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[Even the sight of her face is enough to allow him to drop his guard, which he does so easily as he steps inside. His shoulders relax noticeably and he lets out a surprised chuckle as she presses up against him. No time is wasted as he wraps his arms around her.]

I'm grateful to share in such a feeling.

[He presses his forehead against hers in an affectionate gesture and presses a soft kiss against her lips.]

( Just now, she experiences a sort of peace and contentment that she has not felt in years. She closes her eyes, a small but honest smile curving her mouth as she winds her arms around him. With him here, she feels less exposed, less undefended—less alone. And in feeling him relax, the sense is practically infectious as any remaining tension eases clean out of her, and she is left huddled close, comfortable there against him. )

The honour is mine, then.

( There is definitely an undercurrent of affection here which she has not allowed herself to see or indulge in previously. She finds that she enjoys it. Still smiling, she meets him halfway to return his kiss gently, unhurriedly. When finally she parts her mouth from his, she's still smiling. )

Questo è qualcosa che ho potuto abituarmi.

( This time, she employs his mother tongue rather than her own, so that he will understand a little just how she is beginning to feel with him.

And she's right: this is completely something she can get used to. With great ease. )

[He has to resist. Resist turning this into a night similar to the one they shared when they crossed paths again after quite some time. It's difficult around her and especially when she employs his native tongue so casually and expertly.

Allowing himself to temporary engage that urge, he presses another kiss against her lips, decidedly more passionate than the chaste one before. After several moments, he pulls away and licks his lips.]

...I couldn't resist. I'm sorry since we came here to talk about other things.

[There would be time later to talk foreplay and otherwise to each other. He took her hand to lace his fingers between hers and moved towards the bed so they could sit or lay down and speak.]

( In that struggle, he is most certainly not alone. Lately, to be near him means that every nerve in her body is acutely aware of his proximity. Her heart thuds excitedly against her rib cage, and it seems so incredible that she is tempted to laugh, after the nightmares she has had. The effect he has upon her extends far beyond sex, and she has not thought of it overmuch, lest it frighten her. Which is fortunate, then, that her thoughts are summarily distracted from wondering too much regarding that fact.

She leans in to return his kiss, unable to help herself from sighing deeply before they part. Taking a moment to catch her lost breath, Elizabeth can only respond by turning her head and placing another, far more chaste kiss upon his cheek. )

After we have talked, perhaps. If we are not exhausted in the doing so.

( That she allows that much says much, though she gives no further voice to it. Her fingers are already curling against his, twined together as closely as they can become. She does not hesitate to lay down first, and shift over just enough for him to lay next to her. And for a long time, she remains quiet just like that, content to look at him, to let the fact that he is here and has never once disappeared since their first meeting sink in.

Then, she begins quietly: )

I was born in the midst of a civil war, the eldest of ten. My first memory is of my father, calling me beautiful—I suppose I was a very little girl, then, or an infant. His rule was interrupted more than once, with one of those times being so bad as that my mother took us and claimed Sanctuary within Westminster Abbey. I was four, and I recall wondering if I would grow up in darkness.

My father eventually prevailed and came to rescue us, but I still have nightmares of that place. He ruled for a little over another dozen years, and then he died. The world went upside-down thereafter, with my younger brother's murder, and our having to claim Sanctuary again. I know not what, if anything you might have heard regarding that, but—well. It seemed as though everyone I cared for was dying around me.

That sense but became more pronounced as I was taken to two other worlds before this one. I tire of being the one to stand alone, the sole survivor.

I know not how to stop it. ( Taking a breath, she lifts one of his hands so that she might press s soft kiss to its palm. )

What of you? You need not bear any of your demons alone, if I have leave to share mine.

Edited 2016-02-06 03:43 (UTC)

[He doesn't comment further on the suggestion either. What happens will happen and should they simply rest or enjoy the rest of the evening is up to circumstance. Either result is welcome to him. As for her story, he listens attentively, offering a few changes in his expression as she touches on certain details, both terrible and relieving.]

One day we'll find a way. Me and several others are working towards it every day.

[He's hesitant. Already he's hurt one for neglecting to be honest about his activities and this is the sort of relationship he doesn't want to damage.]

I was born in Firenze. My father was a banker, as I knew for a long time. My family consisted of my mother, Maria. My father, Giovanni. My brothers, Petruccio and Frederico. And finally my sister, Claudia. For a long time, I assumed I would grow up to help run my father's bank.

