RONIN
"What's that?" Ronin asks, his words a rough sort of whisper as she arches and rubs back against him. Wanton and distracted by her own lust, she's the perfect show in his opinion, and his chin tilts a little towards the bartender as if trying to persuade himself to think with both heads for a little while longer. Except gods, now the whore is touching herself and that's an answer enough to Ronin's question, and the increasingly tipsy Star can only mumble an acknowledgement of favours.
But wouldn't you know it, Cian really does have impeccable timing. Glancing over his shoulder (his head lolls a bit), Ronin offers a toast to the eye with the near-empty bottle. "Your moments take quite a long time, you know," he informs the other man, his accent lilting around the words in a sing-song manner.
But wouldn't you know it, Cian really does have impeccable timing. Glancing over his shoulder (his head lolls a bit), Ronin offers a toast to the eye with the near-empty bottle. "Your moments take quite a long time, you know," he informs the other man, his accent lilting around the words in a sing-song manner.
one more wish for you
