. He stopped. He needed to think. She'd been quite hesitant about consummating their relationship, not wanting to be marked in such a way by a demon, and now he'd just given her free reign to tease him mercilessly. What if she wasn't prepared to finish what he started? What the hell was I thinking? If he was concerned about the way the evening was progressing, however, Alexandra never knew. He kept his mask in place meticulously. She, on the other hand, had gone from disappointed to extremely annoyed. She was sure he'd break if she stripped down to her undergarments, but there he was, looking at her with that look yet not saying a word, as if having women's clothing discarded in his lap was an everyday occurrence. Well, it probably is an everyday occurrence for him. He dealt the cards a bit more enthusiastically now, and his attention was the very definition of rapt as he looked over his cards. Glowing crimson eyes were traveling from her lips to her breasts and downward from there unabashedly. I guess I asked for that, she thought as she strived to place her cards in some semblance of order. The weight of his stare was making it difficult to concentrate.

He lost. His hand lingered on his tie knot, wondering how he'd make this most alluring. And then he leveled her with a gaze dripping with unadulterated sex. It was perfectly indecent, she thought, but endearingly over-the-top at the same time. She laughed. He joined in. It felt good to dispel some of the tension. And then she felt herself unclench, as if she'd suddenly become comfortable with the idea that she wanted this demon—no, this man—sitting in front of her with every fiber of her being. And really, haven't I always wanted him? He slid the tie out of his shirt with one slow movement and tossed it across the desk at her. It landed in her lap. She got up, trailing his tie up her abdomen and around her neck as she walked. He watched as it hypnotically made progress between her breasts. She sat down in front of him as she had before and held the tie flat in the palm of her hand. "This belongs to me now, right?" She kissed it, pressing the palm of her hand to her lips, and then tied it around her waist, remaining seated in front of him, her legs crossed seductively, and his tie in a sloppy bow at the side of her hip. I'll never be able to wear that again, he thought. He lost the next hand too, and as he brought his fingers up to the button of his shirt, she put her hand over his.

"Allow me."

"I thought you said no touching."

"You've an appalling lack of precision for a demon. I said you must be invited to touch me. I never said I couldn't touch you." She had one finger under his chin, and he was looking at her with his trademark smirk. That smirk disappeared as she straddled him in one quick motion, her hips grinding into him roughly as she adjusted herself in his lap. She put her arms around his shoulders, moving around far more than was necessary to do so. Oh my, she thought, he is very excited. He held his breath as she teasingly slid her lips up his neck with the lightest of touches. His hands curled around the edge of his seat, and he felt the wood give slightly under his palms. No touching. She was provoking him deliberately, writhing around like that, and he realized in that moment that she had lowered all her defenses, and that if he played his cards right (quite literally), she'd allow him to possess her completely. She ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it gently and pulling his head back so she could push her lips along his jaw. He was concentrating very intently on not grabbing her by her hips and taking her against her own work desk. "In fact"….her fingers undid the first of his shirt buttons with a soft pop…"I"….pop…."can touch"...pop..."you"….pop…."any"….pop…."where"….pop…."I'd like"….pop. She pushed open his shirt, slid it off his shoulders, and started sucking and licking at his neck hungrily as fingernails scratched lightly across his chest. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, sighing with undeniable pleasure. His own fingernails scraped along the underside of his chair. How long had he waited for her to respond like this? She trailed wet kisses down his chest, biting gently at his nipple, her hands now pressing him back into the chair. Finally, she fell to her knees between his legs, her fingers raking up and down both thighs. This is either a very good or a very bad development, he thought. And then, she leaned in and tugged at the waistband of his trousers with her teeth. He gasped, and no smirk of his could hide the fact that he was miles away from gruntled when she got up abruptly and licked his shocked mouth once with her too wet tongue before asking, "Isn't that right Sebastian?" Alexandra resumed sitting on top of the desk, legs crossed, examining her fingernails boredly while waiting for his answer.

"Indeed it is." He said it smoothly, visibly recovered, but she knew that his composure was only barely being held in check. Their little charade was quickly coming to an end. A few more hands and one of them would break.

It was expected that she'd lose the next hand. Luck had been with her far too long, after all, and she did not consider herself to be a very lucky individual. She slipped her hands behind her back, unhooked her bra and held it out before letting it drop to the floor. Sebastian thought that he'd like to drag his tongue along her very exposed nipples as he pulled at her hair, but he remained seated, desire burning away in his eyes (and everywhere else). She lost the next one too, and to his disappointment she removed her remaining shoe and placed it beside the one she lost earlier. She was now left with stockings, garter belt, and panties, and Sebastian mentally lamented the fact that women's undergarments were far too numerous to be fair for a game of strip poker. And who the hell wears stockings and a garter belt around the house? He would have been quite put out if she had not lost the next three hands in a row.

