There was some of the original Ilona mingled with the woman he'd created. Old mood, annoyed, entitled, but also this now, curious and confused - longing. Aerill knew he had an effect, even though her body tensed when he brought her along. She still had her reflexes even though he was showing her what things even a villain's body is good for. She was learning the lesson well, her inner did not cling to its maidenhood the way her father had. A girl her age wanted to be free, and patriarchs especially refuse to see that.<br/><br/>For all her hiding, it wouldn't take a hawk's eye to detect her lingering attention on the limb she'd painted with her forced truth. Beautiful princess, the last of her blood, finding bodily bliss and now fighting it by averting her focus. Didn't she know this was even more pleasing to him? He'd have her abandon soon enough. Ilona had only known him for their initial night, after all. He had many more faces for her. He liked her's too, when she wore the fact of their recent activity together, breathing hard and and flushed. Like he didn't know where her concentration went when she slowly closed her eyes.<br/><br/>He was transfixed on her when she decided to come. Her primal intelligence was teaching her as she made her way, how the body should revel in itself while moving during these carnal meetings. He was excited, and a wave in the flesh she'd become so fond of let her know. What a treat, to see her like this. Air hitched in his throat when the buds of her breasts, hard to greet him, wandered over his legs. Aerill leaned back to try and restrain himself. Coaxing her would have no real value if he lost himself and simply had at her again, even if they'd both enjoy it. He was vying for her complicity.<br/><br/>One bladed brow asked her what she meant with her words - it was especially confusing when he was distracted by her hovering, dewy eden, and her steadying hand on him. His head didn't move when he clapped his face, but redness flared to commemorate her palm-to-cheek game. Hot vapor ran over his lips when she sat down on his waiting flesh. He put his head back against the board and sighed almost painfully at the ceiling.<br/><br/>"But now you've lost that privileged." he whispered with condolences. "Better hold on now, princess." But he would still do what he intended if she didn't. His hand quickly went around her hips so he could pull her further down. It was rather harsh, but she was rather ready. He bounced her soon, controlling her even though she was ontop. Ilona didn't hate this. He was putting appreciation into her, which he would nurture to a hunger and then an addiction.<br/><br/>He swayed her back, so he could pull her toward him, their lips locking for a moment as he continued to applaud his own body with hers. He learned her tensions and reflexes soon, and created an even rhythm at which to dress his cock with her. It was a little like self-satisfaction, and she was his tool for doing so. Would she see the appeal in becoming a toy for his pleasure? He grinned in the darkness, as much as he delighted expression would allow.<br/><br/>He looked down between them. It was nearly impossible to see anything, but sometimes the candle rays found an angle, to show him outlines of his member, repeated swallowed up by her. Her breasts waved at him to assure of the meter at which she was being played with. His tongue flicked one of the little pebbles that liked him far more than she did. Her hands were still free to do whatever they pleased. "You're also perverse, Ilona." Aren't you?