[A small sigh as such things were so long ago.]

My elder brother taught me how to climb buildings and fight. At the time, I thought nothing of it until one particular day when my father sent me on a few tasks... When I returned, guards had ransacked our home and seized my brothers and father. They had been framed for a crime they didn't commit and I learned from my father why.

My father and brother's true lives were of the Assassin Order. Men and woman that spent their lives protecting the freedom of the people from their constant rivals, the Templars. Men who sought power, control and wealth no matter the cost. They were the ones responsible for framing my family.

At first, all I thought about was the safety of my Sister and Mother. They were all I had left. I brought them to my uncle's estate in Tuscany where he promised to keep them safe, but also wished to teach me the ways that my father and brother would have passed on.

[He shakes his head, frowning.]

I was so foolish at the time, not realizing how my suffering and the suffering of my family was only a part of the pain these people had caused, but it was personal, and I held onto my hatred for a long time. Even as I had grown to accept their ways. "Do not stain your blade with the blood of the innocent", "Hide in plain sight", and "Do not compromise the brotherhood."

So much bloodshed, all for the sake of power. I only recently and very nearly put things to an end in Roma. The Borgia family is in ruins and yet... My work is not yet done.

( She listens in turn, drawing shapes idly, gently across the surface of his palm meanwhile. It passes the time, and becomes a source of comfort for them both. Given the horror he has endured, she thinks he could use a little. When he is through speaking and has gone quiet, she rests her forehead against his own, releasing a long, deep breath before looking into his eyes.

Is it simply that their century is one of exceptional violence, or is it a monumental coincidence that they have both been through such similar experiences? She has no idea. )

The pain lingers yet, does it not? ( There is much empathy in her eyes, now, as she turns his hand about and brushes another kiss across his knuckles. ) Words will never bring them back, but from the bottom of my heart, I am so very, very sorry. This is a brand of torment I would never wish upon another soul.

( Then, she has to swallow, and she cannot for the life of her blink back the tears which sting behind her eyes. Elizabeth can barely think, for being so angry for both their sakes, and those of their families. She has to draw nearer to him, to breathe deeply and screw her eyes tightly closed before she can regain even a shred of her composure. )

It is ever thus, it seems, and I had no idea that such was not contained to Royal families and knights who ventured out on Crusade. Not until I met a man named Connor.

He is, I believe, a member of this order you are part of, as well. ( He'd been out there, trying to clean up the mess her people had made in the Americas. When push comes to shove, Elizabeth very much agrees with the philosophy of never harming an innocent. Of living in peace with others. She is very much like her father, in that regard.

Opening her eyes, she somehow manages a faint ghost of a smile. )

I had not thought that I could feel safer with you. Yet, I do. And as for the Borgia— ( She sighs, cringing visibly. ) I have met a pair of them. Lucrezia and a rather addlepated brother—he fancied himself Julius Caesar reincarnate—the sister was kind to me.

Her brother, however, would have likely been better off had he not been born at all. He is quite mad. If your work involves bringing that loose cannon to heel, I would aid you.

Not a day goes by that I do not think about how I could have saved them from their fates. But they are at peace now, I believe that much.

[He's very appreciative for the gesture regardless, and shows it by pressing a kiss against her forehead. It's been so long since he lost his first love, that it almost pained him to show such affection for another. That she would have wanted him to carry on like this gives him a bit of peace in her memory.]

...I've not heard the name before. Though I've met someone who knew someone else as you do.

[His smile fades at the mention of the Borgias and it turns into one of pity shortly afterwards.]

I suspect, from the way they treated her that Lucrezia was a victim of her upbringing... She is alive. Her brother was in prison last I recall. I still wish to put his presence to rest before he can do more damage, though.

[It felt good, to get that in the open. He holds her close.]

Thank you for listening to me.

I agree with you. They are at the side of God, now, where none might harm them. Perhaps they have met my father and siblings there.

( Restless, she shifts in his arms, tucking her head under his chin so that he cannot see the pain in her eyes. His own is enough to bear. )

Sadly, my family did not have need of a foul group or cult in order to see itself destroyed. They call us the Devil's Brood in France. Perhaps they are right.

