Immortal Love (Closed for Veroe)

IC: Alian De'Montreau: Venice September 11, 1887

"I love you."

"And I love you," She said as they circled in the chaste proper boxstep of the waltz. Their eyes met and Alain found himself lost as they waltzed within the endless shifting facets of her irises and the dark depths of her pupils. It was very good to be lost within her.

Soon the dance ended and true to form Alain wanted his wife in more private locations so he may make love to her in the passionate fashion Selena so very much deserved.

But first he needed to conclude his business with Signore Garibaldi. Taking Selena by the hand he led her over to where he and his wife stood by the door.

"Signore," He said approaching them, "Now to continue our business. I understand your warehouses will be empty until your ships return from the orient next month. My wares need a place to house them for the next few weeks when I can ship them overland to Vienna. It seems we can help eachother, indeed mon frer, we can both profit from helping eachother here."

"Signore De'Montreau, I have tried to be tolerant with you," Garibaldi shook his head, "But we will not do business together. I can not be seen doing business with a man who consorts in respectable company with..." His eyes shifted to Selena, "...with a foreign courtesan."

Signora Garibaldi nodded with an approving, "Hmmmph," at that.

"Now-agh!" Signore Garibaldi didn't finish his sentence as Alain's fist slammed into his nose propelling the man back into the far wall.

"You bastard," Alain stared down at the man, "You impune the honor of my wife again and I will use more than my fist to give you the beating you so richly deserve."

Garibaldi looked up at him in a mixture of fear and rage, "Get out of..."

"Oh we are certainly leaving," Alain took Selena's hand and stormed off in a dark and terrible fury leaving the Garibaldi's manor and climbing into a gondola to go down the canal to the house he had rented for their stay in Venice...if he never saw this over-glorified swamp again it'd be too soon.

He glance over to Selena and wrapped his arm around her. "I am sorry you had to suffer that, my love."

And yet his wife had been kind... attempting to make me like them but still...

She sighed snuggling into his arms. Looking into his eyes she did not care what these people said... she had happiness and safety with Alain and thats all that mattered to her. Nothing else touched her mind no matter if it should or not.

Well then more time for me to get you back for this horrid thing they call dancing.

She glanced out over this city and could not understand these people at all. Closing her eyes she simply listened to him breath till they arrived "home". Accepting the gondolier's help onto the walkway she smiled... at least some of them were still kind and helpful. Once he floated away from them she laughed a little.

I pity Signore Garibaldi... I was going to teach his wife a little of what you will get to see tonight... I... I miss dancing as I did long ago... she did even help me get what I needed to attempt to make clothing from my homeland.

Winking at him she waited for him to open the door as a devious smile curled her lips. Once they were inside she turned to look deep into his eyes.

Alain... do you trust me?

Once he answered her she smiled and kissed him softly.

To do this... to show you... I know what your reaction will be... it is in many ways the same with Foreigners so I would love to complete the dance... to be able to do that I think you might need to be restrained.

She laughed a little thinking about that winking at him.

Part of the dance calls for a sword and I do not have one as you know... so I could use yours... right?

She bit her lip at that part of the request... she suspected that he would not have a problem with anything she asked him and she held no desire at all to harm one of the only good things in her life ever but still it was a difficult request to ask of another of their kind.

IC: Alain De'Montreau- Venice Sept. 11, 1887

He glance over to Selena and wrapped his arm around her. "I am sorry you had to suffer that, my love."

"And yet his wife had been kind... attempting to make me like them but still..." She said snuggling close to him and Alain wrapped an arm tight around her. She looked up into his eyes and his reflected with the love and care he had always held for her in his heart.

"Well then," She said with a mischeivious glimmer in her eyes, "More time for me to get you back for this horrid thing they call dancing."

He chuckled, "I'll admit its not as entertaining as what you consider dancing."

