[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/KKNXj4H.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:left;margin:0 18px;]Challenge accepted, feisty one.
Providence's games should never be too easy when it came to the supernatural, having to ponder just how many tricks up his sleeves did he have to pull to get his partner to willingly spread their tight cunts. Four? Five maybe? No more than ten he'd hoped, otherwise he may have to resort to other measures. Measures that required some discipline and perhaps a little bloodshed. Or a whole lot, it mattered not to the Vereaux as long as he got his point across; He is king and you are a dog. A bitch. A whore. A slave who's sole purpose of living was to service him and nothing more. A warped logic some will argue, but logic nonetheless. So when this feisty Fae had the gall to ask him if he needed something, Providence had already thought of a million different answers he thought would suffice.
But lest not forget the game Providence was playing. Games had rules, strategy, and foresight. Crushing your enemy was dreadfully boring. A good game required time and patience with a bit of suffering in between. Good calls put you two steps ahead bad calls put you two steps behind. No matter, Providence would still be fucking them in the ass no matter the distance.
"Looking for Ki. Hoping to catch good company while I'm around, but I suppose you can fill the void, yeah?"
Grinning, the Fae closed the length between himself and the two women, closely looking over the small and significant details scattered among their person. More so the redheaded Fae than that horn-headed pig he could describe as a succubus. He could be wrong, but Providence couldn't care less. "Sorry, where are my manners? One must first introduce themselves when a greeting a woman of your caliber. I'm Providence Lyon Vereaux," the male greeted, dropping his bag to the floor beside him. "And before you go introducing yourself, let me guess..." Beginning his circle around the female, he thought aloud as he did, "Let's see here... Posture straight indicating you're no slouch. Nails manicured, hair braided up, no bags under the eyes meaning you don't lose sleep over your job signifying you're either really bad or really good. Fitted blazer, lace top that screams professional but also like a beer or two when all is said and done. Tablet under your arm telling me you're here not on vacation, but business..." Providence's eyes then felt a bit lower to where his most favorite part lied, "A skirt I, personally, would love to hike up to see if your ass is as good as I imagine..." He stopped behind the fae, brushing his fingers along her legs as they traveled north towards the hem of her skirt he lifted slightly before leaning in close to her ear. "Oops, forgive me. Those thoughts were a bit too personal, weren't they?"
Now, where was he? Ah! Yes! Providence continued his round once more before stopping in front of the redhead, a full head over her. "Do women really enjoy when men compliment their shoes? If so, those heels are to die for. Which leads me to one conclusion... You're a Watcher. Ki's Watcher, am I right? Still, can't put a name to the pretty face. You arrrrrrrre?" He trailed his question, giving the woman a moment to answer.
Providence's games should never be too easy when it came to the supernatural, having to ponder just how many tricks up his sleeves did he have to pull to get his partner to willingly spread their tight cunts. Four? Five maybe? No more than ten he'd hoped, otherwise he may have to resort to other measures. Measures that required some discipline and perhaps a little bloodshed. Or a whole lot, it mattered not to the Vereaux as long as he got his point across; He is king and you are a dog. A bitch. A whore. A slave who's sole purpose of living was to service him and nothing more. A warped logic some will argue, but logic nonetheless. So when this feisty Fae had the gall to ask him if he needed something, Providence had already thought of a million different answers he thought would suffice.
But lest not forget the game Providence was playing. Games had rules, strategy, and foresight. Crushing your enemy was dreadfully boring. A good game required time and patience with a bit of suffering in between. Good calls put you two steps ahead bad calls put you two steps behind. No matter, Providence would still be fucking them in the ass no matter the distance.
"Looking for Ki. Hoping to catch good company while I'm around, but I suppose you can fill the void, yeah?"
Grinning, the Fae closed the length between himself and the two women, closely looking over the small and significant details scattered among their person. More so the redheaded Fae than that horn-headed pig he could describe as a succubus. He could be wrong, but Providence couldn't care less. "Sorry, where are my manners? One must first introduce themselves when a greeting a woman of your caliber. I'm Providence Lyon Vereaux," the male greeted, dropping his bag to the floor beside him. "And before you go introducing yourself, let me guess..." Beginning his circle around the female, he thought aloud as he did, "Let's see here... Posture straight indicating you're no slouch. Nails manicured, hair braided up, no bags under the eyes meaning you don't lose sleep over your job signifying you're either really bad or really good. Fitted blazer, lace top that screams professional but also like a beer or two when all is said and done. Tablet under your arm telling me you're here not on vacation, but business..." Providence's eyes then felt a bit lower to where his most favorite part lied, "A skirt I, personally, would love to hike up to see if your ass is as good as I imagine..." He stopped behind the fae, brushing his fingers along her legs as they traveled north towards the hem of her skirt he lifted slightly before leaning in close to her ear. "Oops, forgive me. Those thoughts were a bit too personal, weren't they?"
Now, where was he? Ah! Yes! Providence continued his round once more before stopping in front of the redhead, a full head over her. "Do women really enjoy when men compliment their shoes? If so, those heels are to die for. Which leads me to one conclusion... You're a Watcher. Ki's Watcher, am I right? Still, can't put a name to the pretty face. You arrrrrrrre?" He trailed his question, giving the woman a moment to answer.
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