Xia had bought a penthouse, of course, overlooking the Riviera. For cash, which she just had to let you know. You're still continually surprised that this section of town attracts the richest, most obnoxious of buyers, but you remember where glittering towers of steel and caste-privilege had loomed over slums and dirt-brown destitution when you visited Anjungvarnha with your father.
At this time of night you can see them filling the streets, like ants walking through a particularly inspired maze...students and workers, dealers and whores, everyone scraping by just to eventually see it slurped up by Xia and her ilk.
Greg was...
nothing
compared to this monster, oh the sheer hypocrisy...he knew Isabel wouldn't find it 'cheeky' if she learned he was trying to get off in a woman like Zhao Xia.
"You should have seen what a disaster this place was when I first bought it, Yusuf," Xia purrs casually as she leans against a pillar, decorated with genuine lacquered opera masks from Fuzhou. You've thought about wearing one while you rail her into her bed, but she'd probably get off on that, sick bitch. "Even
I
balked when I saw the thirty six million dollar pricetag, and the renovation...but I just, y'know, really
wanted to show you, Mizrah."
She smiles at you mirthlessly, her fingers delicately twirling a little crystal glass in her hand that probably cost more than what you take from the ATMs you Curse and Break. You turn from the window to look at her with an equal lack of warmth, only where she smirks you grimace, taking her in with equal parts desire and loathing.
"Hm. See you noticing my Moto and Junshi Salmon-Twilight Kimono...easily a year - maybe two? - of your salary to buy one but, you can rip it if you want." She sips from a cup of Maotai Custom Vintage Baijiu - ugh, she drinks like a rich old communist but talks like she grew up in Mayfair. "I have a couple others you can rip too." Xia's delicately pointed chin makes her look like a smiling, malicious praying mantis, slowly pulling up the hem of her robe to reveal ever more thigh.
Words fail you. You've been naked since you entered - there is no need to tent your pants in this place, she can see what she is going up against and you know she loves it...to be brought low in the bedchamber, treated like a back-alley prostitute; no doubt touching some strange part of her aristocrat's psyche, a sense of fluttering, atrophied guilt that needed silencing. Something about it makes you feel disgusting but you already feel transgressive and dirty, the things you've done before Isabel came into your life quietly reminding you that even among monsters, you were a
freak,
like Zhao Xia said.
Instead you wordlessly grab the decanter of whiskey sitting on a table near the window - it's made of crystal, probably hand-crafted with exacting care by someone living in a hut in Anhui, filled with whiskey that smelled incredibly distilled and pure. You're not the biggest fan of hard liquor but you're making a point as you tip it back, chugging it down (augh it's AWFUL) and breaking the empty decanter on the ground, wiping trails of acrid booze from your lips.
"You really don't give a fuck about anyone but yourself, about your own fucking gratification, do you?" you growl self-righteously at her...this, the only person you could even pretend to be morally superior around. Your approach is threatening, the hardness of your manhood bobbing before you but she knows you wouldn't actually
hurt
her; it was...different from Greg, it just was
She was a Mortal woman, and mama taught you to never raise a hand against them - creatures like Lana were a whole different story and frankly free game to terrorize and devour - so it was just...horrible what you became in her presence.
"Not...a single...fuck about
anyone
," she confirms with a breathy exhalation of excitement as your shadow falls over her. "I am a little sore though that you broke my Custom Design Dian-Yi-Pian Crystal De-
caaahhh fuck yeah...
" she trails off as you seized her wrists and press them down at her sides, spilling her drink.
She doesn't give a fuck. She'll pay someone to clean it.
"You gonna kiss me first, at least? That was Macallan 52 Year-Old you chugged. $90k a bottle, I didn't even get a taste." She does that
thing
she does, narrowing her slender eyes and biting lightly at you, shaking her head slightly...how else to describe a motion as predatory as your how you imagine your teeth clapping over her larynx and tearing it away. Like everything about this petit woman, it both excites and repulses you.
"Why should I kiss that liar's tongue, Xia? Why should I even bandy poisoned words with you, even if you do have the nicest smile money can buy?" But...you honestly can't help yourself, because her smooth, golden skin in the place where her jaw meets her neck is terribly alluring and you press your lips against it
"Because, you love what this liar's tongue does to you," she whispers in response and it is a smooth comeback...she gets off using it too.
You reward her, at least, by pressing a hard, ferocious kiss that pins her head back against the pillar. She's already untying the sash holding her robe closed, harsh exhalations and breathy sounds as your tongue-stud drags along her teeth, her hands reaching up to stroke your carven, defined shoulders
"
Nggghhh god
, you're such a goddamn savage Mizrah," she laughs, breaking your kiss. "You didn't get...any more...any more civilized, at all - ohh god bite me..." and you do. She arches her slight, pretty neck to you and you sink your teeth into it - Xia likes it rough. This arrogant bitch thinks she's invincible, no idea you could spray her evil little life all over her walls...you leave a trail of teeth marks down to her shoulder, down to the top of her breast. "Bet you can't...wait...to try and fit that thing in me, can you? Even...if I'm not
wet