"Wanda," he drawled, his face fixed stern with a coolly raised brow, mouth parted as if prepared to rebuke her actions. Daimon's resolve was generally strong, as he was a firm believer of work before play. The flirtatious glances or "accidental" touching had always been fine with him, as it hadn't been too much to draw either of them away from what they wanted to accomplish. But Wanda’s wanton behavior was getting to be more frequent; skillful. Nine times out of ten, she was successful in peeling away his resistance. Sometimes he wondered why he even fought it, why he didn’t just deem the lesson over before it even started. But then he remembered that, he just...wouldn’t have been him, if he didn’t at least her challenge a little.
Even if she did always get her way in the end.
Tonight would be a little different, though. Smirking, he grabbed her gently by her wrists and leaned forward, forcing her to fall back in her chair. Daimon kept both of her hands pinned at the armrests and he hovered over her, mouth just inches away from hers. “It would be in your best interest to behave, Ms. Maximoff.” Moving to her ear, he whispered, “If you can’t, you won’t receive the night I’ve planned for you." Daimon drew back to face her again grinning, yet to release her. “Don’t think I won’t bind you to this chair. We will finish our lesson.”