[Somewhere, common sense reminds Vietnam that she has never really gone with a man so immediate like this, no matter how handsome he is. Just a little bit earlier, he even said he was going to kill her. In fact, she would wonder if she would even consider this right at this very moment, if he did not suggest that to replenish him, sex was the answer.

And yet here she is, so easily reeled in. Each laugh, smile, the way his red eyes flash. He's a hunter, and she's intrigued. How would this go? She wants to know. He says he would allow her to command him, and he would obey, but she's sure the playing field is much more even than that.]

I could, and I will. [She punctuates that, forcing him to remember it. Though, she will admit, how he handles it is rather entertaining.] But you're right. I believe there is something we now must get out of the way. [And that is, indeed, she's going to toss common sense out temporarily, for a man who said he is now bound to her.

She breathes deeply, her back curves so that her chest meets his hand, trying not to react too obviously as a shiver runs down her spine. Her fingers trace down his chest in response, feather light, following the lines of his uniform, her legs turn enough to slide between his thighs, pressing them suggestively.]

You're the expert, no? What do you think? Do you think I like it enough to allow you to steal me like your women?

[And so it begins: her body says one thing, her mouth, another.]