He looks up from the bar; her green eyes are on him again.
The bourbon emboldens him. “Like a drink?”
“No,” she says. “Take me home instead.”
She drives. Her house is dark, remote.
“I like solitude,” she explains.
She lights incense and candles, hands him wine, kisses him with searing passion.
He obeys. Slowly, she unbuttons her black dress. She’s nude beneath; the pentacle tattooed upon her bare mound mesmerises.
“What do you want?” he whispers.
“Willing sacrifice.” She eyes the hardness at his loins. “And you’re mine”
He nods, craving her touch. He is hers. Forever.