His smile was broad and pleased to her playful exclaim of relief when she passed his test. His smile bled into a laugh as he shook his head, and he... would perhaps be at fault of those assumptions more time than not. "Well, in their defense..." He pursed his lips. "Many mistake a young face for inexperience, doll. Lucky you, you have a knack of proving people wrong." One eye disappeared briefly in a wink, resurfacing again with a pleased hum for her praising of his tastes. "That's all I wanted to hear," he sighed, giving her a studious look that bled into a smirk.


She seemed to find the prospect of the cabin more endearing than off-putting and it only made his eyes flash with more of sulfuric nature. Her stroking of his ego had his shoulders visibly bristling, and he seemed to make a show of it like she was physically petting him. "Do I? Well, it pleases me to know I've been presenting myself correctly," he laughed easily, taking a slow sip of his Old Fashioned and rolling the liquid on his tongue before letting it scorch down his throat. "Pretty good?" His brows soared for a moment, just to reverse its direction in a low slope that came with the tilt of his head. His eyes swept over her, as if looking for any possible reason to take it easier on her. "So no twirling on the pole tonight, doll?" he teased, but shrugged one shoulder. "I have more uses than window shopping eye candy and making women scream," he feigned a pout, as if to think otherwise was offensive. It didn't last, considering his chuckling came a moment later to her talking of expensive wood. "We can propose a tab... perhaps build a payment plan over time," he smirked. He knew the apartment was from one of her other lovers, she'd mentioned it before to him. "I don't only take interest in money," he assured her.


The poking out of her tongue afforded his gaze, and his teeth promptly snapped in her direction like a warning shot. "You're just the right amount of demanding," he assured her with a wink. "I'm not opposed to being bossed around at times... if the mood calls for it," he snickered, his gaze shifting down to the finger on his chest, lingering a moment before his eyes scanned up to hers. His lips slowly spread into a devilish smile, reaching his free hand to catch her hand. "Be that as it may..." He purred, lifting her hand to brush his lips first, then graze his teeth over her fingers. "Too much flirtations may cause me to forget to take it easy on you," he teased her lowly, eyeing her until they narrowed in accusation. "Which... I will admit.. I am curious to learn on what happened to make you speak such blasphemy," he smirked, though there was no lacking in curiosity in his eyes as they swept her again.


"I'm sure you do...although I can't say I'm complaining about either." His warning about continued flirtation took her a moment, and then she let out a laugh of delight. "I understand...I don't think you're just a pretty face, sugar. Or at, least, not just a pretty face." The rest she filed away, for now. There would be more enough time to go into details and payment plans. And just when was a good time to be demanding.

Removing her hand from his shirt with a slight pout, she didn't answer verbally, at least not immediately. Lifting the hem of her sweater, she displayed a sparkling silver charm in the shape of a seal dangling from her navel...and a gauze 4x4 square placed at an angle along her ribs. "I decided I was doing so well in the rings I deserve a present. And, unfortunately... dueling sometimes leaves its mark. It wasn't at all what lay under that bandage... but it served well enough as a cover. "So no swirling on the pole, tonight...and maybe something a little less...energetic, than the other night. The patio is under some kind of bubble. And there's a fireplace. " She flashed up a devilish smirk of her own, and one jade orb disappeared for an instant behind thick lashes. "You can tell me all about your other skills. Interests. Whatever comes up."


"I'd be sorely disappointed if you complained about either," he feigned a frown, but couldn't keep the act when her laugh chimed and summoned the soft curve of a smirk to his face. Wider still when she spoke of him being more than just a pretty face. "As long as it's recognized.."

His eyes lowered when she retracted her hand, furthermore when she reached the hem of her sweater. His brow arched considerably, questionably. His head tilted to the dangling jewel at her navel, and his fingers reached out - not to touch the piercing itself, but the soft definition of curve at her abdomen just below the gauze bandage. "Hm. I do like this," he admitted, gesturing to the piercing. "It certainly draws attention without being too gaudy," he smirked, flicking his eyes to her then down to the bandage. His eyes narrowed slightly at it, as if wanting to see what was underneath. "Mn, that's quite alright. No point in repeating the same acts over," he chuckled lowly. But he seemed interested when she spoke of the patio and it's bubble, particularly the fireplace. "Good drinks... good company, a fireplace.." He trailed off to the wink, his laughter easy and genuine when she spoke of his interests and other skills. "That would take... a considerable amount of time, doll. But I could name off a couple," he compromised, smirking as he leaned forward to brush his lips over her cheek. A simple gesture, a brief contact.

"What do you say we get comfortable and chat, then?" His brows lifted, his hand abandoning her abdomen to reach into the box, snagging a bottle of Chivas Regal from the variety pack box on the counter. When his Old Fashioned ran out, he'd need the straight, untarnished liquor. "Though don't think you'll be getting off..." Pause, smirk. "Scot-free.. I do expect you'll grace me the same. I want to know what else piques your interest other than pole dancing, drink mixing and violent affairs," he chuckled. "Among other things.." He murmured more softly with a sweep of his gaze over languid curves. His head tilted toward the patio doors, taking a step in that direction.


Her skin rippled like a high-strung thoroughbreds beneath his touch, and she let the sweater fall, dragging her eyes up to his and letting out a breath. "I have all night. " Lashes fell as he leaned in, and the corners of her mouth just turned up, her head turning just enough to brush her lips along his jaw in response. "I like that idea. I can kick on the fireplace, we can kill that bottle and?talk... for as long as we both have breath." She sauntered out onto the well-appointed patio, complete with bar and hot tub...and, as promised, a padded all weather sofa, and a fireplace, which sprung to life with the press of a button. She resisted the urge to rub at the bandage...it itched something fierce.


Preceding him over to the couch, to let him enjoy the view, of course, she curled up, and held out a hand to draw him down, facing her but close enough that they could share the same air. As promised, even with the fire just starting, it was exceedingly comfortable outside. "And I wasn't expecting to get off without an even trade...shared pleasure, and all that. What makes you think that's not all I am though?" She was, but it was rare for anyone to see it.


"And I have nothing but time, doll," he chuckled lowly. "And breath..." he assured her. "So we may be here all week if that's the case," he teased her, his smile following her as she sauntered out. He let her go ahead of him, appreciating the view from behind without an ounce of shame or pretending he wasn't. Glass in one hand, bottle in the other, he followed her out onto the patio, his eyes pulling away from her rear end once the doorway was breached and he'd bled on through. His eyes lifted, then scoured the view and all it had to offer. "This is lovely," he hummed. "And you don't have to pay a dime," he cast her a squinted look. "Perks of the beautiful and lavish, darling?" He jested, a coy grin spreading on his face before he wet his tongue with the remnants of his Old Fashioned.


He took a moment longer to appreciate the view, all of them, really, as she settled in and he got there just in time for her to draw him in next to her. "See, there's that appealing demanding again," he purred out a sigh, seeming far from displeased by it. He tilted his knees toward her, close enough to be in her personal space without reaching hazardous limits of temptation for their talking to turn into something else. For now. Balancing his glass on his knee, he worked the cap off the Chivas Regal bottle , chuckling to her mention of shared pleasure. "Greed is appealing to a limit, but certainly not in pleasure, right?" he winked before he refilled his glass and glanced to hers, seeing if it needed to be refilled as well. Her question to his eyes to hers for a moment, his head tilting as his brows swept. "I've learned over the years... to never underestimate someone - anyone. Everyone has their secrets, doll. Dark, dangerous secrets, the kind that crawl in the depths of shadows. Be it an interest - a skill, with questionable ways of having found it - something we've done - something we want to do..." He smiled softly, the kind you'd expect just a glimpse of razor sharp teeth - yet there was none. "I have no doubt in my mind that you're more than you seem to be, just as you'd be of little mind to assume I am only as I appear to be," he told her, his tone low and deep, secretive and hushed. "More?" The abrupt shift of his tone was contrasting, the blase way he held up the bottle to offer her glass be refilled, casual as could be.


