lilith ✝ masha yurevich (whorrifically) wrote in monte_logs, @ 2012-02-23 22:11:00 |
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A lamb to the slaughter, that's what Cain was. But perhaps it was Abel who was the lamb, and Cain the little wolf. Lilith doubted he wore the sheep's fleece, as he seemed a poor actor. He was genuine. Genuine enough to sicken her some.
The succubi had been the first to the club, wrapped up in a little gold dress, thigh highs, and gladiator heels. A pretty little package waiting to be unwrapped. But if Cain played his cards wrong, if he didn't cooperate or ruined her night, there would be only playing. No promises, no kisses. Nothing to leave him guessing unless she dropped an inconspicuous touch against his groin.
And oh, would he remember her then.
Lilith didn't seat herself at the bar, instead remaining on her feet, idly twirling a pinky finger in her vodka tonic. If she couldn't have Eve, she'd play with her children one by one.