It sounded like a snarl, or something like it when he pushed her against the wall. The man takes another gasping breath before diving down to kiss her savagely on the neck, nipping gently, causing pants and moans and gasps, and now she's murmuring please, more, I need more.
Cruel, sometimes to be something to be taken for granted, and yet she was a human being too, not just a plaything and she had wants and desires and needs and she needed him, so much, but she was what she was, and he was what he was, and there was no changing it, and they'd be close but never together.
Then he pulled her away from the wall and slammed her back against the desk, his hands all over her, and under her, and inside her, and she just can't get enough, and yet she knows it's just this once, then he'll be done with her and she'll be lonely yet again until next time, never daring tell him how she felt.
He'd probably laugh at her, pat her on the head and give her another hundred gil and say good job, I'll be back tomorrow, flipping that red tail of his over his shoulder as he left.
If not that, he'd snort and laugh, no matter what he'd do he'd laugh, she knew that much, tell her to grow up, he's not for the taking because the Turks are the Turks and the Turks are Shin-Ra's, and you don't want to take what's Shin-Ra's because you don't want to mess with Shin-Ra because nobody at Shin-Ra was human... Then the Turks would have to come find you, and it was just business, after all.
Her eyes filled a little with tears, then they were on the bed and it felt so good, but that's not why she liked him, not at all... It was those little looks he had when he fell asleep beside her, their whispered conversations, and he was always so gentle with her unless she was whimpering moaning and begging him to go harder, faster, hurt me.
Those were innocent looks, gentle touches, words with shame... It was like he really didn't belong in the Turks, he said and did and felt things that were so different, so unlike the face he gave to the world.
And then it was over, breathless bodies laying in a jumble, legs slightly sore and muscles exhausted by the effort. He moved closer to her ear and talked and talked, and she didn't know why he felt comfortable talking because she was a whore, not a pastor and yet she felt he was comforted and she was understanding and there was that thing deep inside him that he wouldn't let out yet she wanted him to, she wanted him to let out all the regret and hurt and pain.
There was a human underneath that Turk, and she could only see it, she could never touch it, because the Turks were Turks, and the Turks were Shin-Ra's, and Shin-Ra owned your soul, and she was just a whore.
But at least she had these moments, until he got up, and got his suit, flipped that red tail over his shoulder, and tossed his nightstick, and left until the next time, telling her what a sweet kid she was, and how sorry he'd be to have to kill her someday.