Valerian hummed in understanding, if not wholly in agreement. She’d experienced the dissatisfaction before, of course. Many times before. Men were such selfish beasts, after all. But she’d learned early on to always place her needs above theirs. Especially when first discovering the unending climb of her all too active libido.
The most important lesson she’d learn was to use them. Mercilessly, shamelessly, until she’d had her fill and lost interest. Men did it all the time, use women in flagrant disregard to their wants and needs. And why should they have all the fun. Valerian also wanted to enjoy a little reprobate, hedonistic, dissolution. Unapologetic, she took what she wanted. Always.
With all of that in mind, the solution to using overly confident men who exaggerated their skills and under-performed when put to task, was a simple one. Don’t let them come. With the use of only their fingers, their mouths, and bodies she could bring herself to satisfaction, forgoing that hypersensitive disappointment dangling between their legs altogether. If she was in a very generous mood, a little over the pants rub down would serve as payment for a job well done. Typically they’d worked themselves up so much by then that it wouldn’t take long at all before they’d ruined their pants and she left them to clean up their mess on their own.
But those days were behind her now, as she’d found a particularly skilled playmate who managed to keep not only her interest but undivided attention. It was unprecedented. Valerian’s skepticism wasn’t in the expiration dates of her own interest and attention span, but in his. Amycus was too good to be true. There were sayings about the longevity of that kind of thing.
Even if she had her doubts, she was willing to see how long it’d take before things disintegrated between her and the Carrow heir without any assistance on her part. She hadn’t come out tonight for her own licentious entertainment anyway. Emma Vanity, protégé and understudy, was clearly in desperate need of a good dicking. And what were friends for if not to facilitate a night of quality, anonymous sex?
By the complete lack of hesitation on Emma’s part when she agreed to Valerian’s help, she knew the girl would need something a bit more intense than a quickie in a bathroom stall. “Don’t you worry, Miss Vanity. I know what you need.” She placed her hand back down on Emma’s muscular thigh and squeezed as she came in to press a kiss to her neck, marking the place with the stain of her maroon lipstick.
Hooded eyes surveyed the luxurious bar, skipping over faces in search of the perfect one. None at the bar. The men there were willing, eager and hungry, but they were vanilla and Val was in search of more flavourful desserts. Swivelling in her bar stool, she searched the rest of the room for someone who’d leave a longer lasting impression.
In the lounge area was a wider selection of men. She skimmed over them like one might peruse a selection of meat slabs at a butcher shop. And really, it was such a fitting analogy. When umber eyes fell on a somewhat familiar face, Valerian immediately perked up. A Death Eater, one of the newer recruits, if she remembered correctly, and someone looking to make a name for himself within the rebellion. Val grinned, how perfect.
There was nothing better than a new soldier, blood thirsty, sadistic, and desperate to be acknowledged by his superiors. He’d learned by now the importance of pleasing people more important than himself, and Val easily qualified as that and more. Her connections alone would have him hard in his pants, Emma Vanity would do the rest.
“Oh, I think I’ve found the perfect someone to fuck your troubles away,” she purred, slipping from her seat and taking her freshly poured glass with her. “Don’t be shy, Em. I promised to take care of you tonight, didn’t I?” Emma’s hand was scooped up in her other hand and she pulled the taller woman in the direction of the lounging Death Eater across the room.
He was tall, glowing russet skinned, and utterly glorious. Beneath expensive, designer cotton was an athlete’s physique. And those dark eyes had a precision to them that would’ve made a nicer girl weak in the knees. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember his name. Not that it mattered. Naming things personified them, and tools didn’t get names at any rate.
Dropping Emma’s hand only when they were in proximity of the Death Eater, Valerian greeted him with a viper’s grin and a dusky, “What’s a handsome man like you doing drinking alone?”
His dark gaze bounced between the both of them, the shadow within those rich hues swirled with intent. The glass of amber liquid swirled in his had as he regarded them both. His voice was a deep baritone when he answered, “Just waiting for the right company to show itself.” Those piercing eyes landed on Emma and the corner of his mouth twitched. “I think my luck’s finally turned.”