They snuggled close together as the gondola carried them from the richer portion of Venice to the crowded dirtier more common quarters of the city. Neither of them spoke. Alain held her close to him, determined not to let an uncaring world get between them. He had spent centuries alone before meeting Selena just a handful of years ago and he planned on several centuries with her as his cherished wife to make up for that solitude.

Finally they reached the tiny house he rented for them. As was customary the gondolier helped Selena out onto the entrance of our cottage. "At least some of them were still kind and helpful."

Alain paid the man a generous gratuity and he was once again on his way.

"I pity Signore Garibaldi... I was going to teach his wife a little of what you will get to see tonight," She said as the couple approached the door to their house, "I was going to teach his wife a little of what you will get to see tonight."

That raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"I... I miss dancing as I did long ago... she did even help me get what I needed to attempt to make clothing from my homeland."

"Oh?" The raised eyebrow rose higher at the mention of what she'd wear while dancing a dance from her homeland.

She gave him a wink loaded with a scooner's worth of black powder as he opened the door for them, "Alain... do you trust me?"

"Unconditionally, Mon Petit Bon Danseur," He stated passionately.

She gave him a soft kiss that ended all too soon and left Alain reaching for more of her but she pulled away stating, "To do this... to show you... I know what your reaction will be..." She laughed musically winking at him, "It is in many ways the same with Foreigners so I would love to complete the dance... to be able to do that I think you might need to be restrained."

"Restrained," Alain repeated. There was more to the matter than just the loss of his personal freedom for a few hours. If he submitted to it, Selena could easily take his head, his quickening, and Alain would be absolutely defenseless against such a betrayal.

But would it be a betrayal? It came down to the question she asked him just a moment before; Did he trust her?

He became serious for a moment before looking up to her eyes. He nodded, "Yes, I trust you, Selena."

"Part of the dance calls for a sword and I do not have one as you know... so I could use yours... right?"

"My sword," He asked swallowing. It woke a certain uneasiness in him thinking of why she could possibly want his sword, however there was also the fact that the image of her dancing with his weapon, his life in her hands...it was very arousing.

He took hold of her shoulders and pulled her in for the kind of kiss that she had pulled away from. He kissed her for several minutes hands reaching up and sliding through her silken hair to cup the back of her head guiding her as tongues dueled. He nibbled on her bottom lip before pulling back and saying, "Yes, I trust you, Selena. I love you, as a wife and as a soulmate, as my Immortal lover. Just tell me where to sit."

She smiled and glancing around the room trying to find a perfect place for him to sit that she could keep some distance and not have to restrain him too much just enough to get the point across that he had to sit still. Seeing the settee she pointed over to it... he could sit or stretch out his legs and a open woodwork design would allow a loose restraint around his waist to hold him in place.

She smiled watching him sit down and reaching for one of the infernal "proper shawl" and used it to restrain his waist to the settee. Showing that it was just a wee bit of restraint to calm him she smiled.

The sword... please love...

She smiled to him and with the sword slipping into the other room discarding the constricting clothing of this land and smiled as she felt the soft silken and sheer fabrics with the elaborate coin and silvery decoration. the veil for now wrapped around her waist as another layer to the skirt. She then pinned up her hair loosely leaving ringlets to dance around her face and billow around her. Makeup as she would have worn in her homeland which seemed to enhance her features more beautifully then these European
ideas of makeup and beauty.


She then walked back into the other room and looking to him with no smile but no real emotion at all just a soft sensuality to her face as her eyes sparkled in the candle light. Her form slowly began to sway as she began to dance.

In her mind she could hear the music of old that guided her steps and her undulations and sways. Flowing through the sword dance she paused only briefly watching him with a faint smile before she set the sword aside and moved into another. With a spin the veil around her waist was now draped around her shoulders and arms almost as if a "jacket" loosely draping around her. Slowly she began to dance once more with a soft smile on her lips. Her eyes always maintained contact with his unless her movements did not allow it all in the flow of the dance. Once the dance was complete she stood there watching him with a soft smile... awaiting words or the rending of the hated shawl... she really hoped that her opening up and sharing a little of her past like this... something that always made her so happy and hopeful would be well received by him.

