He had been cautious with this kiss, still not able to read her, although he thought he was getting better. But, thinking it might catch her by surprise he'd been rather reserved. When Belle moved their glasses aside a large smile appeared on Ambrose's face, she was now catching him off guard but he was -not- going to complain about it.
She was more aggressive than expected and for a second Ambrose let her lead, but he wasn't always good at following. He gently slid his arms around her pulling her closer and adding substance and closeness to the kiss. Finally sitting back, but not letting her go, Ambrose once again lightly brushed her lips with his own.
"Appetizers are supposed to make you hungry aren't they?"
There was no way he could not tease her and grinned as he did so. To his surprise his fangs had made themselves known. While not totally exposed they were more prominent. He'd known that Belle was getting to him again, he just hadn't been aware how much.
How Not To Look A Gift Horse In the Mouth - (private)
Ysabel was struggling with her unpacking once again, only this time she didn't have Dayle there to help her out with it. She'd been tossing boxes haphazardly out onto her little balcony as she unpacked each one and the pile was growing in leaps and bounds. She figured she'd throw them out soon enough.
Sliding the doors open one last time she tossed one more box onto the stack, making a little noise of dismay when it tumbled over the others and kept on going right to the ground. The urge to simply float it back up to the balcony was strong but she didn't know who might be wandering around who shouldn't be. Her room overlooked a lovely bit of grassy lawn, and she certainly couldn't just leave the box out there.
So, feeling fairly safe in leaving her door unlocked, she left her suite, descended the stairs with her skirts lifted up arond her feet, and walked quickly outside. She tiptoed through the grass; a fair amount of condensation had already gathered on it and she tried her best not to make a mess of her gown and slippers.
Retrieving her wayward box she glanced around, saw no one, and tossed it back up to her own balcony with a bit of assistance. Then she made her way back around and into the Manor again, sliding through the hallways back to her suite with the little bit of hesitance born of unfamiliarity.
Ambrose
18 years ago
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ambrose had her ensnared, with his arms circled comfortably around her waist. She laughed softly when he sat back, pulling her with him. Now Ysabel was rather intimately sprawled over him, very much aware of the hard length of his body against hers. She wrapped her own arms around his neck in return and when he brushed her lips a second time she mischievously flicked the tip of her tongue along his lower lip.
It was so cliche, so entirely expected, but she had to say it. She was caught in the pattern and the next step was quite obvious, at least to her.
"Are you hungry then, Ambrose? Because you've barely touched the main course."
Her fingertips were taking immense delight in running themselves through his hair and massaging the base of his neck. She wriggled against him slightly, shifting herself up to better reach his lips as he grinned at her, fangs bared and now very obvious. Ysabel returned his smile, her fangs far smaller and more delicate but still as formidable, and leaned toward him for another taste.
Ysabel had never in her entire life had another vampire as a lover. She was very much going to enjoy that, but it was no small part of her that was well aware that regardless, human or vampire, she was very much taken with Ambrose for Ambrose.
With that in mind she reached for him yet again, her parted lips to his, just barely letting the tips of her fangs skim over his lower lip before tilting her head a bit and nipping ever so lightly, teasingly, at the tip of his tongue.
It was so cliche, so entirely expected, but she had to say it. She was caught in the pattern and the next step was quite obvious, at least to her.
"Are you hungry then, Ambrose? Because you've barely touched the main course."
Her fingertips were taking immense delight in running themselves through his hair and massaging the base of his neck. She wriggled against him slightly, shifting herself up to better reach his lips as he grinned at her, fangs bared and now very obvious. Ysabel returned his smile, her fangs far smaller and more delicate but still as formidable, and leaned toward him for another taste.
Ysabel had never in her entire life had another vampire as a lover. She was very much going to enjoy that, but it was no small part of her that was well aware that regardless, human or vampire, she was very much taken with Ambrose for Ambrose.
With that in mind she reached for him yet again, her parted lips to his, just barely letting the tips of her fangs skim over his lower lip before tilting her head a bit and nipping ever so lightly, teasingly, at the tip of his tongue.
Ambrose
18 years ago
Any ideas he had about Ysabel being old fashion or retiring or shy were being deliciously shoved right out of the window. God she was a temptress wasn't she, the invitation couldn't have been more clear if she'd hit him over the head. And that wasn't far off the mark...
Seeing her fangs, feeling the teasing nibble, 'more appealing' didn't cover it; she'd taken on a predatory air and Ambrose had to rise to the challenge. It didn't matter who she was or had been what matted was she was here now.
Not being shy he began to tease her lips, tongue, pressing her backwards until the only thing keeping her on the sofa was the arm. If he had his way that would break and they could wind up on the floor together. His kisses worked their way from her lips down her throat, and a beautiful throat it was white and inviting. With a surprising delicacy Ambrose sank his fangs into her neck. the taste of her and the richness of her blood was surprising, almost over powering. He gently kissed the two puncture marks clean.
"Delicious..."
It sounded absent minded and dreamy even to his own ears.
Seeing her fangs, feeling the teasing nibble, 'more appealing' didn't cover it; she'd taken on a predatory air and Ambrose had to rise to the challenge. It didn't matter who she was or had been what matted was she was here now.
Not being shy he began to tease her lips, tongue, pressing her backwards until the only thing keeping her on the sofa was the arm. If he had his way that would break and they could wind up on the floor together. His kisses worked their way from her lips down her throat, and a beautiful throat it was white and inviting. With a surprising delicacy Ambrose sank his fangs into her neck. the taste of her and the richness of her blood was surprising, almost over powering. He gently kissed the two puncture marks clean.
"Delicious..."
It sounded absent minded and dreamy even to his own ears.
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel found herself neatly pressed back between the arm of the couch and her double-armful of delightfully aroused vampire. He was agressive but gentle, a combination that sent little jagged waves of heat through each nerve he touched.
Surprised at his bite, Ysabel closed her eyes and savored the sensation that she was being... possessed. Not in a controlling way; this was territorial. It was utterly different from any bite she had ever shared with her family, more intense and arousing than anything she'd experienced with past lovers. It was the staking of a claim, and it was crystal clear to her in that moment that if things continued on this way, if she and Ambrose remained together, she would belong entirely to him.
