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Original Sin - Cast in Stone

Ciro did not know what Alessandra was going to say, but he had a horrible idea that she was simply going to tell him that she was not going to be his muse. He didn't want to hear those words. He didn't want to hear she could not come to him at night anymore. He would have fought entire legions of hell to prevent the words coming out of her mouth. So he stopped the words, with his own mouth. He stepped forward and kissed her, deeply on the mouth. He pulled her by the wrists into his house and held her body against the door with his own and kissed her, repeatedly. Any time it appeared she was going to say anything he would cover her lips with his own.

He finally broke his lips from hers and waited for the inevitable slap.
 
Alessandra decided to get it over with. She had to just tell him the truth. But before the words were able to come out of her mouth, he had pressed his lips to hers to restrain them from speaking. She was completely taken back by this and had hardly expected this sort of behavior from him after what she had done. She felt herself being pulled into the residence. “I have-“ she was stopped. “to tell-“ and again. “-you something,” and again until she eventually just gave up. When he finally did break his lips from hers, Alessandra stared at him; his reaction had bewildered her. She was under the impression that he had not wanted this very thing to get in the way of his project and now here he was doing just that. She hoped this wasn't a plan to get her to agree to model for him, only to be let down once his work was completed.

Alessandra blinked a few times, finding she had been at a loss for words. Instead, she linked her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his again. "How am I supposed to trust you?" she asked between her quick kisses.
 
"I have always wanted you. I wanted to put my work ahead, because I thought it was the safe thing to do. I no longer want safe, I want to hold you and to never let go. I'd ask you to stay forever"

Ciro leaned forward and kissed Alessandra again, deeply, feeling her lips pressed against his own. She was soft against his hard frame, his body pressed against her. She was obviously of noble blood, someone who was destined for greater things. That just made Ciro want her even more. He began exploring her body with his hands. His fingers traced up the outsides of her thighs until he found the firm, roundness of her ass and pulled her hips towards him.

"Please tell me you will stay, that you won't leave me." Ciro half begged/half demanded.
 
Alessandra was careful not to make promises she knew she was unable to keep. Though she felt strong feelings for the man before her, her duty was not to him and she doubted her father would approve. Nonetheless, she let herself get carried away by the idea of him. Without hesitation, she kissed him back deeply, wrapping her arms around his tall frame. As his hands explored her, her breathing hitched for she had never been touched in such a way by a man. She felt her hips crash against him, and she almost melted into his arms.

When she was given a chance to breathe, her soft eyes reassured him that she wasn't leaving. "I will stay," she whispered against his lips before she guided him inside, closing the door behind her. It was far too risky to stay outside, especially since she had not hidden her identity with her cloak. In her rush to make it across town, she had completely forgotten to retrieve it before leaving the festivities.

Smiling, she ran a hand through his dark curly hair. "It was irresponsible of me to leave you. I did not want to jeopardize your project... Those were not my intentions."
 
A tear appeared in his eye when she said she would stay. Ciro was elated and relieved. He had been given a chance to redeem himself. A chance he would not dream of squandering. Ciro smiled. "I must confess the project was you, dearest. Without you, there was no project. You were the only one that would do. I could make a statue of anyone, but it was your beauty at the center of everything. If that statue has a soul, it is your beauty."

Ciro kissed her again and again.

"Thank you for staying." Ciro kissed her repeatedly. "Can you stay now, or must you return to your father's festival? I understand if you must go, but I am hoping that you do not."

Ciro looked around the workshop and noticed the place was a mess, everything was in disarray, except for his tools. Even drunk, Ciro's tools were always well maintained.
 
Alessandra noticed the joy her words had brought him, glad to have put him out of his misery. She imagined this had been the first time in the last few days that he had been thinking about anything else other than what he was going to do without her. Now that she had assured him that she wouldn't leave him again, he had to feel a huge weight lifted off of his shoulders.

