He stood still, allowing her to look him over from every angle, he had to be something of a sight to behold, creams, and blacks dancing all over his features in a way that seemed so methodical it was almost as if they were drawn on him. Slowly he would sit, a yawn escaping him but never fully breaking the grin plastered on his face. She asked if he desired to make her day worse and he could do nothing else but smile wider. "Perish the thought." He chuckled.
He allowed her to come as close to him as she desired, allowing his own musk of desire and need to waft toward her. He was going insane, just the scent of her was going to make him explode, he was going to make sure she enjoyed this, make sure she'd come to him every summer begging to be taken again. Luce was a distant and all but gone memory.
Walk this way