"A week...might be fun." Just because she wasn't looking for anything permanent didn't mean she wasn't doing her level best to distract herself to the fullest. "Thank you. And no, not really. The penthouse was a gift...and I seem to attract very generous friends. Who make sure I'm...taken care of." She rested her head against the cushions, and stared up at the sky. That gorgeous blonde hair spilled over her shoulders, leaving her throat and shoulder bare. "The kind of friends who like to have someone who can meet certain needs, look good, speak intelligently...sometimes...and, oh yes, cause endless jealousy among their friends and rivals. Please." She'd only finished about half her glass, not that it seemed to be doing much. Holding it out to him, she brought her head back, watching him from under thick lashes.


"And what about you? What are your deep, dark secrets? Hmm? What do you want to do...have you done? " She quirked a brow, and raised the glass to her lips, taking a long sip, delicate throat working as she swallowed scotch, and diluted bitters. Licking the hint of sweetness from her lips, she leaned forward as if she would run her fingers along his jaw again, and hesitated, then did it anyway. Clearly, the threat of his teeth wasn't enough to dissuade her. "I don't think being greedy with pleasure is a bad thing. The more the better, right? Or is that gluttony?"


He couldn't help the soft, genuine laughter. "After a week of being around me consistently... you'd be begging me to leave, for one reason or another," he smirked, and it could go either way, really. He'd either drive her absolutely nuts, or be too insatiable to handle. He'd dealt with both. He was safer to take in smaller doses. "It does seem that way..." He muttered, giving another lingering glance around to the penthouse patio, then looking down at himself. "You know how to pick them, and I wouldn't consider that a bad thing. It just means you have good tastes, correct?" He chuckled, then lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "There's nothing wrong with letting them take care of you. Some might call it a mooch, while I call it resourceful," he lifted a challenging brow at her before the curve of his smile turned devilish. "The former is often the term used by the envious." She'd said the magic word and he nodded, topping off her already half-filled glass but who was he to deny her more liquor? He was an everlasting enabler, after all.

With the glasses refilled, he leaned forward to set the bottle down on the ground, away from worry of being knocked over. Settling back into the cushions, he turned a bit more, lifting his arm to rest it on top of the back of the couch comfortably. She fired questions at him that didn't seem to overwhelm him, though he did give her a lingering look. "Some secrets should stay secrets, doll," he whispered, but he seemed stumped on what he wanted. What did he want? What did he not have that he could ever want for? The expression on his face said it would take some thought, and he lifted his glass to his lips for a swallow of burning liquor before smiling.


"I've done a great many things, some you may not believe," he shook his head, turning his eyes on her as she contemplated caressing his jawline again. He didn't seem to move, eyes narrowing as if wondering if she'd fall for the temptation - then she did. His chin turned, but there was a less aggressive grazing of his teeth over her thumb for her efforts.

It was the mix up that had him smiling delightedly, mirth twinkling in his abyssal eyes. "That would be gluttony, doll. Greed is selfishness, only wanting anything - and everything - you can get your hands on for yourself. Gluttony is overindulgence in virtually anything you can get your hands on," he purred, brushing his lips over her wrist as his eyes briefly closed with a turn and lower of his head. "You are definitely gluttonous...." He nearly purred before his eyes fluttered like forcing himself out of a trance to fix more alertly on her face. A deft subject change, his brows lifted. "I'm much older than I appear," he lifted his glass, "there's a secret for you." Then he took a sip, perhaps trying to distract himself.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he smirked against her lips. Naturally, he would. He enjoyed being the enigma others strived to figure out, what was Lust without Ambition, after all? The brush of her lashes brought a sigh from him, and his eyes lowered to meet her gaze. "What is reputation but biased opinion? I like to apply the celebrity's approach.. negative publicity is still publicity nonetheless," he chuckled, pausing to brush his lips over the ones she'd offered in the same fashion. He settled as she drew back, his eyes lingering on hers as his head turned to indulge himself in his drink. His lips stretched in a thin line, forcing his laughter at bay to her claim before he swallowed hard, nodding. "Right. Remain in the moment," he agreed, his chuckle finally unleashed.

"Time is irrelevant," he remarked offhandedly, distantly. Then, "I think you'll find - more than you have already - just how flexible I am, doll," he laughed easily, one lid lowering in a wink. "I pride myself in my ability to remain strong, no matter how thin you stretch me," he poked his bottom lip out in a feigned pout, as if she was using him - as if he was getting nothing out of it. As if he wasn't lying through his teeth. The pout redirected into a smile when she questioned his interests in the arts and he nodded to every question. "Literature, theatre, music, dance, the visual arts... though I must," he emphasized with a stern look, "implore you not to mistake - the fine arts," he laughed. "The modern idea of art is... presumptuous at best, with a few exceptions. The classics."

Then, she was stroking his ego and his lids lowered, the rumble in his chest resembling something of a purr. A lion's mane being stroked, and his claws were retracted. "Mn, carry on.." He smirked, then chuckled with a nod. "We do seem to have other common interests, to my surprise.." he eyed her, skeptical. "I was starting to think the times were lost to the latest generations of fads and trends.. with little style to remain. The world is smothered by the New Ages, and it's lost its class," he frowned, seeming very disturbed and disapproving of the matter. The frown was gone with the blink of an eye, a smile in its place. "It's good to know not all things were lost over time. I happen to be enjoying your company - outside of the bedroom." His brows rose as if it was a rare thing, a compliment of high standards.



"Oh of course. I don't really count anything past the early 1900's as art, as a rule..." She took another sip, the words a bit strange for one who looked as young as she did. "The good old days...when men knew the value of a woman who could not only leave them sated in the bedroom, but look good on their arm, and hold a conversation." She returned the glass to her lap, and reached with her free hand to toy with his buttons. Not with intent, but simply as an idle movement to keep her hands busy. "I've never been much for publicity. These days, the kind of men who tend to want a woman like me...don't want one who will attract more attention than they will. And I do remember how flexible you are. Among other things. "

She flushed, and ducked her head, one shoulder rising and falling in a half-hearted shrug. "I believe there was mention that we were both older than we appear. And you seem to have an idea...where that marque came from..." She pronounced the word as she had before. She'd learned, since coming here, that there were others who were as long lived as she was, as her siblings were...but she hadn't dared let that secret slip. They'd been hiding for so long. But of the few who'd noted that brand...only he seemed to have a clue. "And I yours. Which is...a pleasant change." Not that she didn't enjoy spending time with Mal, or Jordan, or Eune, or...the list could go on and on. But it was always a means to an end. This felt...more like building.



"Mn..." He held up one finger, "that's debatable. I was rather keen on the 1900's..." Squint. "Before the 1970's, once it hit the Disco Era, they'd lost me again," he snickered. They were humans. "I did rather enjoy the style of the 40's and 50's.. black and white movies, Hollywood before it became illiterate propaganda," he chuckled. "The Golden Ages.." He sighed, as if he missed it. "But you're right," he relented. "Art was best pre-20th Century," he agreed with a nod of his head. There was a soft exasperated groan of agreement, though. "It's so... underappreciated now.." He frowned. "There's little mystery these days, as everything is either a desperate plea for attention with little finesse, or.." He slid a sly smile to her. "There's little desire in the Jane of all Trades these days," he sighed, swirling his drink in his glass. "I happen to enjoy a woman who can keep up with all three of those tasks."

He wasn't quite sure what had his silver tongue so loose, but it was refreshing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a casual conversation with a woman - with their clothes on. There was a delicate balance of flirtations and depth that appealed to his senses, and he didn't blink an eye to the fiddling of his buttons, since the intent was offhanded, idle. He smiled when she flushed, his hand shifting to rake his fingers through her blonde locks. "I won't hold it against you, like good scotch... Women are better with age," he winked, then pointedly took a swallow of his drink, swallowing as he nodded. "I've been to France," he admitted. "A long time ago," he chuckled in the reverie. "I visit now and then.. but..it's not the same as it once was. Like all else, it's changed. But I remember this," he murmured, his fingers dusting over her marque. "The sentiments are shared, ma ch?rie."



She actually shuddered at the mention of that era. "Polyester. And free love...and somehow, also the growth of this idea that money and privilege should not come with some additional perks." She frowned, and then dispelled it with a laugh. "Europe always seemed to have more constancy in those things. Although I haven't been back to France for more than a ... business trip...in years." These, very clearly, were not the type that involved board meetings. More like...mergers. "Classic movies...people still dressing for the theater. Or dinner. When there were places one took the wife, and others one took the mistress." It was clear which one she'd been, more often than not. "Those were so much better than having to marry into it. Not that I don't enjoy destroying some sanctimonious families heir and scion...but having to pretend to be so innocent for so long..."

