"You with a stuffy old Russian ball and chain? Perish the thought," Ash replied with a chuckle, "At least your aunt is smart enough to know that not every good bloodline comes out of Russia. And hoping . . . really?" He paused at the doorway into what sometimes felt like another world. Ash would never compare Sera to a woman in a high-end brothel,, but he would say that sometimes her high-class tastes made her appear more mature than the seventeen-year-old she was, and that he was about to take part in some illicit affair.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Ash said entering the room following Sera after a brief period standing at the threshold with a positively handsome (and insufferable) smirk upon his lips. A bit of devilish amusement in his color-changing eyes accompanied the swagger in. He took the door and closed it behind him, though his eyes remained fixated upon Sera.
He looked down at her, "What exactly makes you want it to be me? Besides my virility, of course, and my excellent performance in the bedroom."