The thought wasn't at all objectionable.
As she heard his voice, as if from far away; as his lips so sweetly kissed the sensitive little punctures he'd made, something inside her rose to the fore and she found herself growling very softly under her breath, brushing her hands once again over the tanned planes of Ambrose's cheekbones, and tipping her head into his neck now. She could feel his pulse, slower than a human's but faster than it would normally be, and she aimed for it, to complete the possession, to make him hers as surely as he'd just marked her.
His blood was warm and invigorating as it flowed between her lips. Contradictory to his physical appearance, he tasted of energy and wholeness and something alive and vibrant. Ysabel was breathless when she finally pulled away, the tip of her own tongue lazily stroking the punctures closed.
At some point she'd clamped onto his back tightly, and now she let up. "Ambrose."
She couldn't say more than that, but she turned to him again and looked into his light brown eyes questioningly, her lips still parted and flushed with the aftereffects of his blood.
Surprised at his bite, Ysabel closed her eyes and savored the sensation that she was being... possessed. Not in a controlling way; this was territorial. It was utterly different from any bite she had ever shared with her family, more intense and arousing than anything she'd experienced with past lovers. It was the staking of a claim, and it was crystal clear to her in that moment that if things continued on this way, if she and Ambrose remained together, she would belong entirely to him.
The thought wasn't at all objectionable.
As she heard his voice, as if from far away; as his lips so sweetly kissed the sensitive little punctures he'd made, something inside her rose to the fore and she found herself growling very softly under her breath, brushing her hands once again over the tanned planes of Ambrose's cheekbones, and tipping her head into his neck now. She could feel his pulse, slower than a human's but faster than it would normally be, and she aimed for it, to complete the possession, to make him hers as surely as he'd just marked her.
His blood was warm and invigorating as it flowed between her lips. Contradictory to his physical appearance, he tasted of energy and wholeness and something alive and vibrant. Ysabel was breathless when she finally pulled away, the tip of her own tongue lazily stroking the punctures closed.
At some point she'd clamped onto his back tightly, and now she let up. "Ambrose."
She couldn't say more than that, but she turned to him again and looked into his light brown eyes questioningly, her lips still parted and flushed with the aftereffects of his blood.
Ambrose
18 years ago
He'd been satiated when she'd allowed him to bite her and was very amenable to her attack on him. It was a unique experience. Ambrose had only very rarely been bitten by another vampire and then it was more for survival. When Ysabel found his plus point it was intimate, it was arousing and, for lack of a better word, made him extremely happy.
Beautiful blue eyes looked into his and Ambrose buried one hand in her hair and lazily set about loosening it. Not willing to deny himself he again found her lips for a light kiss breaking with a playful nip to her lower lip. It was considerably less intimate than what they'd just shared, but no less satisfying.
"Yes Belle?"
He smiled lazily at her. She could take all the wrong turns she wanted if he got to keep running into her like this.
Her expression obviously held a question, but until he knew what it was Ambrose couldn't answer it.
Beautiful blue eyes looked into his and Ambrose buried one hand in her hair and lazily set about loosening it. Not willing to deny himself he again found her lips for a light kiss breaking with a playful nip to her lower lip. It was considerably less intimate than what they'd just shared, but no less satisfying.
"Yes Belle?"
He smiled lazily at her. She could take all the wrong turns she wanted if he got to keep running into her like this.
Her expression obviously held a question, but until he knew what it was Ambrose couldn't answer it.
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel almost forgot what she was going to say; as Ambrose's hand threaded through her hair and he kissed her lightly yet again, a soft sigh escaped her lips and she melted against him. As he diligently worked, she finally felt the weight of her hair loosen and fall, tumbling over the arm of the couch and cascading in ripples onto the floor.
His lazy smile was too tempting and she reclaimed his lips for a slow kiss. The intensity of their exchanged bites had left her momentarily satisfied; her nerves were still humming with his warmth and his touch. His weight atop her was by no means too much. The couch was soft, and she felt rather like she were being snuggled warmly into an Ambrose-blanket. That in mind she splayed her hands over his back, rubbing slowly and enjoying the caresses and the feel of his shirt against her palms.
It took her a few moments to find her voice again, and she'd meant to ask him about himself to assuage the burning desire she now felt to know every detail about him. But he'd been somewhat closed about his past before and she didn't want him to think it might have any bearing on what she felt. They didn't all have cheerful and happy pasts though, and whether Ambrose was one of the ones who did or not, she wasn't willing to risk losing the mood by bringing it up. Instead she rubbed her cheek against his, ever so lightly kissed his earlobe, and relaxed back into the arm of the couch, tightening her arms around him.
"Don't leave."
Why that plea came out, she didn't know. He'd made no move to do so but Ysabel felt somehow, that having drawn Ambrose out this far recalling his seeming reluctance or shyness from their first couple of meetings, she was afraid he'd back off again - and she didn't want him to.
His lazy smile was too tempting and she reclaimed his lips for a slow kiss. The intensity of their exchanged bites had left her momentarily satisfied; her nerves were still humming with his warmth and his touch. His weight atop her was by no means too much. The couch was soft, and she felt rather like she were being snuggled warmly into an Ambrose-blanket. That in mind she splayed her hands over his back, rubbing slowly and enjoying the caresses and the feel of his shirt against her palms.
It took her a few moments to find her voice again, and she'd meant to ask him about himself to assuage the burning desire she now felt to know every detail about him. But he'd been somewhat closed about his past before and she didn't want him to think it might have any bearing on what she felt. They didn't all have cheerful and happy pasts though, and whether Ambrose was one of the ones who did or not, she wasn't willing to risk losing the mood by bringing it up. Instead she rubbed her cheek against his, ever so lightly kissed his earlobe, and relaxed back into the arm of the couch, tightening her arms around him.
"Don't leave."
Why that plea came out, she didn't know. He'd made no move to do so but Ysabel felt somehow, that having drawn Ambrose out this far recalling his seeming reluctance or shyness from their first couple of meetings, she was afraid he'd back off again - and she didn't want him to.
Ambrose
18 years ago
Ambrose hadn't realized exactly how much hair she had, he'd had an idea that is was insanely long but damned. Still it wasn't Ysabel's hair that held him rather it was Belle herself and not just her arms, the little touches or the firm grip she'd suddenly taken of him.