She nuzzled into his hand, lashes brushing his hand. It had been so long...too long...since she'd been able to speak so openly. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed it. "All things do, over time. It's hard to go back and see that time has moved on, while we still remember..." He kept playing fingers across the fleur, bringing her thoughts back to then, and now. "So how do you know about it? I can't imagine you doing anything to have earned it..." She couldn't keep the laughter under wraps, and it bubbled up as she finished. She could absolutely see him as the type to cause trouble...but was just as likely to have talked his way out of it. Another sip, another swallow...and she wondered, idly, if perhaps their paths had crossed...



An unpleasant shiver raked down his spine as she noted some of the worst of the time. "Please... no more.." He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut as if talking of it was going to give him a stroke... or maybe an aneurysm. Sure, he couldn't exactly get either of those things... but it was a risk talking of that era! His eyes opened with a relieved sigh when she moved on to speak of Europe, his favored of continents, and one he sorely missed. His lips spread into a knowing smile the way she hesitated on her terminology and he chuckled. "Naturally... it is the romance capital of the world..." Then squint. "Though is rivaled with Italy..." He purred. "Yes. There was a particular code of style back then, and elegance...." He trailed off when she made note of two different categories, unable to hold back his laughter. "Oh yes, and you did not make the mistake of intermingling the two.... unless, of course, the wife was worth keeping..." He teased, snickering. Then, he seemed to stare at her for a lingering amount of time when she mentioned destroying sanctimonious families. "Mn, you just get more and more appealing just when I think it's not possible, doll..."

It was certainly one indulgence he had difficulty finding these days. There was plenty others that he abused on a regular basis, but it was a rare treat to him to delve into decident conversation. He nodded slowly in agreement to the sentiment. "The commercialization and tourism of my most favored countries are probably the most heartbreaking. England took a great blow over the times, and I find myself unable to withstand some areas for more than a few hours at best," he grumbled softly. The nuzzling of his hand as he played with the mark behind her ear, and her questions drew him back to revel in the now opposed to then. Though, only slightly. His chin lifted, reluctant in answering until she doubted his earning. His smile was wicked then, speaking otherwise. "Earn it? There was plenty," he whispered. "But they couldn't catch me fast enough. I may have an inkling... I still have a lengthy amount of time on you, doll," he chuckled, shaking his head but it wasn't boasting as much of an admittance. "I'm... medieval," he snickered, giving her a vague estimate of timeframe... that was a widespread amount of time, admittedly.



"Oh no..never. Although I can't say I didn't spend some time as a mistress in service to my lover's wife. Courts were known for such things, then. Of course, there were courts...then." She smiled, and turned her head just enough to slip his thumb between her lips for an instant. A reminder perhaps, of the things those lips could do...as if he might have forgotten. "I remember, once, having dinner with a Marquis and his wife...he was bedding me on the side, while my brother had his wife during regular carriage rides. I don't think anyone at the table knew, save Luke and I, of course. But that was....then." She grinned up at him, and lapped at the ball of his thumb. "And we've barely scratched the surface. Besides, it's only fair...you're rather appealing yourself. And the more we sit, and talk...the more magnetic. Don't you think?"

"I've stayed in the states, mostly...sometimes Russia, or Asia. The Russians still seem to have an idea...and of course, the French and Italians have never really lost it. It's just more subtle. Here though...here seems interesting. I haven't been here long, really. But I like it." She caught the word, and smiled. "Really? You seem such a renaissance man...or perhaps it's just that you appreciate the culture and ... understandings...of the time. But then..." And here she caught her lip between her teeth - she hadn't told anyone before tonight. But he was indeed older than she, by a few years..."I'm surprised you haven't asked why the marque is in such a perfect place for the intimate touch of a lover, but not easily found. Rather than the shoulder...or, even more awful places."



"It's sounds like you've had quite the story to tell, doll," he chuckled softly, mirth flickering like a candle wick in his eyes. "It was much more intricate back then, wasn't it? Exciting... the secrecy and conspiracy of affairs.." He hummed, his eyes turning on the lap she gave to his thumb and the gesture drew it toward her lips, tracing the corner of her mouth, the delicate slope toward the fuller portion of her bottom lip. "Sounds promising," he smiled, to having barely scratched the surface. It only stretched further as she fed his ego, as if he needed any more of that. "I couldn't agree with you more."

"I've been all over," he admitted. "I've resigned myself to the states as of late. But I've ventured through Europe, the Western countries. I've been to South America, Africa," he shrugged. "But nothing draws me to return like France. Italy. England. They hold a special place in my heart," he smirked. Or whatever's left of it? "This place, however," he sighed through his nose, tearing his gaze from her to give a look around in emphasis. "It's a... strange but exhilarating mixture of new and old. The streets of cobblestones that I remembered once, and the prosper of commerce that I can't help to admire in the New," he shook his head, bringing his eyes back to her. "Even the people are diverse, which is refreshing. You never know what to expect from one moment to the next. I may just find myself sticking around for a while," he chuckled, as if there was a possibility he wouldn't have.

He couldn't help his soft laughter when she brought up Renaissance. "I'm picky, and my tastes are a fickle kind of thing," he admitted. She made a point, however. His eyes ticked to hear ear - or more, what laid unseen behind it. "It would be dishonest of me to say that I'm not curious. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready, but if you're willing to share now to sate my curiosity..." He trailed off, his head tilting as he studied her, his brows ticking upward.



"The states have a certain...energy. But I think they miss something...there is a certain thrill to illicit affairs. The secrecy...the rush of stolen moments..." She rubbed her cheek against his hand, jade eyes luminous in the reflected firelight. "Heated glances across crowded rooms. Until...finally...it's all too much." She lifted her glass to her lips, the ice chilling her lips as she was nearly out of liquid. It had been far too long since she'd enjoyed a conversation so much. "So intense, and usually so fleeting. Which might be my favorite part. There's only been one person I've ever been able to maintain such a relationship with for years. So far."

"I certainly hope you do. And that I can maybe persuade you...if you're wavering. Intelligent conversation...with someone I share so much with...I can't tell you how rare it is. Besides, of course, your other talents..." She purred, and stroked her fingers along his thigh, the corners of her lips ticking as she leaned to set the glass aside for a moment. The story wasn't one she told often. "I was...16, when I caught the eye of a Duke. He was....60? 70? Who knows. Old. Although that seems strange to say now. I was young, and lucky enough to have been able to chose my patrons - so I refused him. He showered me with gifts, trying to buy my approval...but I had met the son of a Marquis with no money, but youth and vigor, and a silver tongue. So I kept refusing. People tried to warn me that the Duke was vindictive...and powerful. I ignored them. Finally, after a year, and a few public snubbings...he stormed into my rooms, and found me...with Francois." Her voice cooled, the heat of the anger long since burned away, but the cold core remained.

"A day later, I was arrested for being a woman of ill-reputation, and thrown in the Bastille. I wrote to Francois, begging him to ask his father to intercede...and got nothing but silence. He, it seemed, had quickly moved on to a woman of more suitable rank, and fortune, and conveniently forgotten me. In desperation, my brother got word to Louis of my plight - he was too late to commute my sentence, or undo the judgement. But the look on the executioners face when he swept into the dungeons, and insisted I be given a smaller brand, in a less obtrusive location." She tilted her head back to meet his eyes, looking, still, not terribly older than that girl of seventeen. "I don't know if you ever met him, in his youth - He was still adjusting to being Louis XV...and still with a regent. But he was stubborn, even then. And, apparently, I had made an impression. He stood, and watched, while the order was carried out. And placed the bandage himself before ordering me released, and reported dead of consumption. A chance to escape and build a new life." Shrugging, she let out a little laugh. "I'm talking far too much...."

