It wouldn't have felt so right without a vestige of defiance. Vayne almost, almost felt his usual smirk return to his face. Even in submission she was still trying to strike at him, reach that part of his mind he'd buried so long ago - the part that knew what it was to doubt. But it was lost, along with his collected demeanor, in the blaze of sensations weaving heat and tension throughout his body. Her eyes, glistening in the dark. Her breasts under his chest, still quivering to catch her breath. Her legs, draped over the edge of the bed and splayed on either side of his.

And the whisper of his name into his ear, from those two lips that he could not stop looking at.

His forearm lifted from her throat, and reached over to cradle her face with a touch that was almost affectionate...until it wasn't. His long fingers darted up, and wove through the dark halo of her hair on the bed, gathering its strands - and closed into a possessive grip, tugging her head back. Vayne's body hitched along hers, the pressure of his hips flattening hers to those royal covers.

And along the thigh of the leg he had struck to send her to this bed, another sort of pressure made itself known, beginning to bulge through his leather leggings.

"You are mine," Vayne whispered to the face he held captive, the face that had maddened him for two nights. "You will obey me. You will serve me whichever way I ask. I am your master now. And do you know what your master is going to do with you, Tifa?" His palm hefted her head from the covers, soft but firm, commanding, inescapable. The fire in him dispensed with eloquence.

"Your master is going to fuck you into this bed."

Vayne lifted Tifa's head from the covers, her face falling into the shadow of his, and pressed his lips to hers.