Her lips yielded beneath his and Vayne could scarcely recall a time where he'd felt such a fever of lust. It put a rush in his veins like a Quickening. He rolled his jaw into the kiss, feeling her breath shuddering in her mouth, still warm and thick from their spar - and barely holding back the words she doubtless wanted to say. Stop it. Let go of me. I hate you. It was all he could do to keep his breath a quiet seething hiss in his throat, rather than the groan it wished to be.

Vayne held the kiss a moment longer before his lips lifted from Tifa's, and now - now that familiar dark gleam was back in his eyes. He turned her face to curve her neck back, and then dropped his lips there, laying a breathy kiss on the hollow of her throat.

"You hate me so much, don't you."

The hand pinning hers down released it, skating down the length of her bare arm to her shoulder. Then his fingers closed around the strap of her blue dress, forcing her arm back to her side as he tugged the cloth roughly over the curve of her shoulder, as crudely as if they were coupling drunkenly in some Balfonheim tavern. Vayne pulled it past her collar and down to the flat plain of her belly, baring the mound one full breast to the night air - and to the cold fire gleaming in his eyes.

"Don't hide it, Tifa." Vayne's fingers closed around Tifa's breast like the handle of a sword, rolling it slowly on her chest, his lips following the heat of her neck to that small, beating pulse. "Show me that hatred. Succor me with it...so that I can drive it from your eyes when I take you."