"Do you mean to tell me you don't sweep every woman who catches your fancy into their beds the same night you meet?" She did not argue his points on women and age, certainly not here. She'd noticed a great many things seemed much more common here than back home. "I shall have to endeavor to keep you endlessly curious. I should hold back..." She'd been leaning closer, lulled by fire and the fact that she felt comfortable with him...strangely so. She hurt, although alcohol and company had dulled the brands pain, but it had been an eventful evening to say the least, and not at all what she'd expected. He hadn't denied her yet, and she was nearly certain if he did, he would do so mindful of her injury. Smiling, ever so sweetly, she took a bracing sip of her drink, and set the glass aside. Slowly, carefully, she placed her hands against his thighs, and slid forward, curling herself against his side with a kittens mewl. "No...and no. I've never known how to resist temptation, really, not for any length of time. Certainly not when its as devilishly attractive and exciting as you. And I think risk...danger...make everything more intense. I get the sense you agree..."

For all that...she hadn't moved, save to tilt her head back to see his face, and stretch one arm to reclaim her glass, which dangled idly from her fingers. "I do commit a great many sins....and having someone to...confess to...wholy..." She smirked, and brought the glass to her lips for a careful swallow. "Can only to give me more opportunity to sin that much more impressively, can't it?" Glass removed, she hid her face against his chest, hiding the giggles that bubbled up from her lips. "They sound like mine, although I have two brothers, and I suspect my sister would say the same of me. And no...I don't think we've ever been normal for a moment since our birth. Hard to, when there were four of us born together...and then the gifts began to show....and being bastards cannot have helped...." She was beginning to ramble, and she knew it.



"Every woman?....." He scoffed, lifting his chin and turned it away as if he took offense to it. "...Mmmostly," he admitted with a chuckle. "Some prove more difficult than others, but I've charmed my way into the beds of many women. It's a fraction of them that have been the same night," he snickered, lifting his drink to his lips. His eyes narrowed slowly on her, lips twitching with the threat. "Would you believe I even courted a few of them? Didn't even get to bed until months later..." He was an ambitious man, and he pursed his lips a moment in thought before the nostalgic, if not solemn look was gone in the blink of an eye, gone as quickly as it'd come. At least until he sputtered a delighted laugh and nodded. "Please, do so," he said about keeping him endlessly curious. "Such rarity in the years passing that I find myself intrigued," he pouted at her, as if it was his curse. Perhaps it was.

He eyed her as she drew closer, but didn't make a move to stop her. He was feeling indolent, pacified by expensive liquor, warm fire, and promising conversation. She was lulling him into a blissful state of dormancy with better effect than his favored lap dog, and she was particularly cuter and less wrinkly. Dozer was terrible for good conversation, too. The arm draped over the back of the couch shifted, bending at the elbow to allow him to rake his fingers through her hair once she'd fixed herself into the pocket of warm his torso and arm created. He chuckled. "Flattery will get you everywhere with me, doll. I'm much more inclined to tempt you further," he teased, peering down at her before he smirked. "You would be correct."

"I think you'd enjoy one of my sermons, but I'd be in a much more fashionable suit," he wrinkled his nose. "Though I much prefer this.." He gestured with a careful sweep of his glass. "Than a confessional stall and separated by a screen," his bottom lip poked out momentarily before he drew it back in to afford him a sip of his drink. "Though, should you feel so inclined to confess your sins to me, I'd be more than willing to listen," he winked to her, smirking when she hid her giggling in his chest. He chuckled hearing her talk of her siblings, "my siblings and I share the same father, but they have two different mothers. And me..." He tilted his head, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried to think of what next to say about it. Didn't have one? Was born of only one parent? Well... wasn't born per se... More of a? He shook his head, snickering. "Well, you call me a bit of a bastard I suppose." He shifted in his position some, his arm sliding from the back of the couch to slide gently behind her, curling until his hand idly rested on her hip. He sank more into the cushions, enough to let his head rest back and the hand that held his glass set on his thigh, seeming to have little interest in his gluttonous consumption. "Mn," that lethargic rumble set deep in his chest, inhuman in it's nature that defied his appearance completely.



She felt the rumble deep in her core, and purred in response. "I think being courted by you would be a worthwhile experience..." She almost didn't realize she'd spoken, warm and comfortable...and succumbing to a feeling of safety she couldn't explain, and, honestly, wasn't trying to. Such a tiny little body, for all its curves, and talent, squirmed and wriggled until her head was pillowed in the perfect spot on his chest, careful not to disturb his hand on her hip, although there was just the slightest pout that he was no longer running his fingers through her hair. Much like the felines she seemed to emulate, she adored the attention, and petting.

"I look forward to hearing one...without the separation. I never understood the point of the screens. What if I have to demonstrate? I think it's important to be very clear...confession requires penance, doesn't it? I imagine you would come up with incredibly creative ones...very thorough...it might take hours to get through." Her lashes brushed the flannel of his shirt, and she set the glass down, her free hand splaying across his ribs. "I assume we had a father...I don't...don't remember him. Just me..., Maman, Luke, Tonia, and Louis...and then....just the four of us..." She was drifting even as she finished...



He chuckled, the crackle in the static. "I'm sure it would be much more enjoyable now than back then, I wasn't nearly as wealthy as I am now," he smirked. Though, that was a lie. It wasn't just his brother that seemed to be as compulsive about it as he was. There was a portion of time that his wealth grew exponentially, when his ironic nature got the best of him. His arm shifted as she squirmed and a low grunt left him until she settled. Once she was tucked against his chest more comfortably, he polished off his drink and set it aside. While his hand was on her hip and no longer in her hair, it slipped beneath the hem of her sweater - in all rights innocent considering who it was - as his fingers curled over the curve.
He smiled before the sharp intake of breath spoke of a yawn, a clamp of pearly white teeth and the slow expulsion of air that deflated his chest proved it. "Ngh.." He blinked, narrowing his eyes like this was her wicked plan all along and it was working. Inert in his stationary partial sprawl on the couch. He chuckled softly, lazily. "I believe the screens were some form of anonymity, but the point of confessing your sins was through shame... and embarrassment... Not many could confess their sins while looking a clergymen in the eyes. Looking ahead, with a screen to hide behind, made it easier to confess." He was rambling himself, and starting to sound like damn Morgan Freeman with how deep and slow his voice got. Even his speech was sluggish! He was an encyclopedia of useful - and useless - knowledge. "But," he blinked rapidly as if trying to stay awake. "I expect you to look me in the eyes when you confe--eeeess," another yawn had gotten him, even as he fought it. "'Cause... mn, very thorough..." He muttered, nodding slowly. "Demon......strate creative.. thorough.. prnrrrs," you'd think she'd shot him with a tranquilizer gun as his lids slowly closed as he trailed off, listening to her name off her siblings that seemed to have the same effect as counting sheep for him. 1... Maman... 2... Luke... 3.... Tonia... 4... Louis.... 5... Tahlia?

Then the devil was down for the count, but that inhuman motor kept on going in his chest, a heavy, deep baritone sound somewhere in between a purr and a growl with every exhale of slow breath, to strange to really be considered a snore...

He remained quiet as she spoke, his thumb brushing over her chin before he released it. Idly hands weren't his specialty, so he brushed her bangs from her face before letting his hand join the other at her waist. "If you've done nothing wrong, then simply do not feed into her baiting. If she is... no better as you state, then perhaps crucifying you if her way of feeling better about herself?" He raised a brow. "It's the story retold through centuries, and human..." He paused, smiling softly as he corrected himself. "The nature of anyone to self-reflect. Insecurities can lead others into Malice. If this Jewell is as much a menace as you say, and seems to be baiting you for.. whatever reason. Could she not be one of those intimidated women we spoke of before?" He chuckled, lifting his hand again to brush his knuckles from the tip of her chin, down the line of her throat, then back up. "Who is this Simon?" He asked, tilting his head. "More importantly, what man could ever shake your confidence so?"



"I'm sure she's jealous. I'm younger, I think, or at least I look it. She looks... ravaged. The kind of ephemeral, fading beauty that appeals to some." She sniffed haughtily, although the effect might have been spoiled by the purr vibrating against the stroke of his knuckles along the delicate line of her throat. "She thinks I'm fucking her ex. I'm not... not that I'd mind...But he's been awfully resistant. But I don't know why she cares. Who concerns themselves with what a toy does once you're finished with it? And I haven't. A few barbs, here and there, but nothing serious. But tonight... She called me out in public, mon loup... how can I let that stand? Even a putain has her reputation to consider..." It said volumes how easily and frequently her native tongue spilled from her lips in his presence.