Her words were entirely unexpected. He'd seen her give the appearance of vulnerability but had chalked it up to flirting or his imagination. A woman, to say nothing of being a vampire, of the caliber and personality and wit she'd shown herself to be in their few dates should not ever have to say something like that. If some bastard had messed with her previously...
He nuzzled her neck, the neck he'd so recently bitten trying to reassure her.
"No, I wouldn't do that."
If they kept lying her like this he was going to get ideas, ideas he'd already had but they were currently closer to them than they had been.
In an effort to lighten the mood, at least slightly he grinned down at her, teasing, giving her another quick peck on the lips.
"If nothing else its my place."
Ambrose was certain she hadn't started out to say 'Don't leave' and wanted to know what she had intended to say, but all in her time.
Her words were entirely unexpected. He'd seen her give the appearance of vulnerability but had chalked it up to flirting or his imagination. A woman, to say nothing of being a vampire, of the caliber and personality and wit she'd shown herself to be in their few dates should not ever have to say something like that. If some bastard had messed with her previously...
He nuzzled her neck, the neck he'd so recently bitten trying to reassure her.
"No, I wouldn't do that."
If they kept lying her like this he was going to get ideas, ideas he'd already had but they were currently closer to them than they had been.
In an effort to lighten the mood, at least slightly he grinned down at her, teasing, giving her another quick peck on the lips.
"If nothing else its my place."
Ambrose was certain she hadn't started out to say 'Don't leave' and wanted to know what she had intended to say, but all in her time.
Ysabel
18 years ago
The skin of her neck was still sensitive and when Ambrose nuzzled into it, Ysabel felt a pleasant chill travel up her spine. She smiled and realized she was plucking at his shirt, her hands unconsciously seeking the contact with his skin rather than stroking his back through the fabric. She hadn't been invited to do that though, and as soon as she became aware of where she was headed, of how very little it would take to go further, she stilled her motions, satisfied with holding and being held. Not that they could get much more intimate, she thought. She'd never shared a bite like that with anyone before.
Ambrose was teasing her now, and as he kissed her quickly she nipped back playfully. It was impossible to curtsey, trapped beneath him as she was, but she did drop one hand to grab her skirts and ducked her head in he approximation of the movement.
"You have a point. However, you've quite neatly pinned me here and on my best day, I don't think I could move you." It was an experiment she didn't care to try, as she was quite enjoying their position anyhow, even if it was making her think of... other activities.
It was still hard to believe, intimidating to think in a way, that Ambrose wasn't going to grow old and die. The possibilities, the vague idea of what they could be, of what they could become and the years they could span spread out before her eyes like a map. Ysabel could almost see it... but she didn't know what Ambrose's plans for the future were, and she didn't want him to alter them just because ofher, so she kept that wonder to herself for the time being.
Instead, she dotted his neck, jaw, and face with tiny kisses, tightening her arms around him and glad that he didn't seem inclined to withdraw from her. It gave her courage to ask her questions, to try to find out more about him.
"Who are you Ambrose?" she whispered softly, curiously, as she touched her lips briefly to each cheek. "I want to learn about you. I've never met anyone like you."
That was certainly true. If anyone had asked Ysabel what kind of person she saw herself with a week ago, "prickly," "stubborn," and "moody" weren't three terms she would have immediately fired off - but now they seemed perfect.
Ambrose was teasing her now, and as he kissed her quickly she nipped back playfully. It was impossible to curtsey, trapped beneath him as she was, but she did drop one hand to grab her skirts and ducked her head in he approximation of the movement.
"You have a point. However, you've quite neatly pinned me here and on my best day, I don't think I could move you." It was an experiment she didn't care to try, as she was quite enjoying their position anyhow, even if it was making her think of... other activities.
It was still hard to believe, intimidating to think in a way, that Ambrose wasn't going to grow old and die. The possibilities, the vague idea of what they could be, of what they could become and the years they could span spread out before her eyes like a map. Ysabel could almost see it... but she didn't know what Ambrose's plans for the future were, and she didn't want him to alter them just because ofher, so she kept that wonder to herself for the time being.
Instead, she dotted his neck, jaw, and face with tiny kisses, tightening her arms around him and glad that he didn't seem inclined to withdraw from her. It gave her courage to ask her questions, to try to find out more about him.
"Who are you Ambrose?" she whispered softly, curiously, as she touched her lips briefly to each cheek. "I want to learn about you. I've never met anyone like you."
That was certainly true. If anyone had asked Ysabel what kind of person she saw herself with a week ago, "prickly," "stubborn," and "moody" weren't three terms she would have immediately fired off - but now they seemed perfect.
Ambrose
18 years ago
"Just when I was starting to think you liked being held hostage."
Although it certainly didn't seem like it was against her will and Ambrose wasn't inclined to alter their position, even with that comment.
A chuckle well in the back of his throat was the response to her 'squashed' curtsy. He would have placed money on it being impossible to make such a gesture with him more or less on top of her and most women probably wouldn't have tried.
"That's a trick question Belle. I can tell you who I was and more or less who I am but.."
He gave up and grinned and shrugged at the same time, this wasn't a conversation Ambrose was particularly good at. But it was a conversation he was willing to share with her, generally it was something he would side step or down right ignore. If she was even just as old as he was Ambrose felt she would know what he was trying to say.
Absently he caressed her side, his hand traveled from hip to breast and back to her waist. He hadn't been told he could do that, but he'd been more of a gentleman with her than he was usually and had reached a point where taking liberties was just going to happen, unless she objected.
"We can do the whole David Copperfield thing if you want though, I don't hide much. What can I tell you?"
Although it certainly didn't seem like it was against her will and Ambrose wasn't inclined to alter their position, even with that comment.
A chuckle well in the back of his throat was the response to her 'squashed' curtsy. He would have placed money on it being impossible to make such a gesture with him more or less on top of her and most women probably wouldn't have tried.
"That's a trick question Belle. I can tell you who I was and more or less who I am but.."
He gave up and grinned and shrugged at the same time, this wasn't a conversation Ambrose was particularly good at. But it was a conversation he was willing to share with her, generally it was something he would side step or down right ignore. If she was even just as old as he was Ambrose felt she would know what he was trying to say.