"I certainly am not worthy of your kind words," she blushed deeply, hating the fact that he always seemed to have that effect on her. When he mentioned her father's party, she thought about returning. She was sure she could get away with being there a few hours, but she would have to leave before all the guests left. She was sure they had already noticed she was gone; it was only a matter of time before they sent someone out to find her.

She glanced around the workshop before her eyes found him again. "I suppose I can stay for an hour or so. Is that enough time to get some work done?"
 
Ciro nodded happily. "Bela, of course!"

Ciro smiled and looked to her, taking her by the hand to the sofa.

"Sorry for the state of the place. I..." Ciro decided not to finish the statement. He did not want her feeling guilty or badly for him. Everything had meaning again, so to tell her he was a broken man would only incite guilt. He wanted her happy.

Ciro motioned to the statue. Most of the forms had been done, but there were some obvious gaps. Anywhere between the shoulders and the hips was missing, as were the forearms and the finer details in the feet and hands.

"I was able to use the image of you in my head for some parts, but others were... not so familiar. Soon we will get to those parts, but for now, let's work on the arms. Please, stretch out like so." Ciro instructed her to stretch out as she had before. He began shaping the slender, shapely forearms into the stone. He etched some of the stone with his finest chisel to highlight some of the finer curves of the forearms and how they met with the upper arms. He etched in the wrists. From there he chipped away small pieces of stone in careful cylinders, until he had a rough approximate. Soon he would polish it down to a smooth, flowing arm.

The hour was up before he had a chance to work on the hands or any more intricate parts of the statue. He smiled to Alessandra. "Soon, bella, soon I will blessed with seeing your most intimate form. Will you be ready?" He didn't want to scare her, but he didn't want her leaving in fear either. He went to the sofa and kissed her brow. "You have made me so very happy Alessandra. You are the only one I want to sculpt. Your beauty is a great masterpiece and I am a clumsy fool who wishes to make a forgery. No matter how good I am with stone, the one who made you is the true artist."
 
Alessandra smiled softly as he lead her to her usual spot on the sofa. At his mentioning of the studio, she took a few small glances around her, taking in the chaos that had wreaked through the place. She was immediately reminded of the drunken stupor he was most likely in, and she realized that this had nearly all been her fault. If only she had just maintained her composure, if only she had not been so forward.

Her eyes then gazed over at the statue. It had certainly taken more form than it had when she had left. Though they were not exact, she could see more of the outline of her body at what she could guess were his somewhat vague predictions of her shape. She noticed a few gaps in his work, which she assumed he could come back to later. And though it did not resemble her yet, she knew there were plenty of fine details he had left to finish.

Taking a deep breath, she did as he asked, extending her arm to him so he may begin his work with the short amount of time she had allotted. She sat there quietly as he worked. After several minutes, she felt an ache in her shoulder from having had her arm extended for long periods of time. She felt her arm slowly gravitate down, but reminded herself that it wouldn't be much longer. Instead she would raise it a little higher, enduring the discomfort so he could work thoroughly for the entire hour. When the hour had passed, she lowered her hand to her lap, watching as he strode over to her.

"I will be ready," she said more to herself than to him. The idea still made her nervous, but his words seemed to reassure her.

She blushed deeply at his words, averting her eyes to the stitching in her gown before meeting his gaze. "I am made from the same artist, from the hands of the same God as any other woman in Naples. That is not to discredit my God, but only to show you that I am no more special than the next woman. You on the other hand, are gifted in that you are able to capture my essence and carve it into this stone..." she paused for a moment before speaking again. "Ciro, I must say that I am... nervous. I have never done anything like this before," she whispered.
 
"Ah, that is fair. Most people are nervous. Everyone is nervous. A child is nervous when they first meet a new adult, a groom is nervous when he marries his wife and a sailor is nervous when they head out to sea. It is natural to be nervous. As for my gift, my gift is dependent on what I see in my mind's eye. I saw you, you are the inspiration. If my gift is my hands, yours is your eyes and the beauty inside you. We all are given gifts. While I know you should be nervous, it is unnecessary. Your beauty will not diminish with your clothes, it will shine forth like a shade taken off of a lantern." Ciro smiled.

