Laius stared at her as she woke up. All the stages of her confusion and fright were addictive. She was nowhere as confident now as when he'd seen her in the shop first time, glasses buried in the cover of a record. He took his time letting her gather her properties about her situation, and nodded slowly when she deduced who he was and where she'd seen him, like it would inevitably delight her. He brought his face closer to hers when she asked him to let her go. It was a formality, her begging, but he enjoyed it. "You can tell people." he assured her. "It'll be the story of our first date."<br/><br/>She shied from his touch to her cheek and tried to do the same with his lower hand. It didn't stop him from painting glistening saliva on her naked mounds, massaging them firmly at his leisure. He was still looking at her from where he sat by her feet. Really, it was lovely to see the forward girl so subdued. His free hand curled a finger around a loop in her fishnets, and tugged playfully. He laughed loudly, suddenly, when she tried to put her knees together, and then started stroking down the cleft of her sex, up and down with still slick fingers.<br/><br/>"You wanna go, Latrice?" he asked. "But you haven't even been here that long yet." He was a confident and frequent lover, so no matter the design of her long petals, he was going to find her little bud, and start circling it with his fingertip, to see if he could make her warm and dewy. Hormones can be persuaded by adrenaline. He was quiet for a few minutes, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of her sex's approval even if her upper mouth wouldn't give him such satisfaction yet. Eventually he sighed with something that could have been interpreted as satisfaction over a quaint interaction.<br/><br/>"Oh yeah, remember last week when we talked over the 80's rock rack?" He'd been a little more abrasive than usual, trying for her attention. It was no coincidence that particular rack was in a corner, where he'd funneled her. He'd thought he was making headway, but in reality she'd been either polite, or charmed but not enough to want to reciprocate. "I asked you something." he reminded her, and the poison of his tone was contaminating the façade of being a gentle host, something rumbling at the tail of his syllables. "I asked you..." he started, voice stale now.<br/><br/>"If you were seeing someone!" it was a guttural bark, deep from his guts and wrenching his throat on the way out. With the sudden burst of noise, he also stabbed a finger into her, to feel what temperature her cunt was, simply because she was irresistible to him. His own lips were coated in spittle, and his eyes were alive with mania, a beautiful display of devotion she'd not wanted. Hair fell into one of the green eyes, which underlined his wildness and unpredictability. Hit other hand grabbed her dress and pulled her closer, despite her limited ability to move. The fabric tore around the pull. "I saw some guy on your social media." the finger swirled inside her. "Do you wanna tell me who he is?" he asked, still with the gravel in his mouth.