A shift of movement. A gentle stroking hand. Fingertips playing along pampered fur. Asmodeus was the epitome of relaxed, the essence of calm. Every curl of his hands was heated with unnaturally black fire, but he held it in check, using it to warm the animal beside him rather than burn the flesh off its bone. He didn't feel the need to hurt it. He figured the sheer fact that Fifi liked him hurt Lust herself.
The dog was cute.
Lust's anger was cuter.
"So rude," he whispered, more to Fifi than to Lust, then cut his eyes back towards his Sin with a look darker than anything he'd yet given her. It was reminiscent of the old days, just before he had descended and left Lust to her own devices for the time he had. It was cold. It was deadly.
"Come here." The words weren't spoken; they were purred. There was a tone beneath them that reached inside his own black soul and tugged at the little string that connected himself to Lust. It twanged, pulled tight, then spiraled inward, shortening the invisible leash, drawing her nearer.