Ciro had the rough form and asked Alessandra to return to a comfortable posture on the sofa. He began the delicate tapping of smaller pieces of stone from the statue. Her musculature coming to life in small slivers of white marble. Ciro chipped away seeing daylight fade away on the wall through the high window above the door. His hour was long up and he had to let her get back. Part of him had great remorse, worried she might reconsider again. He had to trust in Alessandra and in God.

"Bella, I have worked far past an hour. While I would love to keep you here until we are old and we are called to be with God, what do you say? You said an hour and I have wasted more than that. Shall I walk you part of the way back, or shall we continue?"
 
His reasoning seemed perfectly logical, but it still hadn't allowed her to get over her fear. Alessandra sighed softly, wanting to just let go of all of her concerns. She sat there again for another few moments as he continued working away, making use of the short amount of time she had for the evening. She wondered if anyone has noticed she had been missing, or if they had even started looking for her. When Ciro spoke again, her troubled eyes met his. If she was going to tell him, she knew this would be the ideal moment to do so.

"Ciro, there is something I must say... I have been placed on this pedestal, and I fear that once you see me for what I truly am, you will no longer see me as an adequate source for inspiration. I know it is rather silly, but Eve knew no such thing of insecurities or self doubt because there was no other woman whom she could have been compared to. Before her tragic fall, her loss of innocence, she was the ideal perfect woman--I, on the other hand, must stand before you... an artist who has seen perfection in many forms, only to be judged for what I am not. I am no model, nor have I ever stood before a man stripped of the clothing that gives me confidence. Yes, we are all equals when we are stripped of our material possessions, but from these two individuals we have evolved into a society that does not represent the nature of what I believe God intended us to be.... Without this gown, I am the same as any other woman. I am not the daughter of a nobleman, a senator or anything else that gives me a prestigious title--I am nothing more than the daughter of Eve. What I am trying to convey to you is that it would be preposterous of me to embody this persona of which I bear no resemblance to the epitome, to the core of her very existence."

Alessandra hoped he would understand that she was her own contradiction to this idea that he had envisioned for her. She knew her words had been a handful, but she wanted to be clear and completely honest with him.
 
Ciro nodded, but did not fully understand. He did not want to say that she WAS Eve, but merely a representation of Eve. While she did not believe that she was a fair comparison, Ciro did not know what Eve looked like - nor did anyone else except for Adam and their children. It was artistic license, something that the greatest of artists used. Michelangelo's works, Da Vinci, and Bellini - all of them used their own interpretations. How else would someone make something Divine into something human?

"My dear, while you do not embody THE soul of Eve, you are the embodiment of Eve in the eye of the artist. In my eyes, you are the one whose face makes me think of Eve. I want to capture you in the way that you capture my heart. It may be foolish to believe to compare you to Eve, but it is not foolish to compare you to my own ideal of Eve. It is not Eve that I am capturing, it is you - I cannot capture Eve herself. As for what God intended, who are we to say what his intentions are? We are only human and will be instructed of his intentions when we are called to his side."

Ciro smiled, she was obviously a smart woman, and she had a philosophy that was beyond most women - in all likelihood she had been educated on some level. Most women couldn't even read. Ciro knew why her eyes were so sharp, the mind behind them was even sharper.
 
"Well, I do not think I am an appropriate representation," she whispered timidly. "Like I said, I am very nervous and I do not want to disappoint you..." Alessandra fell quiet for a moment, not wanting to speak so much. Her father had always advised against it, but she always managed to say more than she intended to.

"God did not intend us to live in a society where your income dictates whether you are better than the next person. Of that I am sure," she replied, feeling a bit frustrated. She was aware it was part of the reason she could not be seen in his studio. She was tired of lying and having to evade her family just to be there with him. "I am tired of fabricating these stories to my family as to why I go to bed early or sleep until midday, and right now I'm going to have to tell them why I disappeared from my father's festivities... Life is not fair," she finally concluded, sighing heavily.

