[ Aranea feels that Prompto should feel guilty; barring the fact that she had a tendency to launch idle threats in his general direction, she had come to his rescue with little fanfare, fingerfucked him, and sucked him off to orgasm. All without charging him any extra! The Commodore is a modern day saint if there ever was one, and this guy repays her by having her take him out on a date.
Aranea isn't sure what's stupider: the fact that he's doing this or the fact that she's actually going along with it. ]
Don't put this on me! If I hadn't shown up, you'd have found your own way out. I just expedited the process. [ Aranea scoffs at what he says next, indignant. ] As if I'd ever want to be around you when your cock isn't involved!
[ She says that last bit a little too loudly, much to the scandal of the small scattering of tourists seated near the front of the resort. It isn't long until they're seated in the relative darkness of their table, however, keeping them safe from prying eyes. The longer she glowers at him, the more frenzied her mind becomes in desperation for a plan to exact her revenge. Aranea seems content to glare a hole in the place of every single one of his stupid freckles before she's seized by a devil of a thought, her angered expression slowly melting into one of devious smugness.
Aranea is on her third (and a half) glass of wine before she responds to his second confession of the night, delicately lifting one of her legs and nestling her foot between the crux of his thighs. Anyone looking will likely get an eyeful of what has to be some sort of terrifying sexy poolboy/sugar mama exchange, but the Commodore couldn't give less of a flying fuck. ]
Yeah? I think I might love you, too. [ She purrs, a slow scimitar of a smirk crossing her lips. When their server returns, she grabs him by the tie, yanking him down and murmuring something into his ear. He snaps to attention almost immediately, rushing off to the gods know where without so much as taking their order.
Aranea swigs the rest of her glass down, pouring the remainder of the bottle into it and lamenting when it doesn't quite reach the rim of the cup. ]
I ordered for you. Eat fast. We've got somewhere to be.
[ The bottom of her boot gently rubs against the front of his pants as she takes another sip, almost nonchalant in the way she glances around. Her face colors a lovely shade in the half-darkness, her teeth catching the glint of the candlelight as she grins the grin of an apex predator who has their quarry beneath their heel.
It doesn't take long for their server to return, with what looks like the entirety of the Quay's kitchen with him. Aranea smiles toothily at Prompto as her glass is refilled, platters and platters of gourmet dishes being set out on the table between the two of them. Her foot never once leaves its perch. ]
You can't say I never did anything good for you, sweetheart.
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Aranea isn't sure what's stupider: the fact that he's doing this or the fact that she's actually going along with it. ]
Don't put this on me! If I hadn't shown up, you'd have found your own way out. I just expedited the process. [ Aranea scoffs at what he says next, indignant. ] As if I'd ever want to be around you when your cock isn't involved!
[ She says that last bit a little too loudly, much to the scandal of the small scattering of tourists seated near the front of the resort. It isn't long until they're seated in the relative darkness of their table, however, keeping them safe from prying eyes. The longer she glowers at him, the more frenzied her mind becomes in desperation for a plan to exact her revenge. Aranea seems content to glare a hole in the place of every single one of his stupid freckles before she's seized by a devil of a thought, her angered expression slowly melting into one of devious smugness.
Aranea is on her third (and a half) glass of wine before she responds to his second confession of the night, delicately lifting one of her legs and nestling her foot between the crux of his thighs. Anyone looking will likely get an eyeful of what has to be some sort of terrifying sexy poolboy/sugar mama exchange, but the Commodore couldn't give less of a flying fuck. ]
Yeah? I think I might love you, too. [ She purrs, a slow scimitar of a smirk crossing her lips. When their server returns, she grabs him by the tie, yanking him down and murmuring something into his ear. He snaps to attention almost immediately, rushing off to the gods know where without so much as taking their order.
Aranea swigs the rest of her glass down, pouring the remainder of the bottle into it and lamenting when it doesn't quite reach the rim of the cup. ]
I ordered for you. Eat fast. We've got somewhere to be.
[ The bottom of her boot gently rubs against the front of his pants as she takes another sip, almost nonchalant in the way she glances around. Her face colors a lovely shade in the half-darkness, her teeth catching the glint of the candlelight as she grins the grin of an apex predator who has their quarry beneath their heel.
It doesn't take long for their server to return, with what looks like the entirety of the Quay's kitchen with him. Aranea smiles toothily at Prompto as her glass is refilled, platters and platters of gourmet dishes being set out on the table between the two of them. Her foot never once leaves its perch. ]
You can't say I never did anything good for you, sweetheart.