M - and then i'll set this place on fire

Sirius Revlis · 08-19-2011, 01:08 AM

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Word Count » 3+

Finally, it seemed, she had pushed him too far. The slick charisma and gentry that clung so well to brooding features was pulled back to reveal the wicked beast beneath - The Hunter, the creature that had seen its reflection in the eyes of Gabrielson and the smiling crocodile. There was no charm there, no oozing of civility that sought to thaw the hearts and minds of those who crossed him. Sirius was a two-part man: The puppeteer, the thinker, He with the fearsome wit and canniness, the fox's shadow. But there was also this side: The feral hunger that lurked beneath, the predator reveal in the whites of his prey's eyes. Terrible power lingered there.

The hand that thought to strike her face did not. It held, wavering, but slowly dropped at the trembling woman's words. He was not remorseful for her fear - Tlantli had been needing to be put in her rightful place for some time, now. She alone had been granted a seat of insolence, but the Thistle King was not a hide to walk upon, and best she knew that now.

Deep breaths slid air through his throat, making it rumble in a growl that had no beginning and no abrupt ending. It was constant, like a purr, but full of maliciousness. However, the terrible cold that had been within poisonous olive was fading now, slowly being pacified by her whispered pleas, her warm body as it melted submissively in to his. For a tense moment more, slitted pupils observed her. He detested the scent of another man on her, and suspiciously knew of their erotic act. Was it jealousy that fueled the Thistle King's rage, or simply anger itself? Tlantli was not an object, not a slave or a horse, but she belonged to him nonetheless - As did Eris, and Salvia, and Clover. He hoarded women close, but so far, only she had provoked such rage from him.

Finally, a derisive snort was offered, a thick grunting sound that ended the growling in a note of disgust. Still holding her close, perhaps too close, the Boss released her wrist. There was not further mention of her antics - It was as if the ruler wished to deny the very existence of what had likely happened. He would sever it from mind, and not think on it again, lest that same rage return. Without such intense emotion, the pounding in his head was felt once more, and the King sunk back in to his stone throne, pulling the slight weight of Tlantli with him until she sat across his lap, whether she wished to or not. Her nearness, though it in itself was a form of self agony, was instinctively required - He would replace the smell of the other male with his own musky scent, primitively claiming her.

The silver-backed brush was picked up from the arm of the throne, and thrust back into her hand. "Make use of yourself, then," Came the arrogant tone as Sirius closed his eyes, turning his head such that she might have access to the dark and unruly tangle of his locks.

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