Her eyes watched his every reaction to her touches. His muscles pulsed and jerked underneath her fingertips. She noted it all. A good courtesan would know what to do the next time she encountered the same man, and she knew that Sirius would not be done with her quite so easily. Not that she would ever want such a thing. Her power came from the ability to lure, to attract, and this man's attraction was clear. And it was right on the edge of her fingers. Yet, she could feel the strength of hard earned muscles rippling beneath her touch, and she could feel the power behind them. It was hard to miss such a thing, when it was presented before her very eyes. Sirius was dangerous, as dangerous as they came, and that only aided in giving her excitement. If there was no risk, why would she play at this game?
Isabella's attraction to this man was purely primal, brought on by his displays of power as well as his physical appearance. Rugged and dangerous, he was like a sharp knife. You knew it would cut you the moment it met your fingertips, but you can't help testing the sharpness of the edge. That was what made her blood race and her loins bubble with desire. She could perform well with a man no matter the situation, but an attraction would help bring out her own pleasure. As a whore, she had to find her own pleasure in her encounters, even if the men were less than desirable. Sirius being so handsome in her eyes only made the scenario that much easier.
This proximity allowed the woman to see the man better. His musk welled up in her nose and she noted the potency and familiarity of it. Did it not define the scent of the borders? Of the land they resided upon? This man was power incarnate and he sat before her. Her fingers were close to his manhood, and she was the one here to please him.
Giving a satisfied murmur and shifting her shoulders, Isabella let a hand snake from his thigh, caressing it as she let it slither upon his manhood with light pressure added to her touches. "My lord is most generous. I know you will find the best job for one of my ilk," she said with a slight coo. A deft and practiced hand squeezed Sirius's precious lower length, coaxing it into fullness. Beneath her hand, she let him rise. Her eyes were set on his solid features, even as she stroked him and he reacted to her touch.
Isabella slowly bobbed her head to his pelvis, allowing him a single touch of caressing tongue. Eyes still intently focused on the Thistle King, the woman pressed forward, breasts against his thighs and the stone throne's seat. "What does my lord desire?" Her strokes continued even as she peered up at him, eyes dancing with mischief and desire. Few men would be as involved if they did not believe their courtesan was not enjoying herself and was not desirous of him in return. It was not hard to show the King of her own desires. For him, it was simpler still and she held the evidence in the palm of her hand.
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