IC: Alain De'Montrea, Venice Italy: September 11, 1887

He took hold of her shoulders and pulled her in for the kind of kiss that she had pulled away from. He kissed her for several minutes hands reaching up and sliding through her silken hair to cup the back of her head guiding her as tongues dueled. He nibbled on her bottom lip before pulling back and saying, "Yes, I trust you, Selena. I love you, as a wife and as a soulmate, as my Immortal lover. Just tell me where to sit."

She pointed to their settee, and Alain lounged back on it for her. Then reaching for one of the 'proper' shawls women of 'proper breeding' wore over their dresses to preserve their 'modesty'. Alain had practically twisted Selena's arm to get her to wear the ridiculous things here. Now he could sense a bit of revenge on her part in using them to bind his waist to the sette.

"I love you, Mon Amor."

Then she left him to sweat it out tied to the chair. He could easily get out of the bindings, but he did not. Alain had given her his word, and he fully intended to never break that word to her.

Soon she came back dressed in very skimpy and arousing clothing, clothing of her homeland indeed. Alain stared eyes wide looking at Selena, the love of his long life step towards him. His little soldier was making an uncomfortable tent in his trousers as it rose to salute its commanding officer. The way Selena looked at him he was sure she was returning the salute.

"The sword... please love..."

He looked over to his sword. Sifu had given him this, and it had saved his life more times than he could count. He reached for it and lifted it up for her swallowing. He felt naked, vulnerable, without it close to hand.

She took it and stepped back swaying to music only she heard-not that that took any of the sensuality away from her performance-indeed it augmented it.

Alain watched as she danced using his sword, in japan people believed the sword contained the soul of a warrior, and that sword eventhough it was chineese in origin instead of from Japan, that sword was his soul still. What and how she treated it heated his blood.

By the end of the first dance he was aching to wrap her up in his arms and carry her over his shoulder, drag her off, to their bed and releive the fire in his heart watching her dance for him had started. By the end of the second it was a good thing she had tied him to the chair because he would've done just that.

He reached out to her and stated in a voice thick with lust, "Selena, Merci, come here. Kiss me, for the love of god, please."

A dark sensual smile graced her lips at the tone and desire in his voice and with more sensual dance like movements she circled him leaning in to kiss his cheek from behind him lingering out of reach.

What if I want to.dance more my love... hmmm... can you withstand more dancing Alain?

Her voice a soft purr near his ear as she twirled around standing in front of him again with the unique candelabra she had found in the market when they first arrived. The strange base now made sense as she dances around slowly lifting the lit candles up to her head and resting its coiled base around the top of her head as she began to dance again. The flames waving and dancing as she moved in undulations twirls and ripping almost walk circling around him. This dance a little shorter as she did not wish to torture him too much but knowing the fire dance would.keep him seated till she safely returned the candelabra to its perch on the table. With a pull of the shawl.she released him and with a smile she wiggled her finger for him to follow her as she backed her way to their bedroom.

IC: Alain De'Montreau: Venice Italy

He reached out to her and stated in a voice thick with lust, "Selena, Merci, come here. Kiss me, for the love of god, please."

"What if I want to.dance more my love?" A grin filled with dark mischeif crossed Selena's face at that. She continued to dance just out of his reach circling around behind him where she leaned in for a quick passionate kiss to his cheek. ]"... hmmm... can you withstand more dancing Alain?"

Alain reached for her when she did but because he couldn't turn being tied to the settee she slipped away to a safer distance. "Selena, that's enough games, I want to kiss you, hold you, bring you up to the edge...now...please..."

His plea faltered as she lifted the unique candelabra she had bought in the market and placed it atop her head, and continued to entice him, tease him, taunt him to a frothing volcano about to erupt at any moment.

He held his arms out for her and begged her, "Selena..."