( She has felt this way with a small handful of people, most of whom she will never see again; and another who is leagues apart from her in the emotional department. Elizabeth had also been prepared to give up, to close her heart and never care for another person again.

But that hardly seems like what her father would do, and his is the example she wishes to follow in most things. This feels—pleasant. Peaceful. Simple things which she has been lacking of late. Turning her head into his kiss, she allows the tension to ease from her shoulders, and sighs deeply in an effort to relax. )

I am not surprise, as he comes from the future. Three hundred years away from you and I, as I recall.

( Mention of Lucrezia sees her glance up at him again, frowning. )

When I knew her, she had won herself autonomy and status—and she was aiding the sick. Her brother's presence is poison. I offer no objection to removing it from the earth.

( Now, she can finally smile, if faintly. )

You might always count upon me to do so. And I must thank you, as well. It is not an easy thing to admit that I am afraid. I do not wish to lose anyone else.

I know not if I could stand it.

Our time has been brief, but I very much doubt that, Elizabeth.

[His words won't stop a lifetime of doubt, but he'll gladly offer them freely and with as much sincerity as he is capable of. Her words make him thankful that he even considered opening up to her, and lacking in any regrets. His smile is genuine, even when his words take a slightly fouler turn.]

...I can't make the promise that such a thing might not happen. I lead a very dangerous life and this is a dangerous place for both of us.

[He tucks a hand under her chin to get a good look at her face.]

What I can promise is that we'll make good of the time we do have, should something bad happen. I anything should, I'd rather leave better memories over none.

[He presses a kiss against her lips.]

You are exceedingly kind to say such a thing. I thank you.

( They won't; especially given the things she has done. She is only beginning to know him, and will not be mentioning those anytime soon—but, considering his main occupation is taking life for the greater good, there is a definite weight to his words which she may heed as time passes. He knows what he is talking about.

What she has revealed to him so far is more than most who have not read a history book would know of her, and she, too harbours no regrets. Her cheek ends up pressed to his as she shifts against to be closer to him, so that she can freely look into his eyes without craning her neck constantly. )

I know that neither of us can promise that. But I think in retrospect that hiding myself away in fear of that eventuality did no one any good.

( She breathes deeply, allowing him to direct her gaze more on the level with his. Her hand reaches for his own. Once she has a hold of it, she squeezes gently. )

That is a promise I would like to make as well, and keep. Your words make much sense, and I will heed them. I want more happy memories, and not to simply look back at the past wistfully. I think both of us are too young for that.

( It goes without saying that she would defend this friend of hers with any force necessary. She does not mention it, for fear of further souring the mood. )

Nearly twenty-five is still young, is it not? ( She teases, just before she opts to return his kiss slowly, and then to caress his lips with her tongue, an invitation to deepen it if he would like. )

It's certainly younger than I...

[He gladly accepts that invitation, pushing his tongue past her lips to brush against her tongue. A deep kiss that he breaks briefly so he can speak.]

Young and beautiful, I might add, Elizabeth.

[A faint smile until he leans close to crush another passionate kiss against her lips. His head tilts slightly to allow for a better angle for both of them as his tongue rubs against hers.]

Edited 2016-02-06 18:37 (UTC)

How much so?

( Now that they've mentioned it, she is curious. She finds herself laughing a little into their kiss, sighing contentedly once they part. )

You flatter me, but I thank you. My natal day is in a little less than a fortnight. Your presence unto itself would be a gift.

( Her eyes search his, and she returns his small smile before she is once again swept away by his kiss. Again, she sighs, cradling the back of his head and the nape of his neck in her hands so as to gently push him closer, her tongue dancing playfully with his own. )

[His eyebrows raise upwards, both at learning about her birthday and learning that she merely wanted his presence. Well, he could think of a few ways to make such a day better with his presence.]

You're younger than me by about 10 years, then.

[Not so unusual in the time he is from, but he is grateful that the don't differ so much in their age. In a sudden shift, Ezio slides an arm around her waist and twists against the bed so that she's laying atop of him.]

( Ten years is all which had separated her from another man once, long ago. A far different sort of person, whose name she will not even bring to mind now, because he does not merit a single thought from her. The one she is with is a much better sort, and far better company, besides.

She smiles at him, a twinkle of amusement in her gaze. )

Then you are not quite an old man. Good fortune has befallen me, surely!