Absently he caressed her side, his hand traveled from hip to breast and back to her waist. He hadn't been told he could do that, but he'd been more of a gentleman with her than he was usually and had reached a point where taking liberties was just going to happen, unless she objected.
"We can do the whole David Copperfield thing if you want though, I don't hide much. What can I tell you?"
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel smiled somewhat dreamily up at Ambrose. "I had never given a hostage situation much thought. I think I might enjoy it, though. You could be stuck with me."
He hadn't moved, even after that. His hand was wandering along her side and she was glad she'd worn something that didn't involve twenty minutes of lacing to get into. Again the combination of aggression and gentleness appealed to her. Even if she hadn't heard him chuckle she would have felt it with her arms around him and her body pressed against his the way it was.
When she had asked him about himself, she hadn't realized that when he actually did offer anything, she wouldn't care about the answer. It wasn't that she didn't value who he was; it was just that suddenly she realized he could have been Jack the Ripper and she would have stayed where she was and wished for more of his kissing.
That could very easily have been the product of the fact that she watched his lips move while he spoke to her, and Ysabel found herself entranced. She lifted her head to kiss him again herself, giving into temptation and savoring the way he tasted.
When she finally dropped her head back on the arm of the couch, she gave him a little smile. "I suppose I'm just curious about what brought you here. Where you started, what you did."
Because it was only fair she continued talking without realizing her voice had dropped to a murmur, brought on by their lazy mood.
"I was born and raised in England. I don't remember anything about my parents; they were killed by the plague. Richard and Elsa Yolgrave adopted my sister and I, and have been our loving mother and father ever since. They're the ones who turned us too, when Dayle found herself in a bit of trouble. They were going to drown her, so Richard turned her. She wouldn't go unless they offered the same to me, so Elsa let me choose my own fate.
"As you can see," she grinned impishly, "I couldn't let Dayle wander around on her own for eternity."
Figuring she might let him know there were no known recent cases of plague she added with a grin, "Six hundred and sixteen years. That's how long my sister and I have been together."
There was, of course, a great deal more to her background, but she was too busy focusing on the way his hand moved. Ysabel didn't mind the forwardness one bit; in fact she tightened her arms around him and arched her back a bit, trying to get as close to him as possible. As his hand moved over her breast and then back down she figured turnabout was fair play and let her own hands do what they'd wanted to before, diving under the fabric of his shirt to rest themselves wonderfully against the warm, smooth skin of his back.
She skimmed the side of his neck she hadn't bitten with her fangs, almost tempted to repeat the process on that side but she held herself in check, interested in whatever pieces of his past he might choose to tell her.
He hadn't moved, even after that. His hand was wandering along her side and she was glad she'd worn something that didn't involve twenty minutes of lacing to get into. Again the combination of aggression and gentleness appealed to her. Even if she hadn't heard him chuckle she would have felt it with her arms around him and her body pressed against his the way it was.
When she had asked him about himself, she hadn't realized that when he actually did offer anything, she wouldn't care about the answer. It wasn't that she didn't value who he was; it was just that suddenly she realized he could have been Jack the Ripper and she would have stayed where she was and wished for more of his kissing.
That could very easily have been the product of the fact that she watched his lips move while he spoke to her, and Ysabel found herself entranced. She lifted her head to kiss him again herself, giving into temptation and savoring the way he tasted.
When she finally dropped her head back on the arm of the couch, she gave him a little smile. "I suppose I'm just curious about what brought you here. Where you started, what you did."
Because it was only fair she continued talking without realizing her voice had dropped to a murmur, brought on by their lazy mood.
"I was born and raised in England. I don't remember anything about my parents; they were killed by the plague. Richard and Elsa Yolgrave adopted my sister and I, and have been our loving mother and father ever since. They're the ones who turned us too, when Dayle found herself in a bit of trouble. They were going to drown her, so Richard turned her. She wouldn't go unless they offered the same to me, so Elsa let me choose my own fate.
"As you can see," she grinned impishly, "I couldn't let Dayle wander around on her own for eternity."
Figuring she might let him know there were no known recent cases of plague she added with a grin, "Six hundred and sixteen years. That's how long my sister and I have been together."
There was, of course, a great deal more to her background, but she was too busy focusing on the way his hand moved. Ysabel didn't mind the forwardness one bit; in fact she tightened her arms around him and arched her back a bit, trying to get as close to him as possible. As his hand moved over her breast and then back down she figured turnabout was fair play and let her own hands do what they'd wanted to before, diving under the fabric of his shirt to rest themselves wonderfully against the warm, smooth skin of his back.
She skimmed the side of his neck she hadn't bitten with her fangs, almost tempted to repeat the process on that side but she held herself in check, interested in whatever pieces of his past he might choose to tell her.
Ambrose
18 years ago
"So your sister is the trouble maker and you're the perfect angel?"
He shot another grin at her as he spoke.
The idea of a vampire family, that was unique in his experience. Ambrose had never considered bringing any of his family with him. Even if he had, he doubted they would have managed six hundred years together. However, it did now make it important he meet her sister.
Wow, six hundred years and she still looked amazing, the beauties of immortality.
Her hands were warmer than he'd imagined and briefly Ambrose wondered how much he had contributed to that. When she found the other side of his neck the idea of biting or being bitten again surfaced; it wasn't a bad idea. He held back though, there would be time later.
"I can't say I'm that interesting. We moved out west when I was very young, we had a ranch, but I was the one who wound up in trouble and chased off. Kept causing trouble after that, and when I finally decide to go straight that's when I get shot. Damaris turned me to keep my sorry ass alive."
To this day Ambrose hadn't regretted that sudden decision. Being alive was, undead, was much better than really being dead.
He'd given an abbreviated version of his history, but what he found significant was they'd both had a choice in where they were now. Not everyone would have acted as they had. It gave him hope. He wasn't sure what he was hoping for, other than she wouldn't want to move any time soon, but hope nonetheless.
((OOC... standing permission in this thread for Ysable to touch move etc to her hearts content))
He shot another grin at her as he spoke.
