He hated when you could read him. Play him just right so things came in your favour. That was his job. He was the one who was in control. You were just a disguting morta who he screwed every so often. So after one to many boring reactions of knives to the throat, of choking the life from you. He decided on something better. And whether or not it had bullets in the chamber, it didnt matter. Because the fear in your eyes. The shake of your breath from your lips did nothing short of turn him on.