Delightful. Simply delightful.<br/><br/>There was really no other way to describe that wonderful shattering of the firm facade River used at such a simple comment. Lessard was a man who said very little, but spoke volumes all the same, as was mde certain in that immediate moment when the man turned away in such a shaken manner. It was all the whore could do to not laugh at such a reaction, however he held himself perfectly and took a slow and purposeful stride towards the seated client, a deep glimmer in those expressive eyes.<br/><br/>"Your 'passions', hmm...?" He ventured, his voice soft yet lethal; as though ti wavered on a knife edge. "What might they be, my dear client?" He used such a possessive form of address because by this point he was certain that River would not wish to persue any other; the marks upon that slender and tantalising flesh were proof enough, and while Lessard found himself disapproving of the blunt marking (his own were much more elegant)... He found the boy's partial honestly to be amusing.<br/><br/>He knew, of course, what the client wanted but it was part of the delicate balance he employed between being attentive to his clients needs (he was, after all; a whore) and maintaining the dominance over them; to make each person tell him what they wanted... What they<em>needed</em>. "Do you believe there is one here who can control these... Shameful passions?" It was clear in his tone that he found nothing shameful about it; it was all merely a part of the game he played...