"Come on priest-boy, even the monsters know you bathe in cash, and we're both alone in this hell-town so why not have some fun together?" the blonde woman said, loosening her grip on the pole and motioning for the priest to stop leaning on the wall and sit near the stage. He rolled his eyes and sauntered over; eyebrow raised, smirking.

"They look like-" He began to retort, but was cut off by an annoyed snap of the woman's fingers.

"Cut the bullshit you and I both know you were trying to get that girl stressed out enough to go into labor. Besides, I saw that retarded soldier take down like, three of your guys anyway. Let's just accept the fact they'll find us and kill us and we'll never know why." Maria said, condescendingly patting Vincent's head. She was taller than he was, and the stage added some extra height, letting her squat down, adding a little more humiliation into her actions.

"… Doesn't mean we can't have fun though, right?" She smirked and swung her legs down, vinyl skirt barely covering the tops of her thighs. Vincent slid his hand over her knee, slowly moving his hand upward and into her skirt. She smiled and let her nails dig into his scalp, keeping him down so he couldn't see the light flush that was showing through her makeup.

"This goes against everything I've been taught-" He tried to rationalize, mostly with himself, but only so Maria could hear, She smirked an leaned back, opening her legs further, urging him on.

"Oh babe you're just as wicked as I am. I just don't hide it behind those librarian glasses and a malevolent god."

Everything about her was fake, but at least she showed it, Maria told herself. She was better than him. She existed to please a man whose fantasy led him elsewhere. He, on the other hand, sold salvation while knowing the truth that they were damned from the start. His ideals were façades that masked the gluttony and lust the older man indulged in, only to wake up next to a paid off woman and preach through a hangover about the evils of dinking and lust. Even now as fingers slipped easily inside of her he was muttering about how his slip was morally acceptable, exalted even. Trying to ignore how much like her he was while she moaned beneath him.

And she admired that.

No,

She loved it.