The idea of a vampire family, that was unique in his experience. Ambrose had never considered bringing any of his family with him. Even if he had, he doubted they would have managed six hundred years together. However, it did now make it important he meet her sister.
Wow, six hundred years and she still looked amazing, the beauties of immortality.
Her hands were warmer than he'd imagined and briefly Ambrose wondered how much he had contributed to that. When she found the other side of his neck the idea of biting or being bitten again surfaced; it wasn't a bad idea. He held back though, there would be time later.
"I can't say I'm that interesting. We moved out west when I was very young, we had a ranch, but I was the one who wound up in trouble and chased off. Kept causing trouble after that, and when I finally decide to go straight that's when I get shot. Damaris turned me to keep my sorry ass alive."
To this day Ambrose hadn't regretted that sudden decision. Being alive was, undead, was much better than really being dead.
He'd given an abbreviated version of his history, but what he found significant was they'd both had a choice in where they were now. Not everyone would have acted as they had. It gave him hope. He wasn't sure what he was hoping for, other than she wouldn't want to move any time soon, but hope nonetheless.
((OOC... standing permission in this thread for Ysable to touch move etc to her hearts content))
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel listened to Ambrose's lovely voice with interest. She always found others' backgrounds fascinating; that was one of the joys of being a vampire. There was such diversity in their race. And, when delivered to her in the mellow tenor tones shaped by the lips she'd kissed just a moment ago, the words seemed even weightier.
She smiled at the idea of Ambrose the Trouble Maker. Given what she already knew of his personality, she could see him as the rebellious type. Certainly he was taken with her and that much was apparent in the way he treated her, but she had rubbed up against his surly side quite a bit as well, and Ysabel had tasted the energy and life inside of him. He was passionate, the man in her arms. Passionate in the sense that he was alive and vibrant and did things with impulse and feeling.
How different they were in that sense.
"You got shot," she repeated. Then she raised her brows, and trailed her hand down his left side lightly, wondering if it would tickle. When she hit the denim of his jeans she went over the top of them, resting her hand on his left hip. "Is that when this happened?" She knew the subject of his leg was a sore point. Ysabel was sorry for it, but she was having trouble feeling anything like pity, particularly if having his leg shot off was what had ultimately brought him here years later. She would happily take Ambrose without his leg, than to have never known him at all.
She didn't recognize the name of his creator, either. "Damaris... is she still with us?" Ysabel was very curious about that. She had had such a cozy upbringing... even when she'd been turned, her mother and father had been beside her and Dayle, holding their hands every step of the way, teaching them everything they needed to know to get along in society, if they didn't choose to stay at home.
Ysabel was not naive by any stretch of the imagination. She was perfectly well aware of the nature of her kind, and she knew that it wasn't always the case that vampires chose their own destinies. It had happened that way for her though, and it seemed like Ambrose had had some choice in the matter as well.
She wondered if that had anything to do with what drew them together as potential lovers. There had to be something shared there, something that prompted two individuals to choose this life over death. Moving her other hand to Ambrose's other hip, she pulled him tight and gave him another one of her impish grins.
"I can't say I find your ass sorry at all." She made a little show of craning her neck and peering over his shoulder at the part in question, then turned her blue-grey eyes on him and slowly, lightly, ran the very tip of her tongue along the edge of his ear. She stopped when she was about midway down, whispering ever so softly, "And to answer your question, I may be the angelic one, but that doesn't mean I can't make trouble of my own."
She smiled at the idea of Ambrose the Trouble Maker. Given what she already knew of his personality, she could see him as the rebellious type. Certainly he was taken with her and that much was apparent in the way he treated her, but she had rubbed up against his surly side quite a bit as well, and Ysabel had tasted the energy and life inside of him. He was passionate, the man in her arms. Passionate in the sense that he was alive and vibrant and did things with impulse and feeling.
How different they were in that sense.
"You got shot," she repeated. Then she raised her brows, and trailed her hand down his left side lightly, wondering if it would tickle. When she hit the denim of his jeans she went over the top of them, resting her hand on his left hip. "Is that when this happened?" She knew the subject of his leg was a sore point. Ysabel was sorry for it, but she was having trouble feeling anything like pity, particularly if having his leg shot off was what had ultimately brought him here years later. She would happily take Ambrose without his leg, than to have never known him at all.
She didn't recognize the name of his creator, either. "Damaris... is she still with us?" Ysabel was very curious about that. She had had such a cozy upbringing... even when she'd been turned, her mother and father had been beside her and Dayle, holding their hands every step of the way, teaching them everything they needed to know to get along in society, if they didn't choose to stay at home.
Ysabel was not naive by any stretch of the imagination. She was perfectly well aware of the nature of her kind, and she knew that it wasn't always the case that vampires chose their own destinies. It had happened that way for her though, and it seemed like Ambrose had had some choice in the matter as well.
She wondered if that had anything to do with what drew them together as potential lovers. There had to be something shared there, something that prompted two individuals to choose this life over death. Moving her other hand to Ambrose's other hip, she pulled him tight and gave him another one of her impish grins.
"I can't say I find your ass sorry at all." She made a little show of craning her neck and peering over his shoulder at the part in question, then turned her blue-grey eyes on him and slowly, lightly, ran the very tip of her tongue along the edge of his ear. She stopped when she was about midway down, whispering ever so softly, "And to answer your question, I may be the angelic one, but that doesn't mean I can't make trouble of my own."
Ambrose
18 years ago
As her hand made its way to his left him and she asked about his leg Ambrose frowned and went into his poker face. The only sign Ysabel would have he was at all upset would be some tension, ordinarily that might go unnoticed but given the way she was holding him that wasn't likely. Deciding she was asking out of concern and not out of morbid curiosity, once the initial cloud had passed, Ambrose was able to genuinely smile down at her.
"Yup got shot, caught in some cross fire. The doc couldn't save the leg and even after he amputated there was one hell of a fever. Between blood loss and fever I was pretty much doomed."
Damaris' arrival and offer had been well timed, although every once in a while he wondered what would have happened if she'd approached him -before- he lost the leg. She'd once said she'd had her eye on him for a while.
He found himself pleased that Belle would ask after her. Of course he knew she was well breed and had excellent manners but, as Ambrose had a soft spot for his creator. She was an impressive person and had taken good care of him. She managed to teach and watch over him without being over bearing.