Her cheeks flushed, she wasn't easily embarrassed, but admitting to what she saw as a severe lapse in judgement...a failing in the perfect routine that had seen her through centuries...a weakness. That had her responding without pretense. "He said he loved me. Not that it doesn't happen... But I believed him. I... I don't think I'd ever been in love, before. He came for me, when I needed him. I tried to change for him. I wanted to...but I suppose not as much as I wanted the rush, the attention. And then, in one night, it was all over. He left without a word. I haven't seen him since." She recited it as if from memory, dull and emotionless. She hadn't retreated far, if at all, so when she lifted her gaze to his, unconsciously matching the tilt of his head, there was hardly any space between them. "Have you ever been in love, cher? Does it ever go away? I've been so?emotional..." the way she hissed the word gave away her distaste for the state.



There was a brief crinkle to his nose. "Hm, I suppose some men would find appeal in it. If they enjoy breakable delicacy," he snickered, shaking his head. "I find much more profound enjoyment out of a healthy looking woman with curves," he gave a firm nod to his head, and the smirk on his lips foretold who he meant. He listened, his lips momentarily twitching to the articulation of not-so-foreign words dripping from her tongue. "It is no different than children, ma petite colombe. Discarded toys hold no interest unless someone else is playing with them. Even if you're not playing with her discarded toy, people will believe what they wish to, whether it is truth or not." He shook his head solemnly, sighing as if he knew it from his own experience. "There is nothing worse than to nip at the bait dangled. People will demonize what they fear," his fingers brushed from her exposed throat to her jaw line. "And they will try to rally others to do the same. Do you know the lore of Lilith, ma cherie?" He raised a brow to the inquiry. "She was a woman, simply human. Demonized by Christian faith because she went against what they believed, refusing to be subservient. She stood up to her husband, Adam, when he denied her equality. And because of it, she was cast down by humanity. They believed her to be many things. A succubus, a lamia, a demon. Her reputation was shattered, yet she remained strong beneath the scrutiny. She kept her head high, refusing to allow anyone to divert her views of herself... she remained to love humanity, regardless of their stones. I believe you have the strength to withstand the rumors of a snake, but you mustn't take a bite of the apple," he chuckled.

His chin lifted through the explanation of who Simon was, and he nodded, his hands lowering to rest on her hips. "And that is where you made the mistake," he whispered to her. "Not by loving the man, but allowing him to let you think that you needed to change to make him happy. Do not disregard your own happiness for the sake of others. There is no pride to be found in abandoning who you are to meet the standards of another. The only standards you should be adhering to.. are your own. If you have to change to earn someone's love, it's not a love worth keeping," he shook his head. His infernal gaze locked onto hers when she looked at him, and amongst the hellfire, sulfur, and brimstone, something else flickered in his eyes. "Oui, ma cherie..." He sighed, his tone just barely audible above a whisper. "Once, but it was a long time ago. It was agony at first," he admitted. "But over time... the pain withdrew to a dull ache.. and then it was simply numb."



"It's only been a few weeks. I thought...once I got the brand it would hurt less. And it does, but sometimes, still...I have to think of him, or say his name and ... I just get so angry at myself, at him." She shook her head, realizing too late that she had said far too much. "I know. I remember Maman telling us the stories...that we should not give in to the taunts and teases...or make the other children think they were covered in bees or send whispers in their ears. Because we were more than they were, and we should understand they feared us because they did not know." The gaze she turned to him had lost its warmth, chilled as if carved from jade directly. "And then, one night, while we slept, they barred our doors, and put torches to the thatch. Luke dragged me out, with Louis and Tonia...Maman didn't make it. We were 10. After that...we stopped caring what they knew. Or thought. We just wanted them to pay."

The warmth returned to her eyes like a spring thaw, slowly, and then in a rush. "Ever since the Duke...I have despised public conflict. Not the fighting...the rings, here. Or, if I'm honest, the spectacle of others fighting for me, or because of me...but as long as I could stand aside, pretending shock. But you're right. I shouldn't give her the satisfaction. Shouldn't let her see she has any power to draw my attention, or my concern." She had not missed his reference to curves, or the smirk that gave away his intentions. Pouting prettily, she batted her lashes over those wide green eyes. "But you've hardly even kissed me since that first night. Was I not what you wanted? Did I disappoint you, somehow?"


He listened intently to her horrors. He watched the changes in her eyes, her expressions. His chin lifted slowly in understanding. "Your Maman was a wise woman, but such is the minds of the weak... Humans thrive off instinct. The old, most primal, that does not just narrow down to that one species alone. Fight or Flight, and when they get tired of running... they lash out violently. They submit to their Wrath. What they neglect to realize, is that while they point fingers at the so called monsters they fear, they become the biggest monsters of them all." He sighed.

"To let her get to you, is giving her power over you. Control. We both know you're above that," he shook his head, his own smile warming, assuring. His eyes lowered to her pout, the bottom swell of her lip that would be easy to catch between his teeth but her words gave him pause. His brow arched as he tilted his head, a slow and knowing smile spreading as he chuckled. He shook his head. "Non, ma cherie. You have not disappointed me," his head tilted forward, his fingers caressing down the line of her jaw as he watched the motion. "Surprised me... intrigued me.. admittedly.." He flicked his eyes to her with a smirk. "Even stunned me. But, not disappointed. Perhaps I've indulged myself in our conversations too much, as it's been a rare treat for me. Have I neglected.. other.. needs so selfishly?" He purred softly, his head tipping down until there was only a hairline fracture between their lips, his eyes laced with sulfur and brimstone as he gently brushed his bottom lip over hers.

When she ducked her head, he didn't seem apologetic about his snap. Though he did soften, steel turning molten as he watched the look she gave him. For as long as the road permitted him, however, as he had to return his attentions to it. "You are rather influential," he admitted, snickering. "I do not know your siblings, but if they are anything like you..." He cast her a glance. "Well, I might even say you rival some of the beasts I know," he smirked, revealing it was a compliment. To the road again, his eyes didn't hinder his attention as he listened to her. "The numbers of the condemned are growing by the dozens, even as we speak. The Wrath of God isn't nearly as feared as it used to be, and Hell is less of a threat. It's become a myth, even if it is reigning." He smirked coyly. "At least until the ignorant are denied the golden gates and sent to us," he almost snorted. "We have a knack for proving people wrong," he flashed a million dollar smile.

There was a tick to his jaw when he sensed that Green Monster in the car, and he sighed. "Envy is unbecoming of you, ma cherie." There was an underlying where is your pride? in the statement. "As sweet as it is.. there is no room for it. Everyone has their roles, including myself. While she has her benefits, so do you," he slid those smoldering eyes to her, raising a brow as his expression softened with the curve of his smile. "Like you just said, we share a time, a place, that is special to us." He turned his eyes to the road as he eased around a street corner smoothly. "So any insecure notions you may withhold, or fear, cast them aside. I do not pick favorites, and have little tolerance for such games."



She snapped back as if stung, trembling for a moment before she got her temper under control. "I am not jealous of her!" It was the one sin she would fight admitting to, the only one of which she truly felt any shame at all. Twisting in the seat, she faced forward, pride and anger swirling while she tried to slow the impressive rise and fall that gave her away. She wasn't angry with him, but with herself. It wasn't like her to give care or consideration to the other women that orbited the men in her life. Just as she expected those men to accept that she depended on a harem of her own for security. Depending on man for all her needs...could only end in ruin.

Long moments ticked by while she struggled to get her emotions in check. "You're right, of course. I forgot myself for a moment." For the first time, she found herself wishing she had never met Simon. "What is my role, then? You spoke of benefits...my being useful to your needs. Besides the...obvious." She couldn't resist a smile, remembering what they had gotten up to in the back of her new car not so long before. "Must be something in the water...I haven't been so unsettled since..." She half-muttered under her breath. Since France. Since before they'd truly understood what they could do, if not what they were. "I'm acting like an...apprentice." She let out a groan. She'd nearly forgotten her days training in the brothel.



