Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Forty-One

*Future Author: this is a recreation of the original scene that I accidentally removed. It's a bit of a reinvention but I hope it'll suffice ^-^ *

Breath lodged in his throat, Damian searched Raven's eyes for silent confirmation. Hers- brilliant, fluctuating whirlpools of demonic grace- were fixed to his. They flickered their response and the two of them rose to the gentle hum of the violin. Hypnotic, their feet followed the delicate strums and soft beats. Damian's hand rested comfortable on her waist, her's on his shoulder, each leaving a searing brand as they swayed. The free hands were tenderly clasped.

Raven wondered at the way they intertwined so perfectly.

The boy exhaled and mint wafted towards her: his head was so close, this were his lips. His skin like cinnamon and lips like morning dew, Raven found him awfully kissable. She buried her eyes in the whiteness of his shirt, abashed. Daring a look up at him, Raven found his eyes never to have left hers as they traversed the room, a whirling dervish dancing truth to their faith.

The two were deaf to all in the world but the music, guiding them between society's glittering puppet-masters.

Damian clung to Raven, closer than close, in fear of not drowning in her irises. A great thundering had taken a hold of his heart; she was so close, her chest pressed to his, and he was certainly that she could feel the rapid pulsing. Throat dry, Damian wet his lips in the fear that they were shrivelling due to the heat that had been cranked up beneath his skin.

The two were creatures of sin- primarily, of pride.

The ornate gentry preyed on them with hawkish eyes greedy for their youth. Their friends and associates watched their delicate trail around the ballroom raptly.

Pride had an audience.

Damian allowed his eyes to tear away from her demanding dark lips and to the surrounding states. Envy, envy, intrigue, and...lust...was that?

With his gaze parting, seeming to take the heat off of her skin, Raven was free for a moment to observe their bedazzling audience. And certainly, she too saw the intrigue and the lust and the envy. And Pride loved it.

Their regards snapped back frontwards with the electricity of Zeus's master bolt. The softness in Raven's face drifted away, replaced by an image of poised demonic excellence. Damian's lips threatened a smirk as his eyes hardened.

He'd read Bram Stoker's Dracula many times before, perhaps for the first time, he finally understood the meaning behind the incessantly used word, 'voluptuous'.
By Satan and Beelzebub and Lucifer and the lot!- she moved like liquid night. He wanted her with a sweeter desire than any revenge he'd ever sought.

With a quicker step to the music, the demoness was dipped, a hand supporting her waist as Damian leant over her. They slowly pulled up together and Raven spun between his arms and his chest. She missed his warmth in the milliseconds that she parted from Damian, turning at the behest of his hand.

He had a smile like holy hell and the scent of warm spice- and by Azar she wanted him.

A small, pleading something in his eyes gave her the signal. They'd spent time enough playing the public spectacle. It was time to make their escape.

Raven and Damian darted through the crowd and broke through to the empty corridor. He was then against the wall, her arms around his neck, their lips melded together. Upon breaking apart for a second of air, Raven gasped, "Upstairs?"

"Upstairs." He agreed.

***
FUTURE AUTHOR:

Yeah I've removed a sex scene here. I'm really really uncomfortable with the level of detail and intimacy I put in to this. I honestly regret the decision entirely of putting a sex-scene here AT ALL.