She began to think that maybe, just maybe, she had been happier when he ignored her. The torment he put her through for days had left her jumping at every rustle or flicker of a shadow. Trickster would come from the darkness, caressing her, kissing her, then ask the same words and depart when she gave the same answer. He had done it for days and hadn't yet grown tired of his game. With her luck, he may never tire of it at all, and it was a cruel dance she was finding impossible to master.

If she could just convince him that she had looked for him out of submission, without having to verbally acknowledge that little detail, maybe he would fulfill her. It was a plan that even one of the idiotic clowns of her world would've easily known was ridiculous, but it was better than nothing.

Trickster had been easier to find ever since he had summoned the Innocent out of his world and into his own. She watched as he allowed the Innocent to take his scepter and play with the lights. Was he actually stupid enough to believe it was a scepter that contained that power, or that Trickster would so easily have relinquished it to someone as unimportant as he? She had seen how Trickster had watched the Innocent and worried that his sick games would lead him to corrupt the child merely because he could. It wasn't as if she cared what happened to the insignificant little annoyance, but any attention focused on another would take him farther away from her, and that she couldn't allow.

She waited until Trickster had left the child with the clowns and then climbed up to his perch where he watched the pathetic spectacle. She moved quietly behind him then reached out her hand to lightly trace her fingertips down his neck. She barely touched him yet he tensed at the contact. Before he could grab her, she turned him around so he faced her, and pressed her lips against his. If he was surprised, he certainly didn't show it. He just stood there and let her continue the kiss.

She opened her eyes and saw his looking back at hers with an equal intensity. Why wasn't he moving towards her? Why was he just standing there? Nipping at his neck, fumbling with the buttons of his suit and running her hands up his chest, nothing would make him move. He was as still and cold as ice, making no movement to either encourage or dissuade her. Those damned eyes of his continued to look at her with amusement and passion but they were the only part of him that felt alive.

Before she could lose her courage, she knelt in front of him and traced her hands up his leg through the cloth. He gripped the handles of the gate behind him hard enough that his already pale hands became bone white, but no other expression changed. Unbuttoning his pants and sliding her hand inside, she began to stroke him. She had grown used to the stillness when he surprised her by grabbing her hair, pulling it hard enough to make her yelp.

She paused, confused, when he finally spoke," Did I say you could stop?"

Warily, she continued, pulling his member out of his pants and stroking it harder. She kept hoping that he would give her some indication of what pleased him and what didn't, but wasn't surprised he had to make this difficult. Trailing kisses down his cock, using her hands to trace random patterns upon his thighs, she began to suck him. She wanted to draw it out and make him feel what he had done to her before, but he had other plans. Harshly, he pushed her head hard so she was forced to take every inch of him, wrapping his fingers in her hair and yanking painfully whenever she tried to move away to breathe. She began to run her tongue up and down his length, sucking harder, and heard him stifle a groan. Smiling, she chose not to show she had heard it, and tucked away the information for later used.

Trickster seemed in no hurry, and she knew they were both in clear view of anyone that would happen to look up. The thought only aroused her further, and she slipper her own hand beneath her clothes to bring herself to orgasm, not trusting him to do much for her despite it all. She moaned around his cock and moved quicker. Right when she was on the edge, he bent down and grabbed her hand and pulled it away, keeping both her wrists pinned above her so she couldn't find release. Frustrated, she almost left him there, but he reached his own orgasm and pushed her head down even harder so she was forced to swallow every drop.

She leaned back on her knees, breathless, eyes glazed over from the exertion. Without giving her a moment, he dragged her up on her feet and turned them so that she was pressed against the gate. He used his nails to rip through her clothes and pressed two fingers inside her, watching as she bit her own lip to keep from screaming. He pushed in another, this time hearing her groan, and picked up his pace as she writhed beneath his touch. When her voice neared to screaming again, he slowed just enough to stop her.

"I told you to beg for this," he whispered, not bothering to hide the chuckle in his voice.

She remained silent, and he jammed a fourth finger inside her, ignoring her screams.

He laughed at her and slowed down, allowing her desire to fall just enough so that she could bring it up again. Again and again she nearly reached her peak, and though words tumbled from her lips as incoherent babble, she never spoke the words that Trickster so longed to hear.

Bringing his fingers to his lips, Trickster licked them clean before adjusting his clothing and continued louder, "You really just want to make this harder on yourself, don't you?"

With a gesture, he repaired her clothing and straightened his own. He climbed down to the Innocent, resuming whatever play they had been at before. Fuming, she turned to watch him stalk away, and promised herself he'd be the one to beg the next time.