This dance a little shorter as she did not wish to torture him too much but knowing the fire dance would.keep him seated till she safely returned the candelabra to its perch on the table. With a pull of the shawl.she released him and with a smile she wiggled her finger for him to follow her as she backed her way to their bedroom.

He was freed but would he follow her as she walked yo their room. Drawing the golden decor from her hair it found a quick home on a little table by the door as she did not want to lose or break them. Her every step as she led the way a near sensual continuation of the dance as she watched him.

IC: Alain De'Montreau; Venice Italy-Sept. 11, 1887

He held his arms out for her and begged her, "Selena..."

She continued the dance and Alain watched her writhe sinuously with the candelabra. He watched her caught up in the magic and sensuality of her dance.

Alain always loved it when she danced. Selena was his beautiful little dancer, his bon petit danseur. God in heaven did he love her like no woman in his long long life.

She put down the candelabra and with a beautiful smile freed him. Backing away she beckoned him to follow after her, and of course Alain did fingers undoing the buttons of shedding his coat and waistcoat along the way.

"Selena," He said, even her name carried magic for him.

Alain...

She answered till she was in their room and with another twirl the skirt slithered away from her to arms length before falling into a soft pool. Her eyes never left his as she watched him shed coat and waist coat closing the distance between them. She could not believe the happiness she had found nor the safety and security and tender passionate love. She could have never even begun to dream of something like this much less believe that she could have such happiness and love. But here she is living this wonderful dream.

IC: Alain De'Montreau: Venice Italy, Sept. 11, 1887

"Selena," He said, even her name carried magic for him.

"Alain..." She answered twirling into their bedroom. At the end of the motion her skirt landed in a pool on the floor. He peered deep into her eyes, never breaking away as he bent down to pull off his boots. It took a moment, half because he refused to beak eye contact with her and half because it was difficult to remove them standing up, but he triumphed in the end. He cast them negligently to one side. He couldn't wait any longer and just ripped open his shirt coming up to her and enclosing her within his arms.

He looked into her eyes as he pulled her close against him. Alain's lips traced over hers, an invitation, murmuring to her, "I love you, Mon Amor."

Curling into his arms she wrapped her arms around him as well he lips parting in the kiss as she whispered.

And I love you

Her body pressed close to his her eyes.still lost in his. Feeling his heartbeat and the loving strength of his embrace depressed closer as she whispered.

My true soul forever.

With that her eyes close even for a bit taking in every aspect of this moment into her memory and soul. She did not want to forget any sensation from.this as she pressed against him and pressing into another kiss. Her body slowly moving undulating and pressing against him the sheer sensuality of it all making.her forget everything but he.two of them.

IC: Alain De'Montreau: Venice Italy, Sept. 11, 1887

"I love you, Mon Amor."

"And I love you," His heart, his Selena, his wife stated curling into his arms. Was there any moment in Alain's long long life, no, in all of history was there a moment more perfect than this one. "My true soul forever."

His kissed her then, with all the passion, and love a man, even an immortal man with more failed relationships than hairs on his head could contain without bursting like a keg of gunpowder with his feelings for this woman.

She had called him a true soul. That was because he was only half and she was his other half, together they made each other whole....a true soul. A wholeness he intended to make a physical reality as well as a metaphorical unity of spirit.

He lifted her up in his arms and carried her as a husband should to their bed. Alain laid her down with all the care and tenderness he would if she were made of glass, but she was not. Selena was flesh and bone, and fire, sugar, spice and passion.

He looked down at her eyes filled with love and passion. Lifting a knee and placing it beside he reached down and took her hand in his rubbing a thumb and slow circles over the soft area between her thumb and finger. The other hand trailed a finger over her lips offering it for her lips to claim and suckle upon. Alain then trailed that finger down her neck and chest to circle and tease her nipple.