"I must be unlucky tonight." She slipped her last stocking off her leg by placing her foot on his (still trouser-ed) thigh and rolling the silk down her leg with smooth, practiced strokes. Her toes were digging into his flesh, and he followed her hands' progress, his eyes glowing fiercely as she tossed the penultimate item of clothing on his naked chest. He pulled it off himself and dropped it to the floor. He'd have to lose the next hand to even the score, but as it was, luck had completely abandoned Alexandra that evening. I suppose that's what I get for teasing him so badly. She stood up and leaned back against the desk. His eyes were fixed on the lace undergarment resting at her hip. It was over. He leaned back and smiled his devil's smile. He pointed to her.

"I believe those belong to me."

She smiled. "And so they do." Moving closer to him, she placed one leg in front of the other, displaying the way the lace contrasted with the pale skin of her hip. "Come and claim them."

"No." She stared in shock. This unimaginable bastard. I'm going to order him to gouge his eyes out. "I'm not going to touch you." She prepared to walk away, but he moved in a flash, his hands gripping the edge of her desk on either side of her nearly naked body. He carefully took the fabric of her panties in his teeth and tugged at them long enough to crook a finger inside the lace. She adjusted her leg so that he could slide them down, still not touching her skin. She stepped out of them, wondering what he'd do next. Her no touching rule would certainly be a hindrance. "I'm going to taste you. Every bit of you. Starting here." He kissed her then, urgently, his tongue flicking in and out of her mouth with expected expertise. He pulled her bottom lip between his lips and gently bit it. The sensation was enough to have her gripping the edge of the desk, wishing he'd put his hands on her. It was his turn to trail kisses down her body and she writhed and shivered as she felt tongue on skin, followed by teeth and lips. He was a demon, after all, and so he felt like nothing she'd experienced before. Electricity charged her flesh and each press of his lips to her skin caused the ground to shift beneath her feet. He chuckled against her skin. You're not bored now, are you master? Her back arched suddenly when he bit her nipple, arms and legs flying out from underneath her like an explosion. She slid back on the desk so that she wouldn't fall, but she made the fatal mistake of not keeping her legs pressed together. She tried to rectify this, but Sebastian was far too quick for her, and when he slid his long tongue along her most sensitive of areas, she nearly screamed. His hands were still firmly on her desk and not on her body as she dissolved into a writhing mess under his tongue. He continued his ministrations, making her lose any and all control. She was making small whining sounds in between sharp gasps, her heart a-flutter like a hummingbird's, and her hands were slipping through his hair desperately. He heard it all, and he greedily drank in every sound wave of ecstasy. This is almost as satisfying as devouring a soul, he thought. She felt the tension coiled low in her abdomen, and she was sure she'd go crashing into orgasm at any second because all indications were that he was not. going. to stop. But then suddenly he did, and all she could do was moan in disappointment. She was flushed and breathy, but still managed to look at him like she'd like to wring his neck. Sebastian was quite impressed.

"You utter bastard."

"Oh, I was prepared to finish what I started, but I believe you asked me not to touch you, yes?" He looked at her, naked and stretched out on her desk and decided that this scene had been worth the wait. He'd never seen her so deliciously vulnerable. She seemed angry, but the knowing smirk now spreading across her face told him that she was conceeding his victory. He licked his lips. Slowly. He was making a show of tasting her. "I want you to say it." I want to know who wields the power here.

"Sebastian, please..." she'd reserved her breathiest, sexiest voice for this part. "...touch me."

His hands curled around her waist then, strong arms gripping her tight as she undid the button and zipper of his trousers and pushed them down his hips and thighs along with his boxers. He released her briefly to get them off, but his hands were again traversing her body in a flash, leaving searing heat in their wake even though they moved with gentle pressure. She thought he would be more hungry in his manner if she gave him the freedom of touch, but he was all light sweeps of hands and brief kisses along her body. This is unexpected. Her legs wrapped around him impatiently, knowing that he'd be an attentive and gentle lover despite all his aggressive foreplay and insatiable need for ownership. He did not disappoint, and before he took her, he looked down at her with more than lust (concern maybe?).

"Are you sure? Demons are...different from humans. I will hurt you, even though I will endeavor to be gentle."

"Yes, I'm sure." She placed a reassuring palm against his cheek. "I want you to."