And though it pained her to leave, she knew that the guest would be wondering where she had gone to. Alessandra rose from the sofa, tilting her head slightly to gaze upon him. "Tell me something, Ciro and forgive me if I am being forward... But if the circumstances were different, if I wasn't who I am... would you ever court a woman like me?"
 
Ciro was not concerned. He was confident that Alessandra was the right woman, and he was not going to change his mind. "Bella, you could never disappoint me by being my muse. By being here you could never disappoint, the disappointment comes when you leave. As for courting you, I had no idea who you were when I introduced myself. I would wish to court you no matter the circumstances."

Ciro sighed, wanting for a way to better explain himself. Stone was his craft, not words. Words were for poets and playwrights.
 
His words were beyond reassuring to her and even gave her a small flutter in the pit of her stomach. She bit down on her lip, blushing slightly before meeting his gaze. Nervously, she brushed her long locks to one side, twirling her fingers between the strands.

"With all due respect my wonderful, talented artiste..." she started, rising from her seat. "-my father would murder you before you ever could," she said playfully, a small smirk dancing on her lips. Her smirk turned into a smile and she boldly leaned over and kissed him gently. She placed a warm, delicate hand on his cheek, peering deeply into his eyes before placing another one on his forehead. "Will you take me back?" she whispered, softly caressing his cheek.
 
"My bella, though it pains me to think we must part again so soon, I would be happy to escort you in the direction of your home."

He did not want to leave and he especially did not want Alessandra to leave - but what choice did he have? He gathered up a cloak of his own so at least no-one would recognize him if she were dressed in her finery. He kissed Alessandra deeply, several times before making an honest effort to walk through the door. He pressed her against the double-hardwood doors and kissed her one last time, his hips pressed into hers. He could feel his manhood starting to swell at the pressure of her body against his and decided it was time to go before he made a fool of himself.

Ciro walked with Alessandra to the point they had left each other those few times in the past and whispered in her ear "though I dare not kiss you publicly, I cannot wait for the opportunity to kiss you again in private. Consider this a promise of more kisses to come." Ciro winked to Alessandra and ran down the alley to his home, skipping over doorways and rocks playfully as he made his way to his workshop to clean it - and himself.
 
Alessandra watched as he gathered his cloak, remembering she had left her father’s festivities without one. Though she was without her disguise, she figured as long as one of them was covered suspicion would not be raised. They would see the pair and assume nothing more than a woman being escorted to the event with her caretaker or perhaps even a family attendant. Clearly they would not conclude he was an artist and she, the daughter of a senator, engaged in the most sinful of acts, meeting so intimately at all hours of the night and out of wedlock. Before she could give herself the opportunity to explore the idea any further, her lips had met his and she felt herself being guided backwards, step by step, until her back was against the double doors of his studio. His body was pressed against hers and she swore she could feel his manhood, though her virgin eyes had never known what this intimate part would look like, let alone feel like.

The truth was that she didn’t want to leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it to him; the fear of her father discovering her whereabouts overpowered her will to speak. And as disappointing as it was to part from his side, she forced herself to walk towards the direction of her residence until they reached the alley they had on so many occasions parted from each other. It was at that point, at that moment she felt his whisper at her ear. Her heart skipped a beat and her stomach fluttered as she processed his bold words. She could have melted into his arm had he not left her there to ponder his words, longing for him to return to her so she could have the opportunity to do so. She asked herself why she had let him leave, or why she had left his studio in the first place, but the music and the brightly lit chateau that rested a top of the hill served as a crude reminder.

As she had expected, her sisters had been looking for her at the request of her father. They hadn’t questioned her whereabouts as much as she thought they would have, but she did give them an excuse to hush them at least for now. The rest of her evening she carried on, meandering through the crowd and greeting her father’s guests like she had been expected to. The man her father had wanted her to meet sought her out and she was forced to share a quiet conversation where she learned he was educated in Rome and aspired to enter the world of politics. She wondered if this was why her father had taken a liking to him, or if even this was the man’s excuse to get close to her. Regardless of the fact, she came to the realization that he, most likely, was her future. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that her father would approve of his courtship and that this man, whom she learned was named Lorenzo Malatessa, would someday be her betrothed. The thought made her ill; it made her uncomfortable to even consider giving herself to anyone else other than the man she had started to develop deep sentiments towards.

