Her thoughts were true - The King had, indeed, withheld his lust since arriving in the land of 'Souls. There had been many reasons for this; Women in this place were fewer than in London, more cautious and more resistant to the wiles of a wicked man. But that had not been a true reason, for Sirius was a creature born from challenge, and challenge was what drove him, what excited his blood. No, the real reason for his abstinence had been much simpler. Women were distracting, and his plans had taken priority over the welcome warmth of a curvaceous feminine body. Salsola had taken priority. He had not wished to sever his attention from the Thistle Kingdom in its early birth, not even for a moment - Perhaps this dedication was part of the reason why the Family was so strong, so deadly. While he was a man of desires, a predator and a hunter of pleasure, Sirius Revlis was also a true King - One of the last of his bloodline, born of an old throne and a dark-blooded prince.
But temptations had been more and more frequent, of late, and after sharing such pleasure with Eris, the dam had been broken. Isabella had arrived at exactly the time his craving had desired such a creature as she, and thus the woman had surely been presented with the full brunt of Sirius' overflowing desire and sexual frustration. Her body was a euphoria, a sweet succulent fruit he had been depriving himself of for too long. She was, in this moment, truly irresistible.
Elegant fingers curled into the dark locks of his hair, and the man continued his ravenous meal of her puckered flesh, her arched body. His hunger was overwhelming, overpowering. Danger pulsed with every heartbeat - Isabella was in such a vulnerable place, so bold and brash and daring as to put her body between the claws of a killer. She was, however, not the prey of the Hunter; She was, in this time alone, an equal. While his muscular frame might have held the power to rip her apart, to utterly consume her, the whore was indeed the one who held the power here. With sex, he was a chained monster, leashed by her touch, her voice, her smell, and she was the one with the end of the rope.
Her words were breathy, deep and husky, and the man's head rose so that eyes of most deadly and acidic olive could gaze, unhindered, at the flushed sight of her face. Dilate pupils, shrunk so far from arousal that they could barely be seen in the mass of poisonous green, saw within her expression true lust. His black lips peeled back in a ghastly, terrible smile, yellow teeth glittering. "Hushhhh," His hand slid down her body, seeking the hot secret place between her legs. A finger tested her, and his smile grew sharper. "Are you ready for me?"
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