Thread: The Menagerie  >>Haruchai and Gypsy<<

The bustle of the cafe seemed to dim as the trio took their seats and yet James did not let it bother him. It seemed that sometimes the general populace drew back from them, as if the taint of the preternatural clung to them, unseen by others but felt by them. The unexplained chill, or the electricity that ran across the nape of the neck. It afforded James and his little entourage a bit of privacy, though he quirked a brow and watched as Lorelei stood, the scalding beverage running off her pants. Unbidden, the image of her stripping from those fabrics entered the Ringmaster's mind, though the thoughts did not stop there. Like a picture show in his head he saw him bending Lorelei over the very table they ate at, sweeping aside the dishes with his arm as he bent her over, her bottom jiggling as her pants were ripped from her and he took her from behind for the rest of the cafe to see, the crowd watching and yelling, cheering. He snapped from his reverie as Lorelei's voice insisted that they go to Whitechapel and what could James say, truly? He could forbid her to go, which would raise more questions and stoke her curiosity to a bright flame instead of smoldering embers. We shall go. he said simply, only a trace of reticence in his tone as the serving girl finally came back with a towel. Taking the cloth from the girl James sent her to replace his coffee while he reached over to dab at the liquid now quickly cooling on Lorelei's pants. It was done without a thought, at first, but soon the realization dawned upon him that he wiped at Alice's lap and groin, a reaization that did not make him pause in his care and instead those images were brought to the fore once again. James could not explain why he thought as he did, and yet he thought of none other withint the menagerie that way. Only Lorelei, Alice. Only her. Licking his lips he spoke up. I think that is about all we can do for now. Give them to Flask to be washed when we get back. he told her. Flask was one of Bennie's best friends and always seen with the flask he drank from. Flask insisted it was tea, though if ut were true, was a strange brew. James' eyes settled on Lorelei's with an earnest light and he seemed to consider her a moment before he said, I will take you myself. Though we must be sure to return in time for the show tonight. The severe gaze swept to Salazar, to whom James had no animosity, and his voice was soft and quiet, though any meek soul could recognize the predatory undertones, silky and dangerous. Will you be accompanying us? he asked. Twas a simple question, and James would not deny the man his travels, nor his company, yet something within the Ringmaster yearned to have Lorelei to himself. It was a growing desire, a rapaciousness and a raw concupiscence that he was finding harder and harder to deny. Sometimes the mere sight of her brought forth a deep aching in his loins and he had to call upon his considerable will not to force himself upon her. What scared him most was the designs within his mind on ways to keep her when she was not even truly his! Salazar for example - he could shed the blood of the man, rip him limb from limb, for simply daring to accompany them. James had no quarrel with the man and yet the handlers close proximity to Lorelei brought forth a possessive nature from him. He waited patiently for the man's answer.