He kissed her sweetly at first, patiently increasing the pressure between their bodies before he entered her. She cried out against his mouth, but wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him, and he knew that she wanted him to continue. He remained still, waiting for her breath to slow and giving her body time to adjust before he started moving in long, slow strokes. Not having been able to run his hands along her the way he'd like in the last two years, he took this opportunity to touch her, to feel every inch of her skin slide beneath his fingertips as he increased the speed of his thrusting. She'd relaxed under him and he could see that the pain had given way to small spasms of pleasure flitting across her features. She was biting her bottom lip in exactly the way he'd expected. Her flesh puckered as his hands moved, and tiny beads of sweat covered her body, making her look like she was glowing in the firelight. She was breathing in shallow gasps and her eyes were tightly closed. He kissed them, feeling the tickle of her lashes on his lips. With a demon's keenness he could sense the irreversible tension that was beginning to build in her body. She tightened around him and he growled, gripping her long curls and pulling her head back gently so he could have better access to her neck. Finally she shuddered violently, calling his name as she came, digging her nails into his back. He was sure she'd drawn blood, but the resulting sensation was anything but painful. Mine, he thought wickedly as he continued his movements, each thrust bringing him closer to his own release. He climaxed soon after and he licked his lips again as he did so, savoring the heady combination of sweetness and sin. All mine.

"Are you alright, master?" he asked after their breathing slowed. Sebastian thought she looked somewhat unsteady.

She laughed. It was a genuine laugh, devoid of her usual grim satisfaction or sarcasm. "I'm much better than alright. You're quite the virtuoso, in fact." She blushed when she said this, although she recovered quickly (but not quickly enough to escape his notice). "But given what just happened, I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable with you calling me master."

"I applaud your attempt, but you were never entirely comfortable with me calling you master," he smiled and took her chin under his finger, not wanting to miss the flush of color fading from her cheeks. "I rather like it. Seeing you uncomfortable is very amusing, you know." He kissed her briefly.

She rolled her eyes. "You're not going to stop, are you?"

"Not without your order." He smirked; she'd never give that order. She craved challenges, after all. "You do make a fair point, though. If you'd prefer I can call you something else while we're...in flagrante delicto. I have a few ideas you might like. And trust me master, after tonight, I am acutely aware of what it is you like." His eyes shone as he grinned at her. She blushed again and looked away. It really was very indecent-sounding when he purred it like that.

"Shut up." He laughed. This was a side of his master he'd seen perhaps once or twice before, and it was completely incompatible with her typically steely reserve. She'd be this way only with him and only in the most intimate of contexts, he realized, and he felt a small tug (almost imperceptible) in his chest where his heart ought to have been.

He could see that she was exhausted. Her body was limp, and he wrapped her legs around his waist so that he might carry her to the bedroom. Abandoned playing cards were stuck to her sweaty back, and he peeled them off her skin while kissing at her collarbone, the both of them laughing softly. He slipped his arms around her and lifted her up easily, intending to continue tonight's entertainment upstairs. Her dangling leg knocked over the chair he'd occupied as he carried her past. It fell backwards and another deck of Funtom Playing Cards spilled out of the inner pocket of the suit jacket he'd thrown over it earlier in the game. She looked at them, eyebrow quirked in a high arch, and then eyed him inquiringly. Not good, he thought. He sighed, resigning himself to the worst, but he did not put her down. Instead he pulled her tighter to him and touched his lips to her shoulder ever so briefly. Her warm weight against his chest was soothing (but he'd deny that demons need or enjoy soothing). She'd have to hear him out if he kept her trapped. He waited for her to order him to release her. But she did no such thing. She continued looking at him, clearly awaiting an explanation. "I cheated." Sebastian certainly wanted everything that had happened in the last few hours (and had contrived to get it), but he wasn't sure if he wanted to trade her trust for it. He might have ruined two years' meticulous cultivation of her soul for a night's pleasure. That was uncharacteristically careless. She'd have given herself up eventually. Her distrust will undo all of my work.

"No."

"What?" He was in trouble now, he thought. She was going to make him gouge his eyes out for sure this time. They'd had a less formal master-servant relationship than most in his past. He was constantly testing her boundaries, pushing her buttons, and generally looking for ways to make her uneasy because he rather liked that he could affect her in such ways. She was ever-patient and ever-indulgent, most likely because she'd picked her battles with him long ago. This might have been crossing the line. Sebastian was no ethicist, however, and therefore he tried to find a way to disarm the situation quickly rather than analyze whether or not his actions were morally bankrupt.

"Precision, Sebastian. Must I repeat everything? You said no magic. You never said no cheating." She was looking at him reassuringly and smiling rather broadly for one who'd been duped in such a manner. She tightened her arms around him and nuzzled his neck.

"You're not angry with me?" This time it was a question and he was surprised by her reaction.

"Have you ever met a demon that doesn't cheat? I expected you to have a few tricks up your sleeve." She laughed again. It was a tinkling and melodious sound, and he decided that he liked it quite a lot. "Surely you don't think that I walk around the house in stockings and a garter belt every day? How impractical."

He laughed. Very clever, master. "Well then, allow me to demonstrate more of my tricks." And with that, he carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.