Val’s smile darkened. Oh, he was good. With a hand on the small of Emma’s back, she urged her forward a bit, saying, “Emma and I were just discussing how her night was sorely lacking in tall, dark, and handsome. You wouldn’t mind keeping us company while we search for someone that fits that description, would you?”
The smirk at the edge of his mouth slithered across the rest of the way. “I don’t mind at all.” He motioned toward the empty seats around him. “It’d be my pleasure.”
“I’m sure it would,” muttered Valerian into Emma’s ear before she took the seat across from the man, leaving the empty chair beside him to be filled by Emma.
There wasn’t anybody else that understood this power other than Valerian. Sure, women knew that they could make men weak in the knees with a simple wink or a helpless smile, but it was rare that they used their bodies effectively- understood how useful all of it could be when getting what they wanted. Valerian understood it, she knew what means she needed to use to get what she wanted done. Women were often chided for their desires, willed to keep them hidden or behind closed doors. None of that ever mattered when it came to Val- it was almost inspirational, considering what… talents Emma Vanity liked to use when trying to reach her end goal.
Her head tilted slightly at the feeling of Val’s lips against her neck, pearly teeth biting down onto her bottom lip as she stifled a groan. Valerian had sensed her troubles correctly, understood the longing that she felt. Perhaps a night of anonymous pleasure was all she needed to get herself through it, the lingering desires doing nothing but distract her from what she needed to get done. With her investigations going nowhere, it seemed useful enough- Valerian’s prowess was strong, her connections even stronger. Who knew what sort of trouble she’d lead her into on this evening?
Her eyes scanned the room all the same as Val spoke, scouring through the soft fog which filled the room with a swirling mystery that frankly, excited the girl. Her eyes glanced towards the intended victim, eyes widening in surprise. She’d felt Val’s arms hooked around hers, leading her way to the lounge. There were many conversations currently at hand, quite whispers swirling about the many seats yet he was alone. She had no doubt in her mind that he was searching just the same, handsome eyes ready for a victim who was willing.
Emma wouldn’t assume that he was like the others. Valerian wouldn’t dare pick such an easy conquest, not when Emma was so restless and finnicky. None of it would’ve made much difference, an easy person to throw away at the end of the night was all she was looking for, and yet it seemed that Valerian had led her straight to the honeypot, an adversary or someone she knew no doubt held knowledge, the sort of knowledge that Emma Vanity had been seeking.
Amber eyes swirled with a sense of hunger that she didn’t dare hide. There was something alluring about the speak-easy, an essence of safety that drew these people to it.
“Yes, so many faces… sometimes it’s difficult to find the right fit.”
Her eyes sparked with mischief as she descended into the seat next to the man, watching him relax just a little, her eyes flickering towards Valerian, a smirk beginning to present itself onto her red lips. She’d held onto her drink, taking another sip of it as her amber eyes glanced up towards her friend, then back at the man. Emma Vanity had always been shrouded in mystery- she wasn’t exactly a girl who said a whole bunch- her sense of mystery had always made her more alluring.
One long leg crossed over the other, body adjusting to the changed setting as her head tilted, smooth locks fanning over her shoulder as she’d watched the man. He seemed well groomed, a pureblood no doubt. Young and striving for greatness in a world that was already full of gods and men. It would be a difficult climb, she knew well enough. Valerian was an ally in such things, if not for her name but her standing.
“Have you found it?” Her words were soft, commanding but still withdrawn, lips parted slightly at her eyes scoured his body. “What you were looking for? I’m sure it wouldn’t be too difficult.”
He seemed relaxed, didn’t quiver the same way that the others did, a common factor when she’d met new faces, especially in the company of Valerian. She noted his eyes, dark as the ocean, reading and calculating. There was something behind them, a curiosity which sparked her interest, ideas which made her aware of how useful this would be, if not for her body but for her investigation.
“I’d like to think so. I’m sure we’ll have the rest of the night to find out.”
Her eyebrow arched slightly, watched as a waitress came over and poured the expensive bottle of champagne into two new glasses, she extended one to Val, holding the other in her hand as she raised it, eyes not daring to leave the man’s.
“To finding what we’re looking for.”
