Quentin almost felt for her... But the sight and sheer feral emotion drowned that out. Instead he was smirking, and not entirely for Zoey's father's sake. Hell, it might be business of a sort, but Quentin found himself increasingly excited. The loud cracks of leather on firm flesh grew louder and more insistent by the moment, til it dragged a reaction.<br/><br/>"What are you doing man!" was how it started, followed by a few futile demands that Quentin stop. "Gods man you're going to... Fuck!" Terrance was panicking, and all Quentin had to do was keep his cool, and continue to thrash the very sorry looking arse. Eventually paternal instincts won, and Terrance had a great idea.<br/><br/>"Stop! I will play you for her! Whoever wins this hand gets... Gets my daughter." Quentin stopped and turned with apparent interest. But that wasn't enough.<br/><br/>"I already own her. What if I win? You don't have anything worth half as much as your whore daughter, even if she is spoiled."<br/><br/>"My business! My estate... All my business interests!" he sounded almost pleading, and to Quentin that made him even more pathetic than Zoey was. "They're not what they used to be, granted, but... They're not worthless, either!"<br/><br/>Quentin paused, and play-considered it a moment, before nodding. "Very well... " Before he returned to his chair, he snatched Zoey's hair and pulled her after him with a barked order. "You, clumsy bitch, will suck my prick for all your worth, til the round is done. DON'T pull your pants up."<br/><br/>Terrance's face hardened at the order, but he remained silent save to growl his irritation out. Soon enough, after all, Quentins control would be broken.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>