we show off our different scarlet letters
The butcher doesn't rise to the bait of her words, but his silent exasperation has Flora grinning smugly. She's still under the impression that whatever is under Asta's carefully curated mask is something she can handle, perhaps something only she can (Danta aside). It's wildly arrogant and pompous, but then, so what? No one said daddy issues had to be rational.
Were manners and a few droplets of blood all it took to render the butcher docile? Gods but it certainly seemed that way, though luckily even Flora wasn't so naive as to believe it. As he resumed his earlier position on the stones, the queen took her time in pivoting on her knees before stretching out one of her long legs to kneel astride his shoulders as if intending for him to perform an encore of his earlier performance. Perhaps this time he'd earn more than an okay from the queen. While she does tilt her hips forward pressing her lips just above his own, Flora lets her weight sink to one side before leaning forward to tangle her fingers into his dark hair that she might fix his gaze on her. "Now, be a good boy and don't be greedy, mm?" She purrs; a promise was a promise, even if it was one her mind could hardly recall making.
Shifting even more, Flora presses her unmarked thigh against his lips, the tension of her fingertips suggesting that were he inclined to take more than what was on offer, he'd lose a chunk of his lovely hair as penance.
Were manners and a few droplets of blood all it took to render the butcher docile? Gods but it certainly seemed that way, though luckily even Flora wasn't so naive as to believe it. As he resumed his earlier position on the stones, the queen took her time in pivoting on her knees before stretching out one of her long legs to kneel astride his shoulders as if intending for him to perform an encore of his earlier performance. Perhaps this time he'd earn more than an okay from the queen. While she does tilt her hips forward pressing her lips just above his own, Flora lets her weight sink to one side before leaning forward to tangle her fingers into his dark hair that she might fix his gaze on her. "Now, be a good boy and don't be greedy, mm?" She purrs; a promise was a promise, even if it was one her mind could hardly recall making.
Shifting even more, Flora presses her unmarked thigh against his lips, the tension of her fingertips suggesting that were he inclined to take more than what was on offer, he'd lose a chunk of his lovely hair as penance.