Together they were one... they were whole. Two lost souls simply wandering surviving lost and alone. Now they were one their union completing them and soon yet again their union would be physical as well. Laying there she held his hand and her free hand moving to trace fingertips along his chest and arms. Her legs moving to twine with his. Curling deep into his embrace she nipped at his fingertips then his lips and jawline. She whimpered softly at the gentle and tender affections of someone far more wonderful than she ever could have hoped for and perhaps more amazing then she should ever deserve. Her Alain... her heart... her soul.

IC: Alain De'Montreau: Venice Italy; Sept. 11, 1887

She twined her legs around his as Alain's fingers flicked her nipple between them. He bent down over and planted his lips against her in soft, tender, fluttering kisses. His hand migrated down the center line of her body, fingers slipping into the fertile valley paradise between her legs.

He looked up into her eyes as his fingers found her wet crease, and the nubbin of pleasure his fingertips courted.

"Shhh, Mon Amor," He whispered to her, "Just take in the pleasure you deserve."

She smiled feeling his fingertips as she stared into his eyes. His voice and soft words caressing her ears as she nodded and curled her legs around moving to caress him as her form wriggled at his affections and attentions. A soft gasp falling from her lips from time to time. Eyes falling closed as her body arched and her hands gripped holding the sheets letting her body sink into the bliss of his love and desire. All the cruel words of the party was gone lost in fading smoke as her hands reached to feel the warmth and wonderful touch of her lover and soul.

IC" Alain De'Montreau: Venice Italy; September 11, 1887

"Shhh, Mon Amor," He whispered to her, "Just take in the pleasure you deserve."

First Alain's fingers ran over the crease of her sex dipping just the pad of his fingertips between them. Spreading them wide he slipped a finger and circled her dainty pearl of pleasure. The fingertip grazing over the surface, gently at first, then more forcefully. His other fingers slipped inside, slow, leisurely, so Selena could enjoy every moment, every sensation of the penetration.

His other hand tightening posessively around hers.

He kissed her a deep passionate kiss that left her straining for more when he pulled away trailing kisses down her neck and chest to her stomach and down to his active fingers between her legs. He kissed her inner thigh, before taking over the titilation of that pearl with lips and tongue as three fingers pushed within her pulling out to push back in slow at first but increasing in pace.

He wanted her to be bathed in nothing but pleasure.

She gasped her eyes fluttering closed as she felt his slow trail of kisses and the affections of his fingers. Her hand caressing him as the other hand still gripped his tight. She bit her lip head tilting back as all that existed in that moment was love sensation and two souls being one. Her legs tensed drawing up before draping over his. She could not help but whimper out his name at the all the pleasure and desire.

Alain...

The gasp barely a whisper as her body arched in sheer desire.

IC: Alain De'Montreau; Venice Italy: Sept. 11, 1887

"Alain..." She whispered arching up

His name from her mouth announced the success of his mission to transport to a paradise of pleasure and love, the same place the look she made when thinking about him took Alain. Fabled Shan Gri Lah, the garden of eden, Aphrodite's temple.

His fingers wet from her passions spread wide the lips, St. Michael's gates, and Alain's clever and agile tongue began to lathe and tease and caress the pink walls within between trips up for that tongue to pay the attention to her pearl it was due then back between the gates of paradise.

His hand still held hers but the free one reached up and began to knead her breast rolling and teasing her nipple as he feasted upon her carrying Selena up the slope until they stood on the very brink of exhilerating climax.

Once she was hanging off that precipice he pulled away from her sex trailing kisses, slow, tender, sensually up her stomach, dipping his tongue into her bellybutton, up the centerline of her body detouring to pay homage to each of her breasts before traveling back up to her lips. There he placed soft fluttering kisses upon them. His free hand sliding through her dark hair to cup the back of her head before deepening the kiss.

His thigh pressed against her sex, making small motion against it, keeping it well-stimulated so Selena would not think he had abandoed it.