"You'd like Damaris I think, she is something else. I got a letter from her about a month ago, she's been back home in Scotland for a while now."
Fifty years or so and the old girl was giving him grief, trying to get him to visit. But Ambrose had never been to Europe and found himself oddly reluctant to go. Of course with Ysabel being British that might change rather suddenly.
She wasn't subtle about checking him out, no not at all. But he apparently met with her approval. Ambrose smiled wolfishly at her and pressed her back into the sofa about as he kissed her leisurely, exploratorialy. God she was tempting wasn't she?
"Demons started out as angels didn't they? I'd say you are in fine company."
Fine company indeed. Speaking of families.
"Do you share rooms here with your sister?"
"Yup got shot, caught in some cross fire. The doc couldn't save the leg and even after he amputated there was one hell of a fever. Between blood loss and fever I was pretty much doomed."
Damaris' arrival and offer had been well timed, although every once in a while he wondered what would have happened if she'd approached him -before- he lost the leg. She'd once said she'd had her eye on him for a while.
He found himself pleased that Belle would ask after her. Of course he knew she was well breed and had excellent manners but, as Ambrose had a soft spot for his creator. She was an impressive person and had taken good care of him. She managed to teach and watch over him without being over bearing.
"You'd like Damaris I think, she is something else. I got a letter from her about a month ago, she's been back home in Scotland for a while now."
Fifty years or so and the old girl was giving him grief, trying to get him to visit. But Ambrose had never been to Europe and found himself oddly reluctant to go. Of course with Ysabel being British that might change rather suddenly.
She wasn't subtle about checking him out, no not at all. But he apparently met with her approval. Ambrose smiled wolfishly at her and pressed her back into the sofa about as he kissed her leisurely, exploratorialy. God she was tempting wasn't she?
"Demons started out as angels didn't they? I'd say you are in fine company."
Fine company indeed. Speaking of families.
"Do you share rooms here with your sister?"
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel hugged Ambrose tightly when he gave her his terse version of the loss of his leg. She wouldn't ask him about it further; she was gratified that he'd told her anything at all, knowing how he felt about the topic. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Ambrose wasn't entirely into his "girly touchy-feely" side. She didn't mind though; there was plenty to be said in the expressions that crossed his face, and she would simply learn to interpret them.
"I would like Damaris if she were a three-headed ogre," Ysabel said with more enthusiasm than she'd intended. "If nothing else, she has already shown superb taste in her children."
Ambrose's kiss was just as well-received as the previous ones, and she returned it with equal joy. It was something else again to be lying here (lying here!) with a man, completely unworried about what he might bring to the Yolgrave family, or how she could benefit by a liaison with him. Ysabel had never felt so free to care about someone just because she wanted to. She wondered how to explain that to Ambrose, or if she should simply enjoy being with him.
Deciding upon the latter for now, she let her hands trail back up from his hips to his lower back, diving under his shirt again and rubbing the muscles there that had so recently tensed. Her hands stilled for a moment when he mentioned her sister, and it took her a second to realize he was asking after Dayle's clan affiliation.
Ysabel was warmed by Ambrose's interest in her family; apparently that was something else they had in common. She smiled and pressed another soft kiss to his lips. "No. Dayle belongs to Tacharan."
This was said with a little sigh; Ysabel would have loved it if Dayle remained in Anantya. They were, after all, the purest and noblest of any vampire clan. But she couldn't fault her for following her heart.
"We share the condo so we can have a neutral ground, someplace for just us." She narrowed her eyes a bit and smiled, catlike. "I'd love to show you sometime; you've seen but the entrance."
Ysabel wriggled into a more comfortable position beneath Ambrose and nuzzled into his shoulder. "The biggest rule there," she said, pulling back and looking into his light brown eyes with sudden sobriety, "is that clan politics go no further than the doorstep."
She wasn't worried though; she knew instinctively that however big a troublemaker Ambrose may claim to have been, he would respect the rules of their home.
((ooc: Ditto the permissions. Full speed ahead Cap'n!))
"I would like Damaris if she were a three-headed ogre," Ysabel said with more enthusiasm than she'd intended. "If nothing else, she has already shown superb taste in her children."
Ambrose's kiss was just as well-received as the previous ones, and she returned it with equal joy. It was something else again to be lying here (lying here!) with a man, completely unworried about what he might bring to the Yolgrave family, or how she could benefit by a liaison with him. Ysabel had never felt so free to care about someone just because she wanted to. She wondered how to explain that to Ambrose, or if she should simply enjoy being with him.
Deciding upon the latter for now, she let her hands trail back up from his hips to his lower back, diving under his shirt again and rubbing the muscles there that had so recently tensed. Her hands stilled for a moment when he mentioned her sister, and it took her a second to realize he was asking after Dayle's clan affiliation.
Ysabel was warmed by Ambrose's interest in her family; apparently that was something else they had in common. She smiled and pressed another soft kiss to his lips. "No. Dayle belongs to Tacharan."
This was said with a little sigh; Ysabel would have loved it if Dayle remained in Anantya. They were, after all, the purest and noblest of any vampire clan. But she couldn't fault her for following her heart.
"We share the condo so we can have a neutral ground, someplace for just us." She narrowed her eyes a bit and smiled, catlike. "I'd love to show you sometime; you've seen but the entrance."
Ysabel wriggled into a more comfortable position beneath Ambrose and nuzzled into his shoulder. "The biggest rule there," she said, pulling back and looking into his light brown eyes with sudden sobriety, "is that clan politics go no further than the doorstep."
She wasn't worried though; she knew instinctively that however big a troublemaker Ambrose may claim to have been, he would respect the rules of their home.
((ooc: Ditto the permissions. Full speed ahead Cap'n!))
Ambrose
18 years ago
He was congratulating himself on wearing his shirt un-tucked, or had he tucked it in and she un-tucked, but she was... Her hands running up and down his back, being extremely attractive and then the wriggling was making it hard for him to be good. But having had his fill of groupies, Ambrose's version of fast food, and quite frankly Belle was better than that. At least that's what he kept telling himself.
