Times This

06. Give

Lovers in the past might have called him giving, attentive, even selfless in bed, so focused on their satisfaction that he practically neglected his own. That concentration wasn't just for their sakes, but his own, since the last thing he needed was to lose control and snap some girl's spine when he came too hard.

Being with Trish is a revelation: She can't break, no matter what he does to her, how brutally he pounds into her or how deep he sinks his claws. She only groans and arches, pants yes and fuck and harder, and Dante's happy to oblige.

07. Hand

Trish doesn't react when Dante comes up behind her after the fight, reeking of blood and post-trigger brimstone. She discards a spent magazine as he tugs her back against him and pulls down her bustier zipper. His leather gloves glide oh-so-smooth over her firming nipples as he cups and squeezes, and his mouth is hot against her neck, teeth sharp as sin when he nips her, hard.

She arches slightly, breath catching, but keeps her composure, even when he whispers, lips teasing on her ear, "Having fun yet?"

She laughs, loads a fresh clip into her gun, and cocks it.

08. Compromise

It takes Nero to the end of the hallway to swallow his pride and admit that he should at least ask Dante for help stopping Sanctus, so he turns and stalks back into the chamber. And freezes.

There's Dante, and there's Gloria, and there's the column they're fucking against. Dante's open coat hides most of it, but there's no hiding her legs around his waist, thrown-back head and little gasps, or his hands on her ass, full-throated groans, the sharp, forceful thrusts.

Nero stumbles back, ricochets off the wall, and almost brains himself on a pillar getting out of there.

09. Chocolate

Dante has a vicious sweet tooth, and it doesn't take him long to convert Trish to the dark (chocolate) side. And the white chocolate. Milk chocolate, mint chocolate, peanut butter and chocolate (Hell help her).

Some days she doesn't know what she likes more: the sweetness, the salt of his skin underneath it, or his groans as she laps away drizzles of syrup from his abdomen, his navel, and his cock, tongue diligently tracing every muscle and groove to make sure she doesn’t miss a single drop.

Or maybe his yelp, when she pours the leftover syrup in his hair.

10. Deep

Blood in his mouth, iron and lightning. Scraps of leather and flesh on his talons. His fangs crash together when she throws another bolt, enough to fry a man from the inside out. Dante laughs, the sound hollow in his armored chest.

Clothes torn, skin streaked in red, but her smile is all challenge, fearless. She's fighting up until the very moment he pins her face-down, claws around her throat, her arms bound, thighs spread. She doesn't scream, even when he drives into her, hilt-deep, unrelenting, only says his name, a curse and a benediction in one short gasp.

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MassNinjaGaiden: Thanks for reviewing! These drabbles are mostly practice for bigger and better things.  A full D/T/L threesome is one of those things, but sadly, not here.