She made no flowery words to feign ignorance of his meaning - No silly, detestable flaunts of an ignorance he knew that she didn't have. She was a whore, a prostitute, and this made her worldly; Full of the knowledge, smarts and wisdom that only such women could truly have. He could tell, from his own wariness and from the effect that she was having on him, that Isabella knew the way of men. He could tell that she knew how their hearts beat, and how their blood could run so very warm.
While this made her, in a sense, dangerous to him - A liability to his self control, a hazard to the wicked wonder of his mind - It also made her irresistibly alluring. A challenge. The man's salmon pink tongue ran, almost nervously, almost in anticipation, across his black lips as the coydog approached him. Her voice was warm and of a naturally seductive tenor, something few women were born with, and something fewer could ever hope to fully hone in the way she clearly had. The power of the voice was never something to be underestimated - This was something Sirius, the silver-tongued serpent of Salsola, had learned very early on. He controlled the hearts and minds of his followers with the rich tenor of his voice. It was the voice of a leader, the voice of a King. Hers held a different power equally able to sway the fickle desires of men.
The first touch of her fingertips, just grazing the flesh of his arm, was enough to send an involuntary shiver through the lean muscle there. It had been so long since he had felt such a touch - so light, and yet so filled with potential wickedness. There were no deceptions here. He had the voracious libido of a male in his prime, and she had accepted his payment, proving herself in some way willing. Acidic olive eyes, of a color so volatile and strange that they seemed to embody the hue of venom itself, trailed her for as far as they could before she disappeared behind him. He resisted the impulse to turn with her, remaining still.
Her succulent tones voiced their opinion, and it was correct. "You are observant," He allowed an arrogant smirk to come easily to dark features. It did not surprise him that she had guessed his rank, but it pleased him nonetheless to know that the woman had enough instincts to pick up on such a thing. It was nothing he had said verbally, but those of the old ways - Before they had been blessed with the virus and learned to think as only man could - would have known instantly of his dominance. It was important that civility did not steal their sharpness, their primal instincts, away from them.
Her tones rebuked him lightly, but seriously. It seemed the exotic beauty had had enough of playing his games. One dark browspot rose, intrigued, but he allowed her to speak - allowed her to reach out again and let her cool fingertips caress the four deep grooves of his scar, just about the steady beating of his heart. But she had the mind of a minx, and his impassiveness was finally shattered as her wandering fingers found themselves headed to a place most private, a place that had already begun to show of his apparent desire for her.
His had whipped out, grabbing her delicate wrist firmly, halting its path to his own bliss. His mind was far too clouded by arousal - The monarch would not allow her to toy with such power and control, not while he still had the might of his wit to foresee where it would lead, here on the borders of his territory. The king's grip on her wrist was firm, but gentle, and he brought her open palm back up to his mouth, and placed a single kiss upon it. "You are quite the vixen," Came his hot purr, but although the words were chiding, they were laced with far too much approval to truly be so. Olive eyes did not move from her face, but he released the woman's hand gracefully, and took a step back, allowing for the cooler air to swell between them and release his mind of her woman's magic once more. Black lips quirked up, but his frame was still taught with desire. Canny as he was, all men had weaknesses, and Sirius' just happened to be beauty - Especially beautiful women. "I am the King here, the Lord of Thistle," His sharp teeth grinned at her, wolfishly large despite the somewhat coyote angles of his dark and brooding features. "My word is law, and it is thus: You are now allowed here, to stay with my Family, Isabella of the living cities."
Because his body was craving her, he made no further move towards her, but instead dipped his head - Just once, and just slightly. It was all the proud monarch would give her, by way of true respect, to show that his words had some honor within them. "I welcome you to Salsola."
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