(( Slightly NSFW Conclusion of that night... ))
The next morning...
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Spoiler
As at dinner, it was clear that Jameson Taeros spared no expense. The penthouse suite of the Mizzenmast was a sight to behold in and of itself. Coatleque had only seen its rival within the Palace of Ul'dah itself. For a moment she wished she were here on more agreeable terms.
Crossing the suite she made her way to the large bed across from the balcony windows. Four long posts rose to a covered awning with long silk curtains draped on all sides. Two of these were pulled aside already revealing the aforementioned silk garments from only half a bell earlier splayed out on the blankets. She wasted no time in changing, and climbed into the bed to wait. How long had it been since she had last done this? Over two years by now. She began to feel light-headed at the realization of what she was doing before shaking it off and reminding herself this was not forced. She chose to be here this time.
Jameson wasted no time in his arrival either. Whatever business he had planned, he most likely hurried through or put off on her account. Her heart almost leapt again at the thought that he may actually have such desire for her, and she did her best to bury that notion reminding herself that she had job to perform. This was a trade of services, not emotions.
He joined her after a few moments and they conversed in hushed, soft tones. He took his liberties of course, in the way he viewed her, caressed, held her hands. It became harder for her to concentrate. He asked her questions, personal ones, where is her family, what are her desires, loves, and fears. What she was ashamed of. She responded in vague answers, half-truths, or simply shrugged him off where she could. Though he expressed genuine interest, he was also displeased when she tried to evade, reminding her that this was all a part of their bargain. She had no answer to this, her honor compelled her to delve deeper. However she was also practised in this game - turning his questions back in the form of a wanting glance, change of view, or the removal of something... in the way.
Not till he was sufficiently satisfied with her answers did he collect on the remainder of their bargain, and by then she no longer cared. And collect he did. It was no longer business to him, but a show of who was truly in charge, and she was made to feel it. The wine had done its part though, and if her pride was wounded she made no show of it. His hands, rough and calloused, were not what she would expect from a nobleman, and a large but curious scar ran diagonally across his back. These combined with his confessed regret at this deal, only served to fuel her fascination of him.
Later that night she watched him from the bed, both of them silent. She drifted off with him in view, curious as to why he allowed her to stay. There was something more to this man, and she wanted to know what it was. Her last thought, strangely, was one of contentment.
As at dinner, it was clear that Jameson Taeros spared no expense. The penthouse suite of the Mizzenmast was a sight to behold in and of itself. Coatleque had only seen its rival within the Palace of Ul'dah itself. For a moment she wished she were here on more agreeable terms.
Crossing the suite she made her way to the large bed across from the balcony windows. Four long posts rose to a covered awning with long silk curtains draped on all sides. Two of these were pulled aside already revealing the aforementioned silk garments from only half a bell earlier splayed out on the blankets. She wasted no time in changing, and climbed into the bed to wait. How long had it been since she had last done this? Over two years by now. She began to feel light-headed at the realization of what she was doing before shaking it off and reminding herself this was not forced. She chose to be here this time.
Jameson wasted no time in his arrival either. Whatever business he had planned, he most likely hurried through or put off on her account. Her heart almost leapt again at the thought that he may actually have such desire for her, and she did her best to bury that notion reminding herself that she had job to perform. This was a trade of services, not emotions.
He joined her after a few moments and they conversed in hushed, soft tones. He took his liberties of course, in the way he viewed her, caressed, held her hands. It became harder for her to concentrate. He asked her questions, personal ones, where is her family, what are her desires, loves, and fears. What she was ashamed of. She responded in vague answers, half-truths, or simply shrugged him off where she could. Though he expressed genuine interest, he was also displeased when she tried to evade, reminding her that this was all a part of their bargain. She had no answer to this, her honor compelled her to delve deeper. However she was also practised in this game - turning his questions back in the form of a wanting glance, change of view, or the removal of something... in the way.
Not till he was sufficiently satisfied with her answers did he collect on the remainder of their bargain, and by then she no longer cared. And collect he did. It was no longer business to him, but a show of who was truly in charge, and she was made to feel it. The wine had done its part though, and if her pride was wounded she made no show of it. His hands, rough and calloused, were not what she would expect from a nobleman, and a large but curious scar ran diagonally across his back. These combined with his confessed regret at this deal, only served to fuel her fascination of him.
Later that night she watched him from the bed, both of them silent. She drifted off with him in view, curious as to why he allowed her to stay. There was something more to this man, and she wanted to know what it was. Her last thought, strangely, was one of contentment.
The next morning...