Alessandra excused herself soon after and made her way to her chambers where she told her caretaker that she had suddenly felt ill. "I am not to be disturbed, I need to rest..." she said sternly. The woman nodded to her and slowly closed the door behind her. Nearly an hour later she found herself at Ciro's studio once more. Her small hands knocked on his door, repeatedly and without hesitation until finally the door opened.
 
Ciro welcomed her into the studio and walked her to her place on the cushions. He kissed her before taking her by the hand and sitting down with the customary wine and fruit were there. This time figs, cherries, peaches and apricots were the fare. Ciro spoke happily of how fortunate they began work in the summer. When the cherries and peaches were no longer available pears, apples and melons would be well on their way. He split a few peaches into quarters along with some apricots and offered them to Alessandra. He poured Alessandra a glass of wine and smiled to her.

Today she was going to have to disrobe for him, but there was an initial awkwardness. Ciro's desire to see her unveiled was almost all consuming, making it difficult to ask. He flitted about the stone taking care of the arms and hands. Everything was shaped, the face, arms, lower legs, feet, hands and even the way he wanted Eve's hair to sit on her shoulders and down her back. Everything else needed more to be revealed.

Ciro sat facing Alessandra, contemplating on how to ask. He poured her another glass of the strong red wine and poured another for himself. He rarely drank while he worked, but in this situation he was willing to make an exception. The room was warm, almost too warm for Ciro. He wanted Alessandra to be comfortable though, so he ensured that the fireplace did not go dark. He drained his wine in a single, long swallow and sighed.

"Well, my muse - my inspiration. It is time that I ask what needs to be done. If you would be so kind as to disrobe?" Ciro managed to say, impressed with how calm he was. He had never been alone with a woman who was going to undress for him before. He'd certainly seen the human form, but he had never seen it on such a private basis. There was something intimate about her sharing herself just with him. Like he was being let in on one of the greatest secrets of life. "If you would like, I will turn my back and you can tell me when you are ready. Please, bella, take your time."
 
Alessandra could not wait to be in his presence and had found that her impatience had gotten the best of her. She nearly blushed when he opened the door, but he mustn’t have noticed because he immediately took her to her place on the cushions where he of course had a excess of fruit and other delicacies waiting for her. Her gaze fell on him as he offered her the peaches and other fruit he had cut, but she paid them little mind. Instead, she reached for the glass of wine, staining her lips with the deep red contents in hopes that it may calm her nerves. When he spoke, she returned a natural, calm smile due in part by the wine. The small chatter had helped ease her anxiety. At one point in their conversation, her gaze drifted over to the unfinished sculpture and it was clear to her that she would soon have to present herself to him, as promised, in her nude form fairly soon.

Alessandra had been mentally preparing herself for the day when he was to ask this of her, or say remind her of the promise she had made. And when that moment finally came, she would oblige like she had practiced several times in front of her mirror in the confines of her bedroom. Slowly she would undress before him, revealing to him every curve, every groove of her young feminine figure; she would expose to his eyes every bit of her virgin flesh, letting him feast upon the sight of her like no man had done before. In this way she would give herself to him while still maintaining what was important to father and more importantly, to Lorenzo Malatessa. If she could not give herself to her lover in the way God had intended Eve to give herself to Adam, then she would at least give him this.


“N-Now?” Alessandra swallowed, hardly expecting these words to have come so suddenly; certainly she did not expect them so soon as that very night. She wondered why they couldn’t speak more of the fruit or the warm weather that had come over Naples now that they were nearing the end of summer. Of course he means now… she thought to herself, cursing herself for having spoken already. She gave him a small nod, gnawing on her bottom lip nervously as he turned his back to her. She took those brief moments to consume the rest of the wine she had in her glass before the soft fabric of her dress swished as she rose to her feet. Her small hands trembled as she reached to her backside, realizing that the buttons would be impossible to undo on her own.