There was a sudden flash of Wrath in the car, like white hot searing heat that hit him like a freight train. The leather of the wheel beneath his fingers creaked as his grip subtly, slowly, tightened. He was used to restraining himself, of keeping the beast of Wrath locked in the pit of his chest. He swallowed the Hellish growl threatening the integrity of his throat as he lifted his chin. He couldn't stop the slight tick of a smile, a twitch. There it is. There's her pride.. He released slow, heavy breath through his nose, rolled his shoulders as if he was shrugging off the bristle of tension that had rolled over him. "You can't lie to the Devil, ma petite colombe," he whispered, softly, and it was less an accusation. More of a confession of his own, and his nature, his creation emblazoned with Hellfire at the edges of his irises. "It is just us here," he reminded her. Against all odds, she was possibly in the safest place on the face of Rhy'Din right now. Even with someone as dangerous as he.

But he'd grown silent, giving her a moment to collect herself. Recover. Regain her composure. When she spoke again, he looked over to her. A flicker of a glance as he didn't keep his eyes from the road too long, but the sentiment was there as he reached his hand out and set the excessively warm palm on her knee, giving it a squeeze before he let it rest. "Good to have you back, ma cherie," he chuckled, casting her a small smile. She questioned, and he considered it before snickering. "That is not a benefit I am lacking in.." He confessed. "Though don't mistake that as me appreciating it any less," he punctuated his words with a sweep of hungry eyes over her, a devilish smile following suit. "You give me what no one else can. Even if you deny one of them," he eyed her knowingly, but didn't verbally call her out on it. "You just as easily stir it in others." He couldn't help the outright laugh when she spoke of apprenticeship, shaking his head in objection almost immediately. "Non, non. You are not an apprentice, doll. I already have one of those, with no interest in another any time soon," he smirked, chuckling. "You met her that night at the Inn. Kami. On the contrary, you prestige in what you do. You're a natural influencer, ma petite colombe. You're a rare gem among sinners, you support all of them. Actively, or passively, each of them radiates from you, and what isn't present, is influenced from those around you," he cut her a pointed look. "You're an advocate of the Seven, but you have no foothold in Gehenna. That can either be dangerous for you, or appealing to some. Some that may seek to take advantage, I on the other hand..." He purred, brushing his thumb over her knee as he chuckled. The rumbling sound seemed to echo, ethereal, in the small space surrounding them. "Think it could be mutually beneficial to the both of us."



She heard him, and nodded. It was the only acknowledgement she would give that he was likely the only one she couldn't hide her truest emotions from. And she wasn't entirely certain how she felt about it. She had survived by hiding. Being around someone who could see into the depths of her soul...would strip that away, at least around him. But...she couldn't deny the appeal of the man next to her. Not only for all the usual reasons she found herself seeking someone out, but the very nature of what he was. Perhaps he could help her figure out exactly what she was...why she could do the things she could do. Perhaps the villagers had been right...although she suspected if he thought her kin, he would have told her by now.

"I like her. She's....interesting. I don't think I could apprentice to you. I meant, before. I had to be trained before the madame would allow me to seek my own salon. So I spent a year in a brothel. With 10 other girls. Catty, awful...constantly fighting for ribbons... fripperies... patrons." She slid her gaze to his face, and smoothed her hand over his grip on her knee. "And it seems I defaulted to that wretched behavior at the first sign of..." She waved her hand, able to dismiss it now that she had pinned it down. His oh-so-subtle stroking of her ego didn't hurt, the jealousy and anger damped and doused by pride and lust. "How would it be dangerous? Not that I am turning down your offer...I am curious just what benefits you might offer. And just what my instilling every mortal sin in those around me... directly or indirectly...might do to benefit you? Other than corrupting more souls to send to Hell...not that I have any objection to that, in the slightest. But you seem to inspire a great deal of sin yourself, mon cher...." The smile she turned up to him was sweet, and bordering on innocence. It was the second nickname that inspired it. "Or do you wish to know just how innocent I can present myself to be...I haven't spent much time in convents...my nature wouldn't allow it, and even the most isolated collection of sisters couldn't keep all the men away...but enough, I think, to play the part." And had. Often.



"We all have our triggers, ma cherie. I have many," he admitted. "But it's about flipping them to your advantage, instead of letting them bare their teeth to your throat." No, he wasn't playing teacher. But as she couldn't help some of her nature around him, his years spent as Knight, Commander, and Advisers to Kings and Queens slipped through the cracks of his mirage. It wasn't as easy as a simple switch flicked to Off. Not for him. His thumb lifted from its resting on her knee, brushing the side of her hand idly, a soothing gesture if the Devil ever could have one.

His chin lifted with a sigh when she questioned the dangers. "While Rhy'Din seems to be out of the fluctuation of Hell's orbit, there are lesser, more possessive devils that have much less restraint." He wrinkled his nose, distaste akin to his maker that oozed bitterness from his tongue. "There's often less that follow any Code of Ethics," he snickered, sliding her an amused look. "I know," he assumed. "Hell? Having a Code of Ethics?" His smile was thin, subtle and barely recognized if one wasn't paying attention. "But even the Devil was once an angel," he murmured, casting his eyes forward again. "Is still an angel..." He corrected himself softly, then moved on. "Some of the others, they are not above brute force as a method. Forgetting the ability of gentle persuasion. Common thieves, and petty liars," he grumbled. "I prefer the give and take methods," he smirked, raising a brow to her. "And I don't just deal in souls. But they are not what fuels me, ma cherie. I do not have a quota to make. My purpose was set forth to influence Him. To whisper in ears, to..." He shrugged, downplaying it significantly. "Enable... the natural instincts of others. I simply draw out the True Nature of Humanity, loosely on humanity." He raised a brow at her. "Sins are what fuel me. Let's... make a metaphor," he chuckled. "Think of me as a vehicle. Durable, persistent. I have plenty of horsepower," he smirked, waggling his brows to her. "My battery, however, is fueled by sin. At times..." He looked at her pointedly. "I may need a jump to run smoother. You? You would be my Jumper Cables, ma cherie. Does that make any sense?" He questioned, his brows furrowing as he looked forward.

Part 2


Papers had been signed and filed, money passed along to the dealership. Leaving in their newest investments at his expense, Ace had followed Tahlia's Porsche Panamera in his Cadillac CTS. Agreeing to meet at her place for celebratory drinks, they'd parked in the lot and gone up to her apartment. At this point, it was painfully obvious what his favorite drink was and he didn't even need to mention it before she was making him an Old Fashioned, then one for herself.

He'd only finished about three quarters of his drink before the excitement of a new toy to play with had him bleeding into another form of excitement, a different kind of toying. Just as sleek, incredibly more blonde, and much warmer interiors with a softer frame. Drinks abandoned in the throws of passion, they eventually met their hands again to be finished off.

Now, the two were enjoying her fireplace out on the patio. Drinks refreshed and in hand, he didn't ask where she'd gotten the men's robe he was wearing, but it was obviously clean at the very least, if not new. Matching in their black, silk velvet robes, dried from past sweat and still coated in each other's scent. The fire danced in his irises, though it could be sworn there was a deeper tinge of red to the assumed black. Perhaps because of the shade he was wearing that aided in the difference of the two, though still made difficult thanks to the flames lapping in the fireplace.

He'd cozied himself between her legs as they lounged on that patio couch. Leaned back against her, his head was nestled back against her bosom and his core temperature could've kept her warm even without those robes. But they were comfortable, he'd admit. The leg at his side was being caressed softly in paintbrush strokes with the tips of his fingers, back and forth over the porcelain smoothness of the skin. "Mn," he hummed, lids seeming to go heavy though he was far from tired. He was simply... engorged with the abundance of sins in one day. "Quite a day, and yet.. it's still not over. Positive you're not tired of me yet?" He teased her, his head tipping back and turning slightly to lift those flame-licked eyes up to her.



She'd left her hair loose after they'd left a path of fabric in a meandering path through the penthouse. Drinks close to hand, she twisted just enough to catch his lips with hers, content and at least momentarily sated. "Not in the slightest. Just let me know if I need to order breakfast." Her fingers combed through his hair, feather light, and as slow and even as the rise and fall of her chest beneath his head. She imagined it would take a great deal of time before 'tired' was a word she would apply to the interest and intrigue with which she greeted his presence. "Considering our conversation in the car...are you sure you aren't tired of me?"



