Roan was no stranger to turning lovers heads. She was pulled along when he played on the stage. Her kiss was perfectly supple, and accepting of his. She wasn't happy with this conversation, and it left her with her little bodily protests which were his aphrodisiac. Every time she answered, it seemed to come at a cost to her - if there was anything as cost to someone who had all time in the world. She was perfectly unlaced by the attention from his lips, and he thought it looked better on her than any of the women.<br/><br/>She was allowed to retreat as far as the elasticity of her clothing would stretch. It wasn't much. "You could fight you way in." he suggested, if the gates didn't open willingly for her. "Don't they have holes in their security too?" he wondered and built scenarios in his head. For as much more he knew than most men, he didn't have an inkling of Heaven's magnitude, or how it worked. It was hard to take note when every nerve in your skull was fighting to make sense of the sensory abuse that came with even a short flash of images.<br/><br/>"Where are you going?" The Fox asked the wing-clipped bird, hollow eyes in tilted head. He pulled her by her shirt and kissed her forehead softly, holding on to her skull with careful fingertips. "So, as much as Heaven ignores us, you mean even less to it?" he wondered into her skin before his palms pressed against her ears and her temples. Despite her curves, she was a light person compared to what his body could hoist, and he stood up slowly, covered cock in her face, before lifting her by the grip he had. When she slipped first, he grabbed her by that hair instead, and was successful in getting height, bringing her feet off the floor to then throw her on her back on the table, their dishes rattling.<br/><br/>He took more chicken, from her plate, and stuffed it in his mouth as he straddled her and held her down by her wrists. "I won't be punished for what I'm doing to you?" he posed, muffled, as he let one of her wrists go to bring about the knife he'd placed by her plate. He lifted it with familiar intent and then slammed it down on her still held-down palm, to stake it to the table. "It's basically a null-action, isn't it? A lowly monkey playing with someone who was cast out." he mussed as he would still her with his hips over hers, if she fretted. "What kind of angel were you, that they didn't want you?"<br/><br/>While he was doing truly cruel things, battering her with concepts as well as pain, he was attached to her, becoming obsessed. It was not the most flattering kind of fixation, but it wasn't void of emotion more than he wanted to act out. He crushed every bone and ground the meat before shifting it to one cheek. He was hungry, and he was feeding himself with all that he wanted. Decadence ruins everyone it touches. He wanted to hear her woman's voice taking angelic punishment.