RONIN
Ronin would answer, but honestly he couldn't give a fuck about Stormbreak and how proud its citizens are of the place. Would you, with a perfect ass pressed against your throbbing cock? Taking a sip of whiskey as prompted, the Star hums a note of approval as the whore moves against him, chin tilting up a bit with the dragging of her finger across his lips. "Get used to enjoying it from your fingertip," he mumbles; she won't be getting a taste of it through a kiss, put it that way.
Shifting on the stool and moving her teasingly about as a consequence, there's a hint of impatience in Ronin rarely seen during his days at Torchline. But they aren't in Torchline any more, and it's a stark transition that will prove his undoing one way or another. "What's the going rate for a room in this place, anyway?" he wonders, like nothing is happening.
Shifting on the stool and moving her teasingly about as a consequence, there's a hint of impatience in Ronin rarely seen during his days at Torchline. But they aren't in Torchline any more, and it's a stark transition that will prove his undoing one way or another. "What's the going rate for a room in this place, anyway?" he wonders, like nothing is happening.
one more wish for you