( Her husband is three years younger than she, for which she has ever felt a bit self-conscious. This is much better, to be able to laugh and tease her partner gently. And when she is rolled atop him, she adjusts at once to straddle him, so that she grips his hips between her thighs like a vise.

Something heated, and much more intense than amusement sparks in her eyes, and her breath hitches sharply. For an assassin, he is certainly exceedingly talented at making her feel alive. Leaning down, she nips gently, and then not so gently along the column of his throat, a shiver racing down along her spine as she rocks her hips once, twice. She will be a great tease before she gives him what he is seeking from her. )

Edited 2016-02-07 00:07 (UTC)

[For a brief moment, the remark has him looking a bit hurt until he realizes that she's speaking purely in jest. He manages an amused look as she settles atop of him, though he's a little curious with how she locks her thighs against him. It's only when she nips at his throat, eliciting a sharp inhale from him followed by a sigh as she begins to roll her hips against his own.

The intent becomes very clear now. Ezio brings his hands along her thighs, not planning on forcing them away. Rather, he is slowly caressing them.]

Not going to let me take my pants off?

Edited 2016-02-07 04:11 (UTC)

( When the hurt look crosses his face, her own features soften immeasurably, and she leans forward to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. It is definitely out of sync with everything else she is doing in this moment, but it matters not to her. One of her hands shifts to caress his cheek, and she smiles at him. That seems to do the trick, because his expression eases soon afterward. She would explain, but if there is no need, then it is a relief. It means he is coming to know her better.

And as for her intent, well: it is simply that she has an insatiable appetite. With the matter of the jest squared away, she bends her head anew to lay more kisses along his neck, nipping now and again, and soothed swiftly thereafter with feather-light swipes of her tongue. She sighs deeply against his skin, laughing a little while she continues to rock her hips. )

All in good time. Are we in any rush?

( Because there is no urgency to her movements, more of a leisurely, sensual slowness. Her tongue laps at his skin, and she exhales deeply against his skin, letting him feel a little of what he'd done to her not long ago.

Hopefully, he's set to enjoy himself. )

No, I suppose not...

[His body might disagree with that though if she keeps up what she's doing. He sighs and groans quietly at the nips and kisses she lavishes against his neck. Biting his lip, his expression is a somewhat challenging one as he begins to move his hips to match hers, arching them upwards against hers just as she rolls her hips against his.

She can probably feel the growing tension in his pants brought on by her efforts.]

( She pauses, mouth hovering over his damp skin, and releases a little mischievous laugh as she meets his eyes. )

È buono.

( Her efforts continue to be languid, unhurried and she knows that he wants more. Laughing once again, she at last brings her hands into the fray, one gripping firmly at his hip to brace them together as they as, while the other wanders across his belly, her touch light, and maddeningly gentle. She keeps at this, her lips and teeth and tongue assaulting his skin until she, herself is flushed, and her heart beginning to race.

The hand at his abdomen dips, curving around his back to dip inside the back of his pants to squeeze and caress his backside.

It's plainly obvious that the greater the pleasure she brings her partner, the greater amount she brings to herself, as well. )

[It occurs to him that he might have made his own bed by allowing her above him in such a way. He doesn't mind a single bit, but as she continues to tease him slowly with 'what could be', he begins to slowly lose bits of his composure. He lets out a groan, pleased by the sensations she's managing to bring several parts of his body.

It's only fair he returns the favour, hiking her shift up slightly so he can bring both his hands around to her backside and squeeze it with both hands.]

( Indeed he has, and the fact that he is as eager as she is but increases her ardour. Heat burns in her eyes as she continues to rock her hips against his, the fingers upon his backside flexing again until her nails dig gently into his skin. Let him come undone; that is what she wants to accomplish, to witness and feel. Making him lose control is far too fun, whether she retains hers or nay.

In fact, she is hoping that he causes her to lose hers, as well. Let them be lost together. She releases a soft, pleasured sound, craning her neck so that she can nip along his bottom lip and then kiss him deeply.

The fact that the rate of her breath has picked up is no bother as she takes in air through her nose instead, the better to make this last as long as possible. )

[By now his erection is straining against the fabric of his pants to the point of near pain, if not for the constant friction afforded by her movements. He groans louder, and squeezes her ass again while his other hand grabs the shift covering her and begins to lift it upwards in an effort to pull it off of her. His pants may be impossible to remove, but the same does not apply to her clothes.]

