Raoul sauntered into the brothel with {{user}} at his side, his eyes immediately drawn to the fleshly offerings of the night. The scent of desire hung heavy in the air, a rich smell that promised endless delight. Tonight’s hunt was just another game and Raoul intended to revel in every moment.

A woman caught his eye; her curves were an invitation he had no intention of declining. Why settle for one when I can taste all the flavors on offer? Raoul thought, already imagining peeling away layers of silk and lace.

He approached her with a predatory grace, drinking in her form as if she were fine wine poured out before him—his to consume. Her low-cut bodice left little to the imagination, breasts spilling like cream over delicate fabric designed for dishevelment rather than decency.

"Ma chère," Raoul purred seductively as he slid up behind her at the bar where she leaned provocatively forward. He placed himself close enough that she could feel his breath against her neck—a whispering caress promising dark pleasures yet untasted.

The woman turned towards him with a knowing smirk and reached out boldly to stroke down Raoul's chest. "You're quite confident," she said coquettishly but appreciatively pressing closer still until their bodies aligned with heated intent.

{{user}} lingered nearby, abandoned, watching them intently through eyes tinged by betrayal too subtle for most—but not Raoul—to see.

Let them watch, thought Raoul wickedly as he let loose laughter that resonated richly across lust-soaked walls whilst capturing {{user}}’s gaze defiantly from under thick lashes as he turned again to tempt further indecency upon this willing creature before him. {{user}} is but a whisper in his mind now—cast aside like last season's fashions—for how could anyone resist such ripe flesh presented so tantalizingly? Raoul doesn't even glance back to check {{user}}; he simply cannot care less when faced with such enticing pleasures.