“You, Ciro, spoil me with fruit most of which I do not eat…and wine. I see you try to accommodate me beyond your means allow, and I say that with all due respect…but the only thing I ask of my love is to keep his word and you have yet to do so,” she said playfully, her hand now dropping to her side. “If I do remember correctly, did you not promise me more kisses to come?” Alessandra resisted the urge to laugh, but she did find that this new playfulness subsided her nerves. “You see, I very much fancied the idea of your kisses on my neck, but…these buttons, I’m afraid, are impeding this from happening,” she finished, glancing over her shoulder to him and averting her eyes down from his to down the line of buttons that adorned her dress.
 
Ciro's hands reached for the buttons, but his fingers instead traced their way up the front of Alessandra's chest and clasped together below her breasts. Her gentle body in his rough hands, she felt delicate and smooth like the finest asian pottery. He lowered his face and pressed his lips against her neck softly. A soft sigh escaped him when he drew his lips from her to catch his breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he could feel the heat in the room increasing.

His fingers traced their way back to the back of Alessandra's dress and found the first of the eight buttons on the back of her dress. The first button was the easiest. The fabric and reinforcing thread around the first buttonhole was softer and more worn than the others. It came undone easily, since not all the buttons would need to be undone for the dress to come off. The second was tougher. His strong hands were certainly up to the task, but he feared stretching or tearing the fine fabric. Something he wanted to avoid so as to prevent Alessandra from having to answer questions she did not want asked.

Between the second and third button he paused again. The top of her back was open and accessible. A new, special patch of skin was revealed to him. He suddenly grasped that all of Alessandra was going to be revealed to him. He kissed the patch of flesh that had been revealed by the opening of the dress. He sighed again, aware of his own nervous energy.

He traced the soft fabric to the 3rd button, sliding it through the stitched slit and moved onto the fourth and fifth buttons. More of her skin was visible for him to see, and her shoulder blades and collarbone were now completely bare. He kissed on the tops of Alessandra's shoulders, each kiss pressed against her skin for a few seconds then moving across to the other side, exploring her upper back and her shoulders with his lips.

His fingers found the 6th and 7th button and they came undone with little resistance. She was right there in front of him but she seemed even closer now, everything became non-existent in the world. All there was was Alessandra's bare skin, the dress and the 8th button. His hands paused to feel the skin of her back, tracing his fingers along the fine definition of her shoulder blades and back. He traces up and down and blew a cool breath onto her back as he finally undid the 8th and final button. Undoing the 8th button seemed unnecessary, but the sensation of undoing each button was somehow hypnotic and exciting.

He put away all of the mental images he had of her naked form. He wanted to see her for the first time, as she really was. He used his fingertips to push the dress over the sides of her shoulders. Her hips and breasts caught the dress in such a way that it did not fall immediately to the floor, but hung to the beautiful curves of her body as though to torture him one more time before the revealing of her body to him. He kissed her neck again, underneath her right hear, breathing softly onto the skin. "Please, my darling, when you are ready... turn around." He kissed her one last time on the nape of her neck and stood back to watch her and to take in the experience of seeing her unclothed before him for the first time.
 
Alessandra could feel his hands exploring the fabric of her satin gown, both gentle and delicate as they began to undo the buttons that encased her natural form. The first was fast to be undone, but the rest felt as though they were taking an eternity to be unfastened. For those brief moments she was almost thankful. The small delay was enough to calm some of the anxiety the ordeal had brought upon her, though it was starting to become clearer to her that facing him completely stripped of her clothing would be inevitable and that at some point she would have to overcome this fear. She wondered if he was as nervous as she was; she could hear her heart beating violently in her ears, the thuds increasing in ferocity as her dress became looser over her. Her breaths were deep and soft as she felt his lips against the newly revealed flesh that was being exposed to him, and her eyes drifted closed as she savored the moment. All of her senses were heightened, and she could feel the small hairs on the back of her spine stand as he ran his fingers along her form. Then finally, as the last button was undone, his fingers pushed the dress off of his shoulders.