His chin lifted to connect the kiss offered, a sigh of contentment quaking through his chest. It broke and he settled again. Chuckling, "breakfast does sound good..." he admitted, then wrinkled his nose. "But that would require me allowing you to get up.." He made a point by sinking more into her and those soothing fingers in his hair. "I have no interest in doing so just yet." They lulled him to close his eyes, but luckily for her, not enough to lull him to sleep. Even with eyes closed, one brow lifted to crinkle his forehead slightly. "Considering our conversation in the car... it would imply the opposite. Though, as much as I'd love to linger in the pleasure, we should discuss the details in more length," he rumbled, fingers dancing over her knee.



"I said order, mon cher, not make. Cooking was not a skill I was expected to master as a courtesan...and I can just about work the coffee maker." Laughter bubbled through her voice, not at all mocking, and fading into a hum of pleasure as he settled against her. Resting her head against the cushions, her fingers barely paused for a heartbeat, her knee flexing beneath his hand. "I suppose we should. I expect it is going to be a touch more involved than how much you'll provide for my housing and expenses, and when and how you wish me to be available for your pleasure." She didn't, in fact, expect any of that to be part of the discussion - although she more than suspected he'd agreed to similar arrangements in the past.



His own laughter blended into a harmonization, a deeper baritone. "If that's the case, ma cherie... should one of us being cooking breakfast, leave that to me. Just as I'll leave the drink mixing to you," he purred that beastial sound, a hook forming at the corners of his mouth. "I've had plenty of time, and have suffered from boredom enough to learn the skill of cooking. But I still opt for ordering," he wrinkled his nose. He definitely wasn't getting up. His hand splayed over her knee when it flexed, sliding down her shin. One dark eye peeped out from lid and lash, lifting up to her in a slight squint. "Not to say I can't, I'm sure you've realized by now there aren't many expenses I can't afford. Am I purchasing room and board next?" He teased, snickering, before he shook his head - and momentarily got distracted by the motion to brush his cheek against an ample breast. "Mn.." Then cleared his throat. Focus. In his defense, she did mention pleasure. He came back around, though. "That's not quite the details I was thinking, though those can be discussed later," he chuckled. "More... terms of what I'd proposed."



"Oh good...I thought I was going to have to start keeping actual food in the house..." The purr seemed to echo low and deep, and he wasn't the only one struggling to keep on task. One thin brow arched, and she seemed to give the matter some thought. "I don't think so...I was smart enough to have this put in my name - but I don't know if it might not be better to have some of the expenses...." She dismissed the rest of the thought with a smirk. "As you said, we can discuss those details later. But if we are going to discuss terms - perhaps a slightly less distracting position?" Because the brush of his cheek, the warmth of his body against her center, the bass hum of his voice vibrating through her...were causing her to struggle to focus.



"I'll bring something to cook dinner sometime," he promised with a backward tilt of his head that was dancing brows at her. One of those dancing brows remained arched as she spoke of her place and he poked his bottom lip out, giving a direct look to the fireplace. I like it.. It was written all over his face in a fit of transparency. Though he seemed to be on par with discussing those things later, considering the nod of his head. At least until she mentioned changing positions and he actually grunted. "Moving. What do you take me for? A thing that actually does that?" He teased before he let out a laugh and lifted his hand, "alright, alright." Reluctantly, and with a parting brush of his lips - and perhaps teasing - to the same spot he'd previously been nuzzling before he sat up. "Not quite sure what good changing positions will do..." He chuckled, looking back to her.. and her position that gave him a peek beneath the robe.



She shifted, not denying him his peek, or the hint of color that his teasing revealed, and straightened the robe just enough to keep herself covered enough to be less distracting. It was likely impossible for her not to be at all distracting. But in that she was fairly evenly matched by her companion. His slight pout did not go unnoticed, and despite the occasional loneliness, she liked it too. It was comfortable, and there were far too many happy memories attached to every surface. And more with every day. "My poor belabored majesty...I will have to make the effort worthwhile." She smirked. "After you tell me the terms..."



That blush of rose to her cheeks had him smiling more diabolically, shameless in his enjoyment of it. It was his flower, after all. Even covered, it was impossible to not be distracting. No amount of clothing could wash away the fact he remembered what was beneath them. Even still, he turned in his upright position and shifted to be sitting properly on the couch. Though, he did at least shift her legs to drape them across his lap so she could pilfer some of that Hellish heat that radiated from him like an extended aura. There was a chuckle for her efforts, and he lifted his chin all snooty. "I will expect no less, I moved," he sniffled once, "leaving me out in the cold.." It was a joke in itself. Could he even get cold? ... No. "I suppose that's fair," he sighed in a gush, taking a moment to swallow more of his Old Fashioned before he turned his head to look at her, lacing his fingers around the glass with forearms draped over her legs. "As we discussed in the car, did you get the jist of what I'm looking for, ma cherie?" He raised a brow, waiting to see just how much she took from their previous talk.



The fire was crackling merrily, so she highly doubted that he was all that cold, considering the waves of heat that radiated from him. But it was part of their game, and so she cooed sympathetically before snickering, swallowing both with a sip of Old Fashioned, and gracing him with a warm, grateful smile for sharing that warmth with her. She was delicate, and chilled easily - always had. It must be that mediterranean blood in her veins. "I think so, mon cher. I am not completely unaware of my effect on others...the desire, the anger...the envy...I can inspire. Not to mention my own predilections. The Seven Deadly Sins...swirling in my wake." She winked at him over the rim of her glass. "And while it amuses me...it sustains you. So our arrangement would create some kind of ... bond? To allow you to draw those things from me."



While she cooed to him, he simply ate it up and mourned the loss to incite possible - if not probable - "making up" for it later. His eyes remained glued to her while he idly sipped from his drink while she summarized. She did seem to understand what he wanted, and he nodded along with the lowering of his glass with a smile of amusement. "A pool of sin just waiting for you to dip your toes into," he teased, with the added effect of a brief tickle to her toes with a wicked chuckle. "A bond of sorts, more particularly.. a spell from one of my... resources. Though, I will have to warp some of it into my own handiwork." His eyes turned to her, inquiring as they were his words. "What is your extent of knowledge with magic, ma cherie? As ridiculous as it may sound to ask in," he lifted his hand with a look around, meaning Rhy'Din as a whole. "A place like this were it is less uncommon." He snickered. "Particularly the flavors of Black and Blood," he raised a brow while bringing his drink to his lips.



The giggle that rose from her, accompanied by a squirm as his fingers found the soles of her feet, made her seem precisely as old as she looked, for a moment. "Ace!" There was no doubt there would be all the making up he could desire, later. The laughter faded, and she stilled, tangled golden tresses brushing against black silk as she signalled her relative ignorance. "Not much, really. Louis was always the one studying potions and poisons. Letting anyone see...what we could do. What I could do...seemed a swift path to the stake." The mention of blood caught her attention, and had her silent while the logs popped and snapped beneath the flames. "I never studied. It just...did what I asked it to. What I told it to. As long as there is the slightest cut. And my own...I don't get sick, or drunk, or high. No parasites - no pregnancy. Not unless I wish it?" And why would she? Although she'd been known to let the drugs and drink take her away from time to time...when she needed the fog.



His grin was downright fiendish as she squirmed and he chuckled shamelessly to her reaction and call of his name. The twisted parts of him loved hearing the call of his name, though... it didn't quite tickle him as much as it could. After all, "Austin" wasn't but one of many names he'd occupied in the... millenia of existence. As they spoke of magic, he smiled slightly with a nod of his head. "Black magic isn't quite as common, and perhaps with even more karmatic risk than.." He paused, trailing off as she spoke of her inclination with the latter of the two topics. His brows lifted and she seemed to have his utmost attention. If there was ever any question of it. He blinked once before his eyes narrowed like he was trying to see her correctly. "Do you mean to tell me you have natural affinity for Blood Magic, ma cherie?"

"Of course." This was in response to his telling Kami. She'd sensed something between the two, not that she could define it, or needed to. "I'll have to tell Eddie - not all of it, but something." The answer came before she had given it much thought, and beyond the merest flush, she didn't give it much thought now. Of course Eddie would know - she was not so naive as to think that these lessons might change things. And besides, surely he would understand the need to know what she was. "As for the rest...I don't see any reason for them to think us anything but occasional lovers. Although...I may take you up on your earlier offer. Since you were so generous as to offer." He may have been teasing, but she was hardly going to turn it down. Especially since Mal had been so quiet of late. "I suppose it is. But we've already established that I like to live dangerously, mon cher." Another sip, and she leaned it to leave the slightest hint of cherry on his lips. "Is there anything else I ought to know?"



