Desmond slowly stood up, and walked up beside Iris. A few of the other patrons were staring now, no doubt. Desmond did take note of the considerable power that the whip packed, but he had a certain confidence about him that was part alcohol, part willpower. His form was rather lithe, and he was just a few inches taller than Iris, but he was muscled and stood with a powerful posture.<br/><br/>"Shall we find somewhere a bit more private, or what? If you're supposed to make me cry, I'd rather not let all these others see it... However doubtful." By now, it was definite. Desmond must have had a seed of masochism deep down inside of himself. One of his hands would go and wrap snugly around Iris' waist. He was intentionally teasing her now, goading her on.