in Milady's chamber

Lust walked through the room silently, discarding clothing behind her in ripples of black silk. The only touch of colour was the red tattoo against her milky skin. Even so, she could still feel the detritus of the day's work on her; human dust, human filth, human weakness. She longed for the hot bath that was waiting for her just as she longed for Father's approval.

She moved the screen aside and began to step down into the bath, then paused. The water was red.

"You took your time," a familiar voice said. Greed was lounging next to the bath, his shirt and trousers brown with dried blood. He lowered one hand into the water, and more red tendrils began to spin outwards as the hot water washed away bloodstains.

"Filth," Lust spat at him. "That was my bath."

"Oh, go stab something else." He yawned, then smirked up at her. "Unless you want me to do some stabbing with something a bit fleshier?"

"Bah." She stepped into the bath, ignoring him. The red-stained water rippled around her legs.

"My, my," he said, amused. "You are hardcore."

"You don't know the half of it." She went down gracefully to her knees, ignoring his eyes, and cupped water in her hand, pouring it over her shoulders and breasts.

"Want me to make love to you?"


"Want me to fuck you?"


"Want to fuck me?"

"How many times are you going to ask me the same question?"

"Till I get an answer that suits me." He smelt of ashes and sweat.

"Get on your knees and I might think about it."

He laughed.

"Fine." She lowered herself to her shoulders, floating forwards so that her hair trailed behind her in the water.

"Lust," he purred, leaning in towards her. "Pretty sister. Won't you come out of there and let me make you scream with ecstasy?"

This time she laughed. "You?"

"You have no idea."

She rose out of the water till her breasts were floating on the surface, her hair trailing down her back in sodden tendrils. "You couldn't keep up."

"Ultimate endurance, honey. I can keep it going longer than you can."

"Get your clothes off," she said huskily, "and we'll see."

He stripped casually, kicking his dirty clothing off and throwing it behind him, then leaned back onto his elbows again. "Like what you see?"

"Oh, we're all pretty, except for the ones of us that aren't." She pulled herself out of the water. It ran down her perfect skin to puddle on the floor. "Now lie back and let's see if you live up to your boasts."

"I was thinking --"

"Don't think." She knelt next to him and bent over his groin. Her wet hair lay heavy and slick on his stomach and legs.

Greed smiled and reclined, folding his hands behind his head. "Sister," he said, voice heavy and uneven, "you could at least let me play with your breasts. Your lovely breasts."

She said nothing. Her mouth was occupied.

"You're good at this. But I'm better. I -- oh yes, do that again with your tongue. I . . ."

He broke off. "Not there," he gasped, squirming on the wet floor. "Not up in there, I'm not --"

"But you feel so soft and vulnerable in there," Lust murmured, raising her head for a moment. Her free hand slid between her own thighs. "And it's getting you hot, isn't it? To feel me there, to know I could put my Spear in there while I'm doing this to you . . ." She lowered her head again.

"I -- oh shit -- Lust, don't -- all right! You win! You win, don't stop, don't . . . ah . . ."

Lust's own breathing came harder and faster as he spoke. She shuddered at his words, whole body tightening then relaxing as he spasmed.

"Bitch," he said sourly, when he had his breath back.

She looked up at him from the shadows of her hair, her skin like poured cream, her lips red as blood. "Was it good for you too, darling?"