"Naturally," he nodded. Just as she had sensed things between him and Kami that.. honestly were almost impossible for him to put into words. He'd sensed the connection between Tahlia and Eddie. Different circumstances, but connections were connections. "Understandable." He didn't argue. He didn't feel the need to voice to keep what he was - what he could do - hush hush. He was certain she understood it without wasting breath. "I think that would be suitable," he purred with a coy smirk, though there was laughter for the rest. "Car today, and already hungry for more," he grinned, but he didn't seem to mind. "Perhaps when I, myself, am more settled into the city," he teased knowingly. After all, she already had her own place! Though, he likely would've found his own place by now were it not for his specific tastes. That, and waiting for Kami. "Use this fireplace to the best of our disposal in the meantime," he hummed, giving a slight dance of brows. Chuckling, he nodded. "We have, otherwise you would have fled from me the moment I told you Devil wasn't just a pet name women seemed to favor for me," he teased, with a pointed look. Though the look softened when she left the taste of cherry on his lips, a taste savored by the slow sweep of velvet muscle. "Mn. There is," he cleared his throat, evident where his thoughts had gone. "One more thing.. It's more technical detail than the rest. There will be... a need to sign in more than contracts. Dots to cross, quite literally."



"You did say more than blood..." There was one more thing she had to show him, but it could wait. She suspected that the reveal might lead them to dancing shadows, and there was that final detail to be determined. "What can I say - even I have my moments of greed, mon cher. Once you're settled, of course. For the moment, everything is taken care of." She finished her drink, and set the glass aside, running fingers through his hair before she sat back, waiting to hear this technical detail. "So what it is you require from me?"



"I did," he agreed with a chuckle. If that was the case, perhaps it would be good to wait. Was there any sense to reveal greater hands at the beginning of the game? "We all do, ma cherie. Some... more than others," there was a wink sent her way, obvious that he was including himself in that remark. He polished off his own glass, setting his drink away from them before she was running fingers through his hair. Lids grew heavy, though not in any sense of sleep. Thankfully, she'd pulled them away before it reached that point. He blinked, then looked to her with a drifting gaze to the marque behind her ear. "A brand of sorts, though.. it's more of my signature, and in more depth, the link to connect." His eyes returned to hers, lingering there head on. "I would be placing runes on myself as well."



"Would it be...well, no, I suppose on me it wouldn't be. Not if I don't want it to be." He'd felt the brand, but not seen it. She had it in her mind to show him what else she kept hidden. Unfamiliar with magic, she had no idea if his would disrupt her own. Best not to surprise the Devil, she thought. Not that she hadn't already, but he seemed to enjoy the fact that she let her walls down so far with him, the little cute moments that he drew from her with ease. "So the runes would be connected to...why more than one?" Another detail, but now she was curious.



"Hm?" He didn't seem to quite understand what she was saying, or... if she was merely rambling her own thoughts to herself outwardly. There was an aura around her that was familiar yet so foreign, and he couldn't place it. He was ignorant to her abilities. No amount of knowledge and experience could make him read her to that extent. With with his own capabilities. There was a coy smile that came with her question. "My Seven, for your one. Like strings to pull should the craving strike.. it.." He paused, trying to collect the words to explain. "Well, it send you a signal to what I hunger for in the moment. Generally speaking, the spell calls for one. Which is where my customization comes in," he chuckled. "Linking seven runes to your one could be tricky, but I have no doubt of my capabilities to achieve it." There was confidence pouring from him like a water fountain, spouting directly out of his mouth verbally.



"It's easier to show, than tell." Her smile turned secretive, although she didn't move from her position until he had finished. "That makes...an incredible amount of sense. And I have no doubt that you will be able to achieve exactly what you say." She should have asked about control - about how strong the cravings would come, but she was, for all her experience and indulgence in all the sins and debaucheries the world could devise, a bit naive in the ways of magical contracts. Displaced or not, she trusted him not to take advantage of her, since he had proven himself a gentleman so far. "I think we are agreed then. You'll let me know when?" Naive, yes, but she'd watched her brother enough to know there was some level of preparation likely.



There was a perk of brow to the mention of show and tell, inquiringly so. But she went ahead to stroke his ego. There was a pleased smile for her encouragement, and really... he was expecting more nitpicking questions. Drawing the details out into fine lines and sharp edges. He wouldn't have necessarily complained, but the naivety and trust in him was almost painful. Luckily for her... she was an investment, and a valuable one. He'd only take advantage as far as she'd let him, for now. "Of course. As soon as the provisions are procured, I will tell you when it's ready." He nodded, though his curiosity was getting the best of him as he sat up just a little straighter. He turned his head just slightly to the side, eyeing her with the lick of Hellfire in his eyes. "Now... what of this show and tell?"



Leaning forward, she kissed him again, her lips lingering sweetly while she rose from her position on the couch, and stood, angled so that the fire threw warm light across the robes warmth. "I think you will like it. I hope so, at least." There had been only one exception, and she suspected there were other reasons for it. Her fingers fell to the knot of her robe, tugging it free with practiced ease. Beneath the fabric, butterflies fluttered - the last time she had so deliberately revealed herself had been...to the same man who had so shaken her confidence. But this was more than a little different. Gathering her hair to one side, she let the robe drop, sliding across porcelain skin, and let her glamour follow. The largest difference was immediately obvious as the blonde deepened, from strands of gold to a red so dark that it seemed some jeweler had spun garnets into silk. Her skin remained porcelain, the fire adding to the sun-kissed glow, except where it was stained with wine dark reminders of mouths and hands. The marque behind her ear came into view, as delicate as it felt, and to its presence was added a thin scar, as if from a bayonet, beneath her left breast. On her forehead was a tiny mark of delicate knot work, above her third eye...and to the left of the silver seal at her navel, beneath where the bandage had lain that second night....was an oak leaf burned into her skin, intricate and almost disturbingly beautiful. Those pale jade eyes remained the same, and they opened to see his reaction to seeing her stripped bare before him.



His chin lifted, following her lips as she rose as if reluctant to let them leave. That deep motor of baritone bass rolled through his chest when it broke. His spine straightened out of his slothful draping on her couch, sitting up to prop his elbows on his knees. He sat quite literally on the edge of his seat, considering her last show and tell had involved blood. Interest piqued, he wanted to know what else she had in store. What else to be revealed. Eyes glued to her expectantly as she dropped her robe, and her glamour in one fell swoop. The hair was gradual, and seemed to catch his attention instantly. The kind of red from fallen foes, spilled across fields of wars fought in his past. The red of roses, velvet silk to the touch and his symbolic flower. The red of garnets that made his Greed ache. His fingers twitched as if he wanted to touch it. There was more in stock, more to be seen as he forced his eyes away from that crimson hair. The knot on her forehead was noted, but not quite recognized. The marque that he tilted his head to catch that peek to, seeing for the first time what he had felt.

He hadn't gone further before he was rising to his feet to survey the rest of her change. The ascent was slow to his feet, but not the closure of distance as he breached it one step. Fingers itching to touch rose to rake through the silken tresses of garnet, fingertips caressing down her scalp and around to the fleur de lys that he'd touched numerous times by now. A dance of fingers down her shoulders, around the curve of rib to the bayonet scar beneath her breast. He traced it with his index, as if he recognized the weapon, if not used it many a time before. His touch scorched it's Hellish heat to her navel where the seal laid, then finally, it traced the outline of her newest modification. He looked at it, but was silent in an almost excruciating way. Attentive, he refused to miss any of her trustful revelry.

Eyes of coagulated blood, so deep to be mistaken for black peered into the dull jade of hers before he smiled, fingers smoothing around her waist before he coaxed her closer with a pull. "This... is the form of you I like best," he murmured his admission as he drew her flush against him, mentally cursing the robe he was still wearing. His head lowered, brushing his lips over hers. "When we are alone... when you are comfortable.. I want the real you," he told her in a hushed, almost demanding whisper before he pressed his mouth firm to hers, desire reigning dominant with the fervour to consume her whole.