No use dwelling on the past when the future's staring you right in the face. [ Aranea responds as breezily as she can with her voice lowered as it is, her eyes on his face. She tries to convince herself that there's nothing remotely attractive about the way his lips curve upwards as he tries to combat his nervousness, and in spite of her best efforts, she finds herself recanting against the part of her that's trying to hold her to the opinion of his being ugly in the low light. Even with his hair a mess and his eye bags in full bloom, Aranea finds that she can't tear her gaze away from his face, though she's grateful that she can barely see his freckles like this.
He's cute, and while she'd have no trouble admitting that to anyone else, it seems wrong to boost Prompto's ego by telling him as such. Something about him makes it impossible for her to make this a "one-and-done" deal, and for all of her want, it makes her resent him. Prompto's willingness to endure her whims only serves to make her more agitated, and when he groans, something inside of her flutters. It isn't even a sexual groan, but her body reacts as if it is, her skin patching red with heat. ]
Was that so hard? [ Aranea intones, gratified by his confession. This... This is so fucked up. It's come this far, and she knows full well that she can turn back before it's too late, but-- his hips rise to meet her hand, deliberately or not, and she palms the front of his pants, fingers curling around him through the denim. Her gauntlets make the action a bit awkward, the sensation of him vague through layers of armor and fabric, but she squeezes the juncture between his thighs, getting off on having him pinned beneath her and at her mercy.
She's come this far. She's come this far and there's no denying the heat and want that she feels, and while she channels the two as best she can into pure, unadulterated rage, Aranea can't help the way her body seemingly primes itself to the feeling of him held fast beneath her hips. ]
At this point, there's really no difference, [ Aranea half-purrs as his hands find her ass. The look on his face translates to one of unease, but his hands feel warm against her skin. She shudders in spite of her best efforts, shifting astride him as the hand at his throat flattens against his collarbones, closing her eyes as her hips inadvertently jerk in response to the feeling of his hands on her ass.
She's almost like a beast placated by a fresh kill at this point, her mind feebly protesting as her body gives itself over to the way he feels against her. The hand at the front of his pants clumsily toys with the belt at his hips, managing to unhook it with great effort. When Aranea opens her eyes, she doesn't look at his face, instead focusing on the way her hand looks when it's splayed at the top of his chest. ]
I'm going to fuck you. [ It's more of a statement than anything, or maybe a warning. Her tone is measured and low. ] If you stay in this car, I'm going to fuck you. If you leave now, none of this ever happened, and once I get my money, we're finished. [ She shifts her weight to prove her point, lifting her hips off of him and planting one of her feet against the back of the Regalia's backseat, giving him a way out of the car. While she risks being humiliated by him leaving, she almost prays he does. As far as she's concerned, she's made enough of an ass of herself already. ]
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He's cute, and while she'd have no trouble admitting that to anyone else, it seems wrong to boost Prompto's ego by telling him as such. Something about him makes it impossible for her to make this a "one-and-done" deal, and for all of her want, it makes her resent him. Prompto's willingness to endure her whims only serves to make her more agitated, and when he groans, something inside of her flutters. It isn't even a sexual groan, but her body reacts as if it is, her skin patching red with heat. ]
Was that so hard? [ Aranea intones, gratified by his confession. This... This is so fucked up. It's come this far, and she knows full well that she can turn back before it's too late, but-- his hips rise to meet her hand, deliberately or not, and she palms the front of his pants, fingers curling around him through the denim. Her gauntlets make the action a bit awkward, the sensation of him vague through layers of armor and fabric, but she squeezes the juncture between his thighs, getting off on having him pinned beneath her and at her mercy.
She's come this far. She's come this far and there's no denying the heat and want that she feels, and while she channels the two as best she can into pure, unadulterated rage, Aranea can't help the way her body seemingly primes itself to the feeling of him held fast beneath her hips. ]
At this point, there's really no difference, [ Aranea half-purrs as his hands find her ass. The look on his face translates to one of unease, but his hands feel warm against her skin. She shudders in spite of her best efforts, shifting astride him as the hand at his throat flattens against his collarbones, closing her eyes as her hips inadvertently jerk in response to the feeling of his hands on her ass.
She's almost like a beast placated by a fresh kill at this point, her mind feebly protesting as her body gives itself over to the way he feels against her. The hand at the front of his pants clumsily toys with the belt at his hips, managing to unhook it with great effort. When Aranea opens her eyes, she doesn't look at his face, instead focusing on the way her hand looks when it's splayed at the top of his chest. ]
I'm going to fuck you. [ It's more of a statement than anything, or maybe a warning. Her tone is measured and low. ] If you stay in this car, I'm going to fuck you. If you leave now, none of this ever happened, and once I get my money, we're finished. [ She shifts her weight to prove her point, lifting her hips off of him and planting one of her feet against the back of the Regalia's backseat, giving him a way out of the car. While she risks being humiliated by him leaving, she almost prays he does. As far as she's concerned, she's made enough of an ass of herself already. ]