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"Mmmm, I guess that is one way to go about it," Ali smirked, looking at the remains of the vivid liguid before placing it back down on the table, the ice clanking against the walls of the glass. Her actions were practiced to perfection, allowing her to move as needed in a tiny dress that barely covered her ass and yet was all elegance, highlighting her beauty. Standing before the Italian, she took him in for the first time, all of him. He was a mess - a hot one for sure that involuntarily pricked at her pride - with his disheveled look and the scent of colone and sweat giving him a rather risque appearance. His face was perfectly chissled with a playboy glint that made her drunk mind wonder if she could still get the same response from him if she were to kiss him. The second the thought crossed her mind, memories flooded her brain - the dark night, her silk nightshift sliding to the floor, his hands caressing her body, then his lips and then....

Shaking her head, she tilted her head. "People change, don't you think Capitani? Grow up? I," she licked her lips before they curled up into a seductive smile, her eyes flicking to his for a second. "I needed to stop thinking for a night." Yes, she wanted to forget her worries, her past, her loneliness. Coming home was amazing - her mother was certainly happy and even her father was proud of her in his own, distant way. She knew what she wanted to do in the next few years of her life and she had a goal and....she no longer had John. She ade a mess with Emil before she left and now she had to deal with Charles Whittemore whom she barely knew. So yes, thinking was not on the agenda for the night. Hot, passionate sex might have been if not....

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

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Ali raised an eyebrow seductively at his question. Fine, her request was a little out of character, especially considering the man before her hadn't seen her in nearly a decade. He certainly ended her innocence when he left for Italy, ignoring the collateral damage he left behind known as one heart of Alice Winter, shattered to pieces and scattered to the wind. She certainly was too sober for these memories especially tonight but certain other ones forced her to bite her lip, eyes darkening with nostalgic lust.

She had been seventeen and she was in love - some might have assumed they both were. They were best friends as well which only made them closer. That night, she had snuck into his hotel room, unable to catch her breath as she stood at 1am before his door in silk lingerie covered only by his oversized sweater - the same one she had borrowed just hours earlier. They had flirted shamelessly the whole evening before, the ice seeming to finally thaw between them after a week of awkwardness. The reason was silly to say the least - she had been forced to attend with Alaric, leaving Emil to entertain one of the snobby girls in her acquaintance. She had never felt so jealous, seeing him entertaining every other debutante but her.

His eyes grew large when he saw her, taking in the long bare legs and her loose hair, letting her in. Almost immediately, his mouth was on hers, both of them more than hungry for one another. Emil was skilled - really skilled - and it made Ali proud and eager to learn, smiling when he managed to elicit an involuntary moan from her simply with his kisses. She raised her arms and the sweater fell, revealing the skimpy, elegant blue garment and lace underwear. Emil backed away and for a second, she was afraid he was going to laugh at her, reject her, send her away. But he took her in, inch by inch before meeting her eyes, a certain wilderness and excitement in his gaze. And a question, the same one - Who are you and what have you done with Ali?

”Maybe you should stop asking me that question - it got us in trouble last time,” Ali smirked, allowing her eyes to trace the edge of his shirt and his open skin. If they ignored the bad, maybe a hot sweaty night was still on the table. And rumour, as well as her memory, always had it that Emilio Capitani knew how to make anyone forget anything in bed. Or any creative surface, if she really wanted to be wild. Would it be so bad to play pretend and imagine that they were back to being Emil and Ali, constantly pushing John's tolerance. The mention of Alaric pulled her back into the present and she made a face.

”Ugh, unfortunately. I…it….Doesn't matter, does it? He doesn't care what I do,” she scoffed. ”Or who I spend my time with. Too busy kissing up to politicians or staring in the mirror, that one.” With anyone else, Ali would have at least tried to pretend that there was mutual respect and friendship in her engagement. Perhaps there had been at one point, perhaps there may have been if her fiance cared about her at all instead of visiting her twice a year primarily to keep up appearances. Thankfully, the official excuse was common enough in the equestrian world that no one ever raised an eyebrow. Now that she was back, that was another chore she would need to undertake and there was absolutely no way out of it.

Ali let out a small gasp as Emil slid his arm around her waist, a shiver running down her spine as his warm breath brushed her ear. Fuck, he was good. Or rather, he got better. The predator inside her extended its claws, stretching and purring under his touch, pleased to have found a worthy opponent. Typical - the man she had been dreading to see would make her play the whanton she wanted to be tonight. Could nothing in her life be as simple as a one night stand with a pleasant kid who she'd never see again? A purely business transaction, no strings, no past, no complication or feelings or….She was getting ahead of herself, already picturing the after party of the night. All he offered was a dance.

”I thought you'd never ask,” she didn't bother hiding the sultry tone as she pressed up against him. He certainly matured since they last met, his shoulders broadening and solidifying. He finally grew into his height, no longer the slightly lanky young man she loved but a true Apollo clone walking among mortal men. She let him lead her, as one hand easily slid behind his neck, fingers idolly playing with his hair at his nape. He smelled like a combination of his signature cologne, alcohol and sweat. On anyone else, it would have been a cheap, a reak of a night out but on Emil, it was the scent of adventure, excitement, classy debauchery. She couldn't stop herself from leaning closer to the base of his neck, closing her eyes as she simply allowed herself to feel the music, enjoy the warmth of his body against hers, listen to his rugged breathing that somehow held her under a spell.

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

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Ali's lips parted in a soft ‘oh’ that seemed to be a perfect mix of surprise and desire the second she felt Emil's lips near her skin, his warm breath sending shivers down her body. That brought her to be pressed flush against the Italian's chiseled frame, the small dress she chose that night seemingly hiding none of her body as his hands moved to hold her close. Not that she protested, her body relaxing into the touch and seemingly to melt into his own on the dance floor. The music pounded around them, nothing close to her usual choices but she couldn't care less, her senses heightened by the man skillfully eliciting all the right responses from her with ease.

What a virtuoso, Ali couldn't help smirking as the song changed and his grip became more possessive. She bit her lip as he drove his hips into her, her head tilting back against his chest as her arm snaked behind his neck, anchoring herself and making sure she remained upright as her legs threatened to give up. As he moved against her, she nearly moaned, her heart racing in excitement and raw, untapped need. Her body needed him and needed him badly, regardless how much her brain signaled that it was not a good idea. Tonight, however, was not about good ideas, Ali retorted as she arched her back before twisting in his arms.

Her eyes looked up into his, cheeks flushed and her breath slightly erratic. For a moment, she was seventeen again, ready for him to do whatever he wanted, wanting for him to ravage her body and claim her as his. Licking her lips, her eyes darted to his mouth before moving back up to catch his gaze. A confident smirk of a winner spread over her features before her hand grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss, her eyes closing the second their lips connected. Ali didn't bother to pace herself, throwing the full force of her seduction and passion at Emil, his lips caressing his before she ran her tongue over them, nipping the bottom lip playfully, finally pulling away. Not waiting for his response, her lips found his neck, Ali kissing and nipping at the soft skin, her breathe coming out in a sigh of pleasure.

Even as people mulled around them and music echoed across the club, all she could focus on was the man before her, his smell intoxicating and his hands seeming to know exactly how to hold her. As he found a bare part of her skin, she leaned further into him, her grip tightening on the front of his shirt and her hips pushing up against his, only the faint barrier of their clothes between their two bodies. The afterparty her mind had briefly pictured in her moment of weakness was most certainly going to happen, if Emil's body was any indication of the man's current state. Nearly purring with excitement, Ali tilted her chin up for another kiss.

Made by Time Lapse of Adoxgraphy.

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