ten_of_swords | (no subject)

(no subject)

They'd been out on the strip most of the evening.

Dinner (so much food!), dancing, walking and talking, even a show at the MGM Grand.

Now, with his hand resting on her lower back, Ruin escorts Mary Anne into the lobby of Caesar's Palace. The casino was in full swing as midnight approached, and he kisses her shoulder.

"Ready to test our luck, Legs?" he asks, breath hot against her skin.

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She looks at her cards--Jack and King, and of no real use. She gestures for another card.

"Le grande. The lady has nine."

She smiles; not a bad way to open things. She likes this game already.

Ruin pulls up an extra chair and sits, remaining quiet, but aware.

"Have you ever played the game before?" he murmurs, breath teasing her ear as their champagne is topped off.

"You're distracting me," she singsongs softly as she places her bet.

"And no, although I watched enough spy movies to figure out the rules."

He chuckles, his hand moving under the table to tease her thigh through her clothing.

"Am I?"

She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, ostensibly concentrating on her cards.

"Mhm."

She stands with six.

Concentration is a lot of fun.

His hand moves higher, a little further inward.

"Good hand?" he asks. Ruin was not a card player. His choice was chance, every time.

"Not bad."

She takes a sip of champagne; one of the other players asks for a third card.

"Depends on how things turn out."

He finish his glass, allows a second refill, then puts his cold hand back on her upper thigh.

"Always depends on how things turn out, Legs."

"Could have been better," she murmurs.

She loses to a man with eight, nodding graciously when he rakes in the pot.

The next hand--Queen and an eight. She places her bet.

"This, though...this is good."

His thoughts echo in her own mind.

Queens are always good.

She bites back a smile.

"Raise."

Pity they don't have value in this game; she'll have to do as a good luck charm.

They hold plenty of value in my game.

To make his point clear, his hand finally travels to the midpoint of her trousers, fondling her casualy through the fabric.

She doesn't turn her head, but her eyes shift very slowly to look at him.

If I lose all this money because you're...distracting me...

She sighs (in relief?) when she wins this hand.

No pun intended.

If you lose it, ya lose it.

He teases her lightly, looking intensely at the card table and the faces of the players.

I somehow doubt I'm all that distracting.

Yes, but I like it.

The next round of cards and betting begins; she really shoudld win just on account of her poker face.

Then you have no idea.

Her poker face is rather amazing.

Then you will have to clue me in, sweets.

His eyes move from her cards to the various players' faces as his hand moves between her legs lazily.

She gestures for another card.

Beneath the table, her foot twitches despite her effort to maintain control.

I'll be able to make it another few rounds at best before excusing myself to go pin you against the nearest wall.

Is that a promise, or are ya just teasin', Legs?

He debates ruining her trousers by ripping the seam of her crotch.

Then he just does it.

You need to start wearing dresses.

A very soft gasp is her only sign of shock.

You owe me a new pair of pants.

She places a bet.

And if I had, you saying you wouldn't have found an excuse to tear it off me anyway? You are...hell on my wardrobe...

Her teeth sink into her lower lip, visibly concerned about the outcome of this round.

I'll replace them with a nice, voluminous skirt.

He orders something a little stronger than champagne this time around, then turns back to the game.

Aren't you...sweet.

There's a momentary lull while the cards are shuffled.

She steals a sip of his drink when it arrives.

"After this round, wanna go try our luck at the wheel?" he murmurs, slipping his hand from between her thighs finally. "Have a couple lovely, potent drinks and see where the... bal.. lands?"

"Forget waiting."

She stands, gathering her winnings and excusing herself from the table. She takes Ruin's hand and leads him away.

Casinos are designed to be mazes that keep people in; Mary Anne's not concerned with leaving, she's just looking for a secluded dead end.

Her luck holds; their odds of getting interrupted here are low, which means she can make good on her promise. She hooks one leg around his, pinning him to the wall and kissing him roughly.

"Wicked, wicked tease..."

He returns the fierceness of the kiss, pulling her tight against his body.

"You know it, and you love it," he growls, biting along the column of her neck. "Too bad about that rip in your slacks..."

His hands travel down her back to cup her buttocks roughly, thrusting lazily against her in return.

She gasps, letting her head fall back.

"Too bad. You and your ah hobby of shredding my clothes."

She rocks against him, nails raking lightly over the back of his neck.