If it was even possible, the look in his eyes hardened, darkened to blackest black. The heat in the room faltered, swayed, and evaporated completely, leaving everything in a blanket of chill. All semblance of warmth had shrunk to a single, center focal point: Asmodeus himself. His body heat flared, those midnight flames curling slowly up his body, dripping off of him like oil, slipping and sliding along the bedsheets and comforters. The dog whined, then scuttled away, and a single heartbeat flew by. Deus smirked, something distant and unreachable, and then he disappeared. His body was engulfed fully in black Hellfire, burning him up, and before he could even blink he was gone, leaving only a few stray tendrils of dirty, dark fire licking along the bed.
And then he returned, a man-shaped burst of black flame materializing just in front of Lust. The fleeting smirk that had graced his lips just before his little disappearing act was still there, inches from the Sin's face. Everything around them was cold, but Asmodeus himself was blistering hot. He tugged on Lust's strings relentlessly, then snapped his arm upward and wrapped his hand around her throat.
Violent. Furious.
Aroused.
"Bitch," he whispered, the word rolling off his tongue fondly. "My little bitch." He squeezed, tightening his grip, then jerked upwards and tugged Lust off the ground, until she was eye-to-eye with him, standing on tip toe. His fire shuddered, then raced up his arm, hot and burning, no longer a comfort or a pleasure. It was boiling hot oil dripping onto the tender flesh of Lust's neck. It was dirty. It was tainted with fear and a desire so convoluted, Asmodeus' intentions alone would have been enough to draw nightmares in the fabric of another's imagination.
"As endearing as your attitude has been, I think it's high time you learn your place." With each emphasis of words, his grip tightened until he had cut off her air supply entirely. He held her there. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Over a minute. Close to two minutes. The sadism in his eyes only seemed to grow, the press of his fingers bruising, the fire blistering.
And then he let up. Just a little bit. Just enough for her to draw in a ragged breath. He leaned forward in the same instant, his tongue peaking out to circle around her lips in a slow, methodically seductive movement.
"Beg," he whispered along her skin. "Beg for release like the little bitch you are."