Selena squeezed his hand in the sheer desire of it all as she lay there lost in all the pleasure and sensation he was giving. Then feeling him slowly trailing kisses up her body and over her breasts she whimpered wriggling slightly till his lips found hers again. Another sensation of his hip gently massaging as their kiss deepened her free hand moving from gripping the sheet to swirling in his hair as well as they kissed. Her legs loosely twining with his as her body moved with his hips. She had plans of getting him as well once the kiss was broken unless her wonderful lover had anything else in mind and even if he did.

IC: Alain De'Montreau: Venice Italy; Sept. 11, 1887

Her whimpers of pleasure the arch and unspoken pleas of desire in her body language were music to Alain's ears.

Selena was a goddess, his goddess, casting off her divinity in the supreme sacrifice of living life with him....Alain was a worshipful pilgrim kneeling at her altar and bathing her in the prayers of lips, tongues, and caress.

"This your night, Mon Amor," He whispered to her against her lips between kisses, "What is your pleasure?"

She smiled at his words and with a wriggle of he form and a little exerted strength she had rolled them over and smiled down at him with a devious smile.

What is the saying turn about... fair play.

She nipped at his lips and along his neck and shoulders then down along his chest and abs. Then a taunting nip and a wink the turn was hers to take him to that ledge and leave him there but she would take her time as lips parted and her tongue danced out over that little point as she slowly began to toy with his hunger and manhood with her tongue and lips. Watching his every reaction through lashes ancient listening to every sound that fell from him as she suckled and taunted more desire from him.

IC: Alain De'Montreau: Venice Italy, Sept. 11, 1887

"This your night, Mon Amor," He whispered to her against her lips between kisses, "What is your pleasure?"

Her beautiful face brightened with a smile up at him. Alain couldn't imagine going another day without making this woman's face brighten with a smile. Why-

She maneuvered and he was rolled over onto his back atop their bed. Selena gleamed down at him, mischeiviously. "What is the saying turn about... fair play."

With that she bent down and began to kiss and nip at his chest and and shoulders. His hands slid up her back allowing her free reign and movement down to tease and play with his manhood, a goddess extolling her high priest to rise up in worship to her, and that priest, that worshipper rose under enticing ministrations.

"Mmm...Selena," He said running fingers down her spine, "When did I get so lucky, to ever find you?"

Then a taunting nip and a wink the turn was hers to take him to that ledge and leave him there but she would take her time as lips parted and her tongue danced out over that little point as she slowly began to toy with his hunger and manhood with her tongue and lips. Watching his every reaction through lashes ancient listening to every sound that fell from him as she suckled and taunted more desire from him.

Hearing his words she simply winked and continued to tease and taunt before her actions and affections grew more intent a purr slipping from her lips. Her eyes trying to watch him to see him find himself at that ledge before she stopped just as he had done. Strange the things a tender pure and genuine love an all that come.with it. This was something she never wanted to lose... this perfection... this love... their love.

IC: Alain De'Montreau: Venice Italy; Sept. 11, 1887

"Mmm...Selena," He said running fingers down her spine, "When did I get so lucky, to ever find you?"

In response she simply winked back at him lowering herself to continue teasing and taunting the hard velvet length of him with her tongue and lips. A contented purr escapes her luscious mouth as she did sending wonderful vibrations down his manhood.

Her eyes watched him waiting and he let out a groan with, "My god, Selena, you are so damn beautiful and sexy. There's something so wild about seeing you like this. I can't even tell you what it makes me want to do to you."

The things she did to him. Selena his lovely dancer, dancing her tongue to the music of his pants and groans and whimpers over the sensitive places on the head and shaft of his cock. He was getting close now, right up to the edge.

Alain's hands slipped through her raven locks, fingers placed atop her head. Pressing down and raising his hips for the final touch from those wonderful mouth to push him off the ledge, but she pulled away. He looked at her in desire and need as she smiled mischeviously at leaving in such a state.

"I want you, Selena," He stated his voice thick with his hunger for her, "I love you, forever, for the rest of my life."