Even as her hand came up to push against him he moved, knowing full and well that remaining in place too long was to give them away. He moved his right leg behind her left, leveraging his weight to hers, twisting her and removing the balance she carefully held. His right hand remained entwined within her hair, but hidden under her locks his hand held her with a care that Mandrake was not known to possess. Had this been a normal assignation, he would not worry about her safety, he would have delivered the full and unrequited skill of a born tormentor upon a patron. But something about this scenario was wrong, it chilled him, and he felt her to be in danger. That someone would threaten a member of the Court of the Night, and abuse the gifts they so provided, infuriated him. It worried him as well.<br/><br/>Gravon knew he could betray nothing, not one moment of his thoughts to those assembled. To do so would leave them undone, and so another dance was created in this moment. As Genevieve fell the hand holding flogger reversed its grip, taking it closer to the tongs, and placed it across her waist like a corded leather belt. To the unwise, it looked painful, the rough treatment of the woman he had just meant. But they would know differently. He had broken her fall, removing the pain of landing atop the tiles with the placement of the flogger. All flash, no report, something had indeed worried the young man, and in his mind his art was in peril as much as the young woman in front of him.<br/><br/>The patrons and guest would see him forcing her to the floor, sending her to her knees, his body following, his knees splayed outside of hers, controlling her position. They would see the arch of her spine, the jutting of her breasts as his hand and tool poised her for display, the sylphlike body before that of the beast. His masked face lowered, and like a creature from myth his white teeth emerged to sink into the flesh at her shoulder. He bent forward, again hiding his mouth as he spoke so very silently.<br/><br/>"I do not Jest, we must be careful," he Paused and in a formal tone he spoke again," Eclipse is my word, it is sacred, I will use it should you loose yourself to your calling." To the patrons delight he began the slow rise of the handle of the flogger, drawing it level across her skin. The wrapped and oiled leather a dark contrast to the flawless beauty beneath it. He paused it under her breasts, lifting them with light force as if presenting them to the audience. There was a murmur of approval at the sight, their bodies so close, his atop hers in a prelude to the action that would soon commence.<br/><br/>From behind other patrons lost the display of the flogger, instead they saw a man nearing the dominance of the woman in front of him. They saw stretched flesh atop toned muscle, the hint of the arousal that even now grew between his legs. The dark sheath of the boots compared to the snow white of her flesh. it was meant to be visual, it was meant to be decadent, and neither Gravon or Genevieve disappointed.