Non ero a conoscenza ti è piaciuto prendere in giro, Elizabeth...

[He chides in his mother tongue, grinning up at her before he lets out another moan and then grinds his hips upwards against her.]

( There is an ease to this—because she cares for him, because she is beginning to place her trust in him—and because for a refreshing change, there is no ill magic in the air courtesy of one of the witches. So when afforded an opportunity to be herself and indulge in a bit of mischief: she will. She rocks her hips into his insistently, moaning softly as the dampness grows between her thighs. And still—she's laughing, her eyes sparkling with the playfulness she's not expected to feel.

It is entirely his doing. )

You have no idea. ( She grins, leaning forward to brush her nose against his in an affectionate gesture. ) By the time we are done, you may well think me an imp.

( But she arches up, shifting so that he can tug the shift higher, a deep sigh escaping her at the firm squeeze against her rear. Elizabeth gives him a look, once the fabric is gone and forgotten where it has landed, and reaches her free hand between them to play along the fastenings of his breeches, light, still teasing. She knows what he wants, but will happily make him deal with this sweet torment a little longer, in essence. )

I-Hnn... I'm going to get you back at some point, I promise th-that.

[Not tonight, or tomorrow, but at some point in the future he will make her pay for every second of this. Of course, nothing malicious to be sure, she will definitely enjoy it as much as he's enjoying this. When the shift comes free, he doesn't see an opportunity for true revenge, but to get a bit of satisfaction.

The continued motions of her hips continue to make his breathing heavier and his noises a little louder as it grows closer to the point of becoming unbearable. His hands slide up her stomach, coming to her breasts that he squeezes, rubbing his fingers and palm over the soft skin.]

She may act the imp, but does the voice match?

[Immediately after his words, he gives both of her nipples gentle pinches, tugging on them carefully to try and elicit a few more sounds from her.]

If you want to f-feel really good, I promise you it will feel a lot better without the clothes, Elizabeth...

[She can even continue the grinding she seems to enjoy doing, but for the sake of mercy, please remove his pants!]

Edited 2016-02-10 07:28 (UTC)

Is that a threat or a promise? ( The way she poses the question is telling: though breathy and husky with want, her voice holds much amusement, as well. Surging forward, she gives a healthy nip to his lower lip and squeezes her hips down firmly against his. Then she cants her head to whisper in his ear: ) Please do let it be both. Then I shall doubly look forward to that time, whenever it should come.

( Implying, naturally, that it won't occur for a while. Elizabeth is still new to many things, as he, himself is now keenly aware, but teasing is not one of them. In that, both of them have met their match, it seems. Her nostrils flare as she inhales sharply, and a strong shudder rolls down along the length of her spine.

Those hands are skilled, all right. And he has found somewhere she is particularly sensitive. Not the most surprising of places, perhaps, but all the same; the rocking of her hips becomes more urgent, nearly erratic. And in that moment, she grins down at him, her expression alight. )

I believe you are thinking of a nymph, or a siren. Not an imp, then. Fortunately for me.

( She does make a soft, keening sort of whimper, and finally, at last; she tugs at the fastenings of his breeches to relive the pressure they have placed upon him. Her breath is hot against the shell of his ear as she shifts her free hand to help its mate push his pants down to his knees. )

Indeed? Should I test this theory? ( She does not wait to hear his reply, as she is already arching her hips downward to press against him again, smearing his skin with the dampness of her. In this moment, she cannot care less. )

Edited (typo) 2016-02-11 01:43 (UTC)

Mm... They don't do you justice, Elizabeth.

[And he means that, giving her earlobe a gentle nip as if to punctuate his point before soothing his tongue along the spot to soften the pain. While she works on his clothes, he shows her no mercy now knowing that her breasts are particularly sensitive. His hands incessantly massage the skin with his palms while his fingers continue to roll her nipples. At one point he quickly licks his fingertips so the sensation is a bit different since he's in no position to use his mouth on them.

There's a sound of relief as his cock is freed from it's confinement and he seems to sprawl across the bed under her at the sensation. At her question, he lets out a faint laugh.]

Allow me...

[Shifting his hands down to her waist, he pulls her down and forward to roll her hips along his, pulling her dampness along his length.]

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