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poeticmisery (poeticmisery) wrote in manchester_rpg,

Desmond would watch her quietly as he pulled her into his lap, watching the bashful expression that she had upon her features. He remembered having done such before to young ladies in waiting in the halls of great princes in his youth, watching as they blushed and would then quietly whisper what to do if he wanted to sneak into their bed chambers after the darkness hit and relieve them of their 'solemn duty'. Some, however, like Raina, would be a bit more bashful about such desires, and a relative few simply played along because they thought it was expected of them. Desmond would easily let those go, there was no point in forcing his affections upon others when there were more that simply wanted his attention.

Still, he could see that Raina wasn't by any means put off by his flirtations, but instead, something more. He could see the way that her chest started to rise and fall, pushing out her white dress a little further as it started to get heavier, and his pale blue eyes caught the way that she looked at his fangs, then looked down at his chest. It was not perhaps as good of a view as she had the other evening, however, where he had been shirtless, but she would see that the dark shirt that he wore was stretched tight over his muscles, dark indentations revealing where hardened muscles were, giving her perhaps a flawless mental image of what exactly she had seen the other night, allowing her to picture what lay beneath.

He could see her breath start to increase as she looked at him, her eyes unfocusing as she seemed to drift off into her own little world of fantasy perhaps, or a world of thought. Though the distinction over which it was seemed to be clear as her cheeks began to color that soft hint of colored hue, which caused Desmond to smile a little, then gently raise a hand up to touch the bottom of her chin to guide her face up to face his own, his own face leaning in softly a few inches. There were still a good 6 between the both of them, perhaps sadly for her, but even so there was that look of potential there, his eyes half lidding as if at any moment he might claim her lips for his own.

"I hope m'lady is not off fantasizing about me when I am right here before her..." Desmond said with the most eloquent tone as his leather gloved hands brushed across her cheek lightly. "After all, why trapse off into the land of dreams when you have the power in your hands right now to make them a reality?" he whispered in a soft husky tone, watching her face as he did it. It was a deep flirtation, true, but then, Desmond had come from a time when a woman was less likely to leap upon you and actually take what she wanted as well, rather than simply giggling and whispering a private location in the hopes that affections might be returned. Likewise it was not quite as expected that one would give into ones desires either as it was in this day, but Desmond of course, only had the faintest inkling of that.

"A rather fine wine..." Desmond answered quietly as he glanced over at the bottle of the stuff, and smiled back at her. "It is rather good, if you would like me to pour the other bottle, the bouquet is rich enough that it is still probably perfectly chilled from being in that cellar where I bought it. Alas, there is nothing to go with it, but I did not expect to have the companionship of the fairer sex this fine afternoon." Desmond said softly, watching as she took the bottle in her hands, studying it. "I must say though that I do find it interesting how very expensive it has become to get a good wine these days. Balthazar, and old teacher of mine, had taught me that I should invest things in gold rather than paper currency, but now I wonder if it is not simple enough to store a few good bottles of wine away some place and sell them for a fortune after a hundred years..."