Siblings, that was a nice safe topic. Ambrose knew he had a few but had never met them. Damaris didn't keep her 'children' around for extended periods of time after they'd learned what she could teach them. That didn't, however, stop him from being surprised that Belle's sister wasn't part of their clan.
Hearing the note of warning he nodded. Ambrose was pretty fair and would give as good as he got. If she didn't give him trouble he wouldn't give her trouble. But it didn't sound like she was planing on having him over for long philosophical debates either.
"So if we want to argue politics we have to go out side? I hope you've got some good patio furniture."
He teased her. At this point Ambrose didn't give a damned if her sister were human or clanless, he was lying about with her and had other things on his mind.
"How did she wind up on that side of the fence and without you?"
Siblings, that was a nice safe topic. Ambrose knew he had a few but had never met them. Damaris didn't keep her 'children' around for extended periods of time after they'd learned what she could teach them. That didn't, however, stop him from being surprised that Belle's sister wasn't part of their clan.
Hearing the note of warning he nodded. Ambrose was pretty fair and would give as good as he got. If she didn't give him trouble he wouldn't give her trouble. But it didn't sound like she was planing on having him over for long philosophical debates either.
"So if we want to argue politics we have to go out side? I hope you've got some good patio furniture."
He teased her. At this point Ambrose didn't give a damned if her sister were human or clanless, he was lying about with her and had other things on his mind.
"How did she wind up on that side of the fence and without you?"
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel slid her hands up to Ambrose's shoulder blades, tugging his shirt up as she went when it got in the way. Making little circles with her fingertips, she wondered if the smile was ever going to leave her face. Probably not.
"Argue politics as much as you want... just as long as they're not clan politics!" she laughed. Leave to Ambrose to be argumentative. She was learning that about him, and she was surprised to find she liked it.
Then again, she thought, maybe it shouldn't surprise her. Her husbands, for all their gentle manners, had never really made her feel like this... all fiery and more than a little wicked. Perhaps Ambrose's ability to express himself, even on topics he was close-mouthed about, was a fitting compliment to Ysabel's more politic diplomacy.
When he asked about Dayle's joining Tacharan, Ysabel just lifted a shoulder as best she could beneath him. "That's her story to tell," she said softly, touching her nose to the tip of his. "Besides, who am I to tell her where her heart should lie, or whether or not to follow it?"
Parting her lips just a bit, she moved down to kiss the hollow of his throat. "Dayle doesn't belong here in Anantya, like you and I. She's... I don't know. Everything I'm not."
It was the best way to describe her twin, or at least as much describing of her twin as she wanted to do when she was lying in Ambrose's arms for the very first time, and hopefully not the last.
"I love Dayle and I always will. She's my family. But we're not the same inside. She's done what she wanted. And I... although I came here with her, to be with her... I have to do what my heart tells me, too."
"Argue politics as much as you want... just as long as they're not clan politics!" she laughed. Leave to Ambrose to be argumentative. She was learning that about him, and she was surprised to find she liked it.
Then again, she thought, maybe it shouldn't surprise her. Her husbands, for all their gentle manners, had never really made her feel like this... all fiery and more than a little wicked. Perhaps Ambrose's ability to express himself, even on topics he was close-mouthed about, was a fitting compliment to Ysabel's more politic diplomacy.
When he asked about Dayle's joining Tacharan, Ysabel just lifted a shoulder as best she could beneath him. "That's her story to tell," she said softly, touching her nose to the tip of his. "Besides, who am I to tell her where her heart should lie, or whether or not to follow it?"
Parting her lips just a bit, she moved down to kiss the hollow of his throat. "Dayle doesn't belong here in Anantya, like you and I. She's... I don't know. Everything I'm not."
It was the best way to describe her twin, or at least as much describing of her twin as she wanted to do when she was lying in Ambrose's arms for the very first time, and hopefully not the last.
"I love Dayle and I always will. She's my family. But we're not the same inside. She's done what she wanted. And I... although I came here with her, to be with her... I have to do what my heart tells me, too."
Ambrose
18 years ago
"Belle..."
Ambrose half whispered. She was older than he was, certainly she had to know he was fighting a losing battle. Hungrily Ambrose kissed his way down her neck stopping just as he reached her collar bone, punctuating the kisses with the occasionally playful nip. At the same time one hand began to gently tug at the laces of her dress. How had he managed when women wore this much all the time?
"If it was her choice I'm sure she had a reason."
He'd had to pause in order to find a non-judgemental answer. The idea of leaving one clan and going to another was one that Ambrose couldn't understand. But he was willing to give Dayle a chance solely because she was Belle's sister and had been some time.
Was there sadness in her voice? If nothing else the words were almost regretful that she was not the same as her sister.
"Twins or not you are both two separate people and should never be judged against each other. You'd still be here if you had no sister or if you had twenty."
Ambrose half whispered. She was older than he was, certainly she had to know he was fighting a losing battle. Hungrily Ambrose kissed his way down her neck stopping just as he reached her collar bone, punctuating the kisses with the occasionally playful nip. At the same time one hand began to gently tug at the laces of her dress. How had he managed when women wore this much all the time?
"If it was her choice I'm sure she had a reason."
He'd had to pause in order to find a non-judgemental answer. The idea of leaving one clan and going to another was one that Ambrose couldn't understand. But he was willing to give Dayle a chance solely because she was Belle's sister and had been some time.
Was there sadness in her voice? If nothing else the words were almost regretful that she was not the same as her sister.
"Twins or not you are both two separate people and should never be judged against each other. You'd still be here if you had no sister or if you had twenty."
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel squirmed a bit underneath Ambrose, letting out a sigh of pleasure as his lips began to wander. She knew she shouldn't tease so, but he'd had her pinned for some time now and he had to expect she would test out the walls of her prison! Just in case an escape route came available, naturally. She tried to keep telling herself that as one of his hands reached around and toyed with the lacings of her gown. Oh yes. She was definitely just biding her time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to get free.
In retrospect she should be working on a distraction of her own, for her inevitable breakout, of course. That came easily to her, as her hands moved from his back to his front and slowly undid the buttons of his shirt from bottom to top. She relished the touch of her hands to his smooth skin as she did so, resting them on either side of his face when she finished and his shirt hung open. Ambrose nipped at her collarbone and she shivered with delight, running her fingertips through his hair.
