[Recilps.Eugor]

She endured his touch, allowing his arms, hands and eyes to roam where ever they wished. Radia did not mind the attention he lavished on her. In fact, normally, she would revel in it, but there was something else on her mind. She kept the pale eyes on the seemingly terrified Were. "Darmitri..." The word on her tongue was smooth, and she seemed to take great care in pronouncing it rather slowly, perhaps even seductively.

She felt Vincent's nuzzle, his hand petting her hips, but the simple thought had not disappeared from her mind. It had been a very long time since Radia indulged, since she had a slave. And suddenly, looking at the seemingly terrified Were before her, she wanted one. A sepcific one. She wanted a Were slave. Better than anything, she wanted him. She heard Vincent's suggestion to let the Were wander back to his father, but it fell on nearly deaf ears. "No..." She spoke simply. Radia, if anything, was spoiled. What Radia wanted Radia got. "I want him..." She mused, turning away from Vincent to press her hands on either side of Darmitri's face. "Have you ever has a master, Little Were...?"

And a realization slid across her mind. Here she was, standing between two men, music pulsing in the background. The faint hint of attraction in her air. Perhaps it was the Were, perhaps it were Vincent, mayhaps it was even her. The urge to dance tickled her senses, she wouldn't be able to wait for an answer, there was an itch in her gut that only dancing would cure.

She pushed away from the wall and paced a bit, groaning lightly.