In that instant, a blush came over her cheeks, her neck and she bit down on her lip as she felt the skin there become increasingly warm. The coolness of his breath, brushing against her neck alleviated some of this discomfort, sending another shudder down her spine. She gave him a small nod of understanding, though it was more for the sake of reassuring herself that only when she was ready would she turn around. Delicately, she pulled her long raven hair to one side, brushing all the strands with it. She hadn’t known why she had done this. Perhaps it was to cause a delay, to allot more time before she had to face the God forsaken moment she had been dreading since he had originally asked her to serve as his muse. She was no model; she reminded herself every time she had stepped into his studio, and yet, he insisted that this had not mattered. It had been her natural beauty that had caught his eye, her innocence and maybe even her own sense of naivety.

At that very moment she wished she was one of those wenches, one with experience in this art, in lending their bodies without shame for the sake of humanity. Why couldn’t that be her? If given the chance she would trade her life of privilege, her collection of fine dresses and the endless parties that always seemed to harbor the same guests. She would trade it all for the ability to stand before him without a single feeling of shame or though her actions were in any way sinful, and all because of whom she was. It did not matter to her if she was doing this for the church or for God for that matter because she was still committing a thousand sins along with her purpose. Her soul was eternally damned, she could feel it, and not even God could save her from what she was about to do be no man should ever see a woman in this form out of wedlock, not even her betrothed; she might as well commit the unspeakable sin because if anyone discovered her there, they would naturally come to the conclusion that she already had.

For the long minute she stood there, she thought about saving herself; there was still time. She could easily gather herself into her dress and run, never to see him again for as long as she lived. She could save her soul from hell and continue to be the good devout Catholic her parents raised her to be, the girl of nobility and grace that deemed worthy in any suitor’s eyes. The opportunity was still there, though she knew she wouldn’t have much time. After she paused for several long moments, Alessandra came to the simple conclusion as to why she had agreed to go through with his request—because she, above all else, loved him and if this was the only connection she would ever have to him, then her soul was worth sacrificing.

Alessandra exhaled a shaky breath, her small hands trembling at her sides and her heart, beating faster than ever, thudding away at her chest. These thoughts were all the encouragement she had needed and as she had promised herself, when she was ready, she pivoted her foot so she was now standing before him in her bare, natural form.

 
 
Ciro inhaled deeply as Alessandra turned herself to him, revealing her unclothed form. He looked into her eyes and saw she was nervous, he was nervous too. She was only two strides away, but it felt like a mile and an inch at the same time. He lowered his gaze slowly down from her eyes to her feet drawing in the curves of her body and her beautiful olive skin. "My God, Alessandra, you are beautiful." Ciro said, barely above a whisper. The air between the two of them became electric and he could feel her with every nerve in his body.

He stepped forward and looked her in the eye, he wanted her to know she was beautiful. She was beyond beautiful, she was peerless. It had to be Alessandra, to think otherwise would be a lie to himself and to her. He drew in her face and saw the blush on her cheeks. He could feel her and the heat of the room, like they were together on the sun. His hand reached out and stroked her cheek, feeling the smooth skin of her face against his hardened hands.

He stepped forward again and puller her naked frame against his body. He could feel her breathing as her chest heaved against his own. He could feel her skin against his own and he could smell her. Oh, how she smelled, like the most beautiful morning blossoms on the cool breeze just after the dawn. He allowed himself to linger, smelling her hair for a moment before kissing her deeply. He pressed his lips against hers and made good on his promise to give her more kisses.

He could not resist the urge to run his fingertips over her naked body. His hands stroking her bare back and sides. Her skin was as soft as buttermilk and smooth as polished marble. He kissed her neck and shoulder, sighing against her and breathing down her back. She was the embodiment of the most perfect woman in the history of the bible, and she was his alone to share with the world. Part of him coveted her, wanting her and her form for himself, but that was not why she was here. She was here to inspire, and Ciro was inspired. He was inspired to do many things with Alessandra. His manhood began to throb with one of the ideas he had for her. He kissed her again and looked into her eyes. "You are truly beautiful. You inspire me to do great things, just in your name and in Gods who allows me such a grace as to see you before me."
 
