[ Ruby's definitely amused at the sheer intensity of his reaction. His wings are clearly far more sensitive than she might have guessed, probably something to do with the fact that they're a manifestation from his true form and not the human body that he's trapped in. She might as well have been stroking his dick going by the noises he's making and the apparent flush spreading across his skin, and her eyes briefly flick down to his pants, which aren't really hiding anything from her at the moment. This is too good not to take advantage of while she considers her options. There are three very distinct avenues she could take from here, after all.
She rolls her eyes at his defiance and gives his feather another, even sharper tug in order to yank it loose from his wing. She rather expects that he'll tolerate that pain better than the pleasure he's deriving from her soft, smooth touches. He's being such a good little crusader, refusing to break no matter how much torment they've inflicted on him. She's seen that look before, she's had that look before, it's a stage that most people seem to hit at some point after they've settled into the routine of their torture.
But everyone has a breaking point, and the weak point where he'll break is all too obvious.
She decides not to pursue the Heaven angle just now. It's a selfish thing, but she's more interesting in taking a shot at his favorite Winchester and his own arrogant angelic views in the process. So she hums thoughtfully, rocking back slightly on her heels while using the soft tip of his plucked feather to trace delicate lines along his neck and chest, all the way down to the waist of his pants and then playfully across the surface of that strained fabric. ]
You say demon like it's the worst insult in the world, but you know that your boy Dean has a lot in common with me, right? Or have you just decided not to think about it?
[ She pauses, looking back up to his eyes. If he has thought about it, she's sure that he has some kind of justification for drawing the lines where he has, and she's genuinely curious as to how that works. She's sure that it's more likely that he hasn't questioned it - Dean's alive, good enough, right? Something like that probably. And yeah, she's a little annoyed with the high and mighty attitude from an asshole that has no idea what it's like to be human. ]
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She rolls her eyes at his defiance and gives his feather another, even sharper tug in order to yank it loose from his wing. She rather expects that he'll tolerate that pain better than the pleasure he's deriving from her soft, smooth touches. He's being such a good little crusader, refusing to break no matter how much torment they've inflicted on him. She's seen that look before, she's had that look before, it's a stage that most people seem to hit at some point after they've settled into the routine of their torture.
But everyone has a breaking point, and the weak point where he'll break is all too obvious.
She decides not to pursue the Heaven angle just now. It's a selfish thing, but she's more interesting in taking a shot at his favorite Winchester and his own arrogant angelic views in the process. So she hums thoughtfully, rocking back slightly on her heels while using the soft tip of his plucked feather to trace delicate lines along his neck and chest, all the way down to the waist of his pants and then playfully across the surface of that strained fabric. ]
You say demon like it's the worst insult in the world, but you know that your boy Dean has a lot in common with me, right? Or have you just decided not to think about it?
[ She pauses, looking back up to his eyes. If he has thought about it, she's sure that he has some kind of justification for drawing the lines where he has, and she's genuinely curious as to how that works. She's sure that it's more likely that he hasn't questioned it - Dean's alive, good enough, right? Something like that probably. And yeah, she's a little annoyed with the high and mighty attitude from an asshole that has no idea what it's like to be human. ]