Vera stares down at the food on her plate—an assortment of small portions of various mute colors—trying to imagine the ingredients to every dish in order to ignore the heat burning in her thighs.

She couldn't do this… not now… Not with the fucking Legate's voice vibrating in her ears, not with Caesar a seat away from her, glancing towards her at every mention of the NCR, not with Lucius' eyes raking along her face, studying her reactions to the pleasure Vulpes was working into her.

Hadn't Vulpes ordered her obedience? Good behavior didn't tie too tremendously into a fingering beneath the table. What were they, teenagers?

Vera's next breath shook as she eyed one of the Praetorian guards behind Caesar, his eyes wandering about the room in complete lack of knowledge of her burning stare. Her gaze followed the warmly colored skin stretched taut over his masculine features, strong arms flexing as he cracked his knuckles absently, tongue snaking out to wet dry lips... Almost too easily Vera could see herself on top of that man, holding his face down in the dirt as she rode out the tension in her gut.

She looked then to Lanius, and though she couldn't see his face, the mere mass of his figure and the blunt power to his voice made the next pass of Vulpes' fingers all too potent, a shaken breath escaping audibly from her throat—surely not missed by the always watchful Lucius, whose ears practically perked like a dog at the sound.

Vulpes had noticed as well, taking his eyes from the private conversation occurring between Alerio and Cato, their words concerning the upcoming visit of President Kimball temporarily catching his attention. Until, of course, he noticed his Courier's current demeanor.

She was staring with familiar intensity at the Legatus, the darkness of her eyes studying the man's famed brawn with all but drool rendering forth, not to mention the hips that grinded insistently forward against his fingers. Vulpes… didn't quite know what to think of this. He supposed the Courier held some sort of misguided attraction towards the men of the Legion.

Perhaps this was derived from his lessons or even a life-long fetish, he wasn't sure, though given that she was playing with fire in focusing whatever fantasies she possessed on Lanius, he couldn't help but let a flare of irritation flood his chest.

So he let a small smirk play over his features as he leaned to the Courier's ear, lips close enough to send a shiver through her body. "Luxuria, my dear one, do you have any idea what that is?"

She takes her eyes from the Legate with her cheek brushing his as he discreetly snakes his tongue along the curve behind her ear. Such actions go unnoticed by most, and those witnessing the act apparently don't think enough of it to speak up. Though the occasional snicker isn't completely uncommon.

"No." She is unable to say anything else lest she give herself away, he assumes, for he can feel the growing heat against his rolling fingers. He wonders absently what she may be fantasizing… or perhaps she doesn't need to daydream, after all, she has shown to be quite the exhibitionist.

Vulpes takes a moment to maneuver his fingers, sinking a long middle finger slowly into her body and encasing himself in soft, wet heat. She jerks from surprise at this and he can feel the muscles tightening around his finger, making a spark of his own arousal warm his groin slowly.

"It may be your undoing one day, how interesting—that you don't seem to realize it." Vulpes hushes, the hot breath of his words inciting another delicious tightening. "Lust, Courier, it devours you."

He watches her face as he pulls away casually, a slow smile etching into his lips upon the swallow that works the Courier's throat, her eyes sliding shut as she becomes encased in the smells and presences around her.

Skyrim devours me— Oh, um, ahem.

No but really.