It hardly registered that he'd spoken until a few long moments had passed. "Oh yes, we're separate people," she whispered, because suddenly plain speech seemed far too loud. "And I am glad to be here. I'm very happy that whatever brought us both here, to this point in time, did so."
Because I need you right now as much as I ever needed my family, she added in her thoughts. Whatever she had initially felt about this man, it paled in comparison to what was happening now. Ysabel knew she should sleep on this, consider where it was going, approach it with some more sense and thought, but wild horses couldn't drag her away right now because it felt impossibly good and perfectly right to be here in Ambrose's room on his couch with his gentle hands tugging at her clothing and his warm lips making tiny fires on her skin.
With that in mind, she employed the tiniest bit of telekinesis, not really noticable, to aid him in slipping the pesky laces from their eyelets. Her hands moved from his face to push his shirt off his shoulders, fingernails scoring lightly over his neck as she did.
In retrospect she should be working on a distraction of her own, for her inevitable breakout, of course. That came easily to her, as her hands moved from his back to his front and slowly undid the buttons of his shirt from bottom to top. She relished the touch of her hands to his smooth skin as she did so, resting them on either side of his face when she finished and his shirt hung open. Ambrose nipped at her collarbone and she shivered with delight, running her fingertips through his hair.
It hardly registered that he'd spoken until a few long moments had passed. "Oh yes, we're separate people," she whispered, because suddenly plain speech seemed far too loud. "And I am glad to be here. I'm very happy that whatever brought us both here, to this point in time, did so."
Because I need you right now as much as I ever needed my family, she added in her thoughts. Whatever she had initially felt about this man, it paled in comparison to what was happening now. Ysabel knew she should sleep on this, consider where it was going, approach it with some more sense and thought, but wild horses couldn't drag her away right now because it felt impossibly good and perfectly right to be here in Ambrose's room on his couch with his gentle hands tugging at her clothing and his warm lips making tiny fires on her skin.
With that in mind, she employed the tiniest bit of telekinesis, not really noticable, to aid him in slipping the pesky laces from their eyelets. Her hands moved from his face to push his shirt off his shoulders, fingernails scoring lightly over his neck as she did.
Ambrose
18 years ago
When had she unbuttoned his shirt, not that it mattered; no, not at all it was a wonderful idea. Her fingers were delicate and soft and were quite adept in taking his mind off conversation.
He thought about letting her up, switching positions, but it would be difficult to do smoothly or subtly and besides she looked delicious laying there. Although who ever came up with these damned laces was going to die a slow and painful death, if they weren't dead already. Giving up all pretense of delicacy he gave them a few good solid jerks and they were loose.
Free of the laces it was a simple matter to guide the sleeves down over her shoulders, so he could caress the soft skin there. But the low neckline on her gown was currently the most interesting piece of her wardrobe. The previous explorations which had stopped at her collar bone continued down her chest, the soft curve of her breast until he was again halted by fabric.
God where did she get all these cloths, he'd seen three women together wear less. Ambrose was torn between being irritated with it and enjoying the challenge. With only slight hesitancy he inched the wide neck line down lower. Typically he wouldn't have been so subtle, but her cloths were out dated enough that it gave him pause, there was still a feeling that Ysabel herself might be old fashion, prim, proper. She was quickly dispelling that, but until he was totally convinced slow and steady won the race.
He thought about letting her up, switching positions, but it would be difficult to do smoothly or subtly and besides she looked delicious laying there. Although who ever came up with these damned laces was going to die a slow and painful death, if they weren't dead already. Giving up all pretense of delicacy he gave them a few good solid jerks and they were loose.
Free of the laces it was a simple matter to guide the sleeves down over her shoulders, so he could caress the soft skin there. But the low neckline on her gown was currently the most interesting piece of her wardrobe. The previous explorations which had stopped at her collar bone continued down her chest, the soft curve of her breast until he was again halted by fabric.
God where did she get all these cloths, he'd seen three women together wear less. Ambrose was torn between being irritated with it and enjoying the challenge. With only slight hesitancy he inched the wide neck line down lower. Typically he wouldn't have been so subtle, but her cloths were out dated enough that it gave him pause, there was still a feeling that Ysabel herself might be old fashion, prim, proper. She was quickly dispelling that, but until he was totally convinced slow and steady won the race.
Ysabel
18 years ago
Ysabel tried not to chuckle as Ambrose's frustration with her stays manifested itself in several good hard yanks. With a tiny noise of amusement she clung to him, barely suppressing her laughter.
Perhaps next time she would dress more appropriately. As it was, she was in a low-cut 17th century-style gown, a light blue chemise with an overdress of royal blue silk, the stays of course being the topmost layer.
With those out of the way, she relaxed back onto the couch and looked down at Ambrose with a heated expression. he was inching the top of her gown down, and she wondered at his pause. Not that she minded; the slow pace only heightened her anticipation. She had no idea where this was ultimately leading tonight, but Ysabel was enjoying it too much to worry.
She smoothed her hands over Ambrose's shoulders and pushed at his shirt some more, working it down his arms. The motions were threatening to make Ambrose's work a bit easier as there was no small amount of movement on her part. As cool air kissed her skin, however, she was growing more and more curious to feel his chest pressed to hers.
If he didn't do something about the fabric between them soon, including what was left of his, she was going to get very... antsy.
Perhaps next time she would dress more appropriately. As it was, she was in a low-cut 17th century-style gown, a light blue chemise with an overdress of royal blue silk, the stays of course being the topmost layer.
With those out of the way, she relaxed back onto the couch and looked down at Ambrose with a heated expression. he was inching the top of her gown down, and she wondered at his pause. Not that she minded; the slow pace only heightened her anticipation. She had no idea where this was ultimately leading tonight, but Ysabel was enjoying it too much to worry.
She smoothed her hands over Ambrose's shoulders and pushed at his shirt some more, working it down his arms. The motions were threatening to make Ambrose's work a bit easier as there was no small amount of movement on her part. As cool air kissed her skin, however, she was growing more and more curious to feel his chest pressed to hers.
If he didn't do something about the fabric between them soon, including what was left of his, she was going to get very... antsy.