Thalassa
A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor.
His carnivorous gaze has her wanting to step forward, but she waits patiently for his response to her challenge. When his deep voice rumbles through the cave, she barely has time to register them before he is upon her. The heat and strength of his body is so near that she is tempted to let him press against her, but she prefers the delicious tension between them. Instead, she allows herself to lean seductively against the table behind her, letting her hands brace against the wood. Soft clinking echoes as their movements disturbs a few of the long-forgotten trinkets. As he leans down, she turns her head slightly to bare her neck. The low octave of his voice has her taking a deep, catching breath. Thal processes the words faintly, more focused on the warmth of him being so close. Time seems to hang frozen around them, but she isn't interested in holding her breath. She angles her head so that her mouth almost brushes his ear in return. "Not you..." A fanged tooth extends to drag along his earlobe and a low growling accompanies her next word. "Us." The implication is clear enough without her having to say it. And what we can do.
Thal doesn't know this man, but she has an idea of what he can offer her, and she thinks it will be more than enough to satisfy her boredom.
