[ The only problem with London bars is that they tend to be filled with London people — men, more specifically, who seem to have trouble understanding the rules of personal boundaries. The club that Morgana's brought them to this time is sleek and modern and hip; a recommendation from one of the artists fitting an installation at her gallery. Really, what more should she have expected from a overpaid Tate artiste? By now Gwen should have learned of Morgana's love-hate relationship with her clients.
And speaking of Gwen. Morgana's eyes flash sharp over the rim of her asymmetrical glass. Her lover looks delectable tonight — she's attracting a lot of attention, both male and female, and a part of Morgana is proud to see others appreciating her for the natural beauty that she is. The other part, of course, wants nothing more than to tear out their throats in a shower of fleshy red. ]
Enjoying yourself?
[ Morgana's lips curve into a tight smile. They're a plum-wine red tonight, which compliments her ivory shirt and glossy black pencil skirt, and high stiletto heels give her a couple of inches of extra height. Her free hand strokes over the back of Gwen's neck as a pearl of heat settles between her stockinged legs. Gods, how she wants her, and she leans close to murmur against her ear; ]
f o u r | obviously modern!
[ The only problem with London bars is that they tend to be filled with London people — men, more specifically, who seem to have trouble understanding the rules of personal boundaries. The club that Morgana's brought them to this time is sleek and modern and hip; a recommendation from one of the artists fitting an installation at her gallery. Really, what more should she have expected from a overpaid Tate artiste? By now Gwen should have learned of Morgana's love-hate relationship with her clients.
And speaking of Gwen. Morgana's eyes flash sharp over the rim of her asymmetrical glass. Her lover looks delectable tonight — she's attracting a lot of attention, both male and female, and a part of Morgana is proud to see others appreciating her for the natural beauty that she is. The other part, of course, wants nothing more than to tear out their throats in a shower of fleshy red. ]
Enjoying yourself?
[ Morgana's lips curve into a tight smile. They're a plum-wine red tonight, which compliments her ivory shirt and glossy black pencil skirt, and high stiletto heels give her a couple of inches of extra height. Her free hand strokes over the back of Gwen's neck as a pearl of heat settles between her stockinged legs. Gods, how she wants her, and she leans close to murmur against her ear; ]
You look ravishing tonight, darling.