Her piercing eyes stared into the puddle that was her dress at her ankles, not daring to gaze up at him. The flush in her cheeks, she was sure, must have expressed her deepest sentiments. She could feel his eyes exploring every curve in her body, taking in the sight of her from the strands of hair on her head all the way to her barely visible feet. She swallowed hard at his words and though she was appreciative of his message, she would have preferred if he had not spoken at all. His words did nothing but make her more anxious, which was only heightened when he took a step in her direction.

For a brief moment, she was able to meet his eyes with her own, but she did not hold them there for long, preferring instead to gaze down at her hands. The moment his hand grazed her cheek, she shuddered and she swore he could feel the shivers his touch had caused. His hand was gentle and had a comforting appeal to them; they were the hands that would eventually bring the unfinished marble stone to life with her image.
 
When he stepped forward again, this time to pull himself against her, part of her felt the urge to step away, to regain anything that was left of her dignity—even if the damage was already done. Instead she embraced him fully, wrapping her arms around his strong, hard figure. Her delicate frame could have melted into his arms the instant he kissed her deeply, and she returned their shared kiss with the same passion he was pouring unto her. Her hands ran up the airy material of his shirt, clinging to fabric beneath her fingertips as she felt a desperate need to be closer to him. Their lips soon parted from each other, much to her disappointment, but she was relieved to find he had taken to kissing her neck and shoulders. Her hands moved to cup his face, holding his cheeks in them as he moved to kiss her.

"There is no need for your words of praise when my heart already belongs to you, my love. Save your breath and your energy so you may give me more of these sinful kisses I long for," she whispered, silencing his words as she pressed her index fingers to his lips. Words were unnecessary when he could easily show her how she inspired him in the form of his finished product. Then she would see what his words spoke, and only then she would come to the realization that everything she had done had been worthwhile. Peering up into his eyes, she scanned them momentarily before she pressed her lips to his once more, giving him a series of quick kisses against the fullness of his lips. He was perfect to her, in every sense of the word. She had never known another man in this form, nor did she feel the need to after having met the artist before her.  
 
Ciro tried his best to fight the urge to touch Alessandra, touch her in a way that he had never touched a woman before. His mind and body fought with each other, but his body was the stronger of the two. He ran his hands down her back and grasped her backside in his hands, feeling the soft, unexposed flesh in his strong hands. He lifted the flesh, feeling the softness and the smoothness of it as it slid past the tips of his fingers. Ciro slid his hands over her back and up to the back of her neck, holding her naked frame against his own.

Ciro was beginning to perspire from the heat of the room. He was boiling and the heat from Alessandra's body was causing him to sweat, both from the warmth and from nervousness. He removed the leather vest he had been wearing and undid the buttons of his shirt. The air against his skin was immediately relieving and soothing. He wanted to pull off his shirt, but did not want to make Alessandra worry about his intentions or make her any more nervous.

He pulled her naked skin against his own and sighed softly as her body pressed against his. He could feel the softness of her flesh, an alien experience of feeling the naked flesh of a woman. He could feel his mind beginning to swim and his knees shaking slightly. He whispered softly in his ear "I never imagined when I saw you that I would feel your skin against my own. My heart is pounding and I feel as though I may die from the excitement of your flesh against my own."

He kissed her again, and again, and again. His lips pressed against hers, brushing them together playfully. He could feel her breath as she exhaled, breathing it in to his own lungs. All he could smell was the delicate soft scent of her skin and hair. All he could feel was her. All he could see, when he opened his eyes, was the clear sapphire eyes of Alessandra.
 
His touch stirred feelings inside of her, bringing more warmth to her olive skin. This feeling brought on an excitement within her given in part by her inability to calculate the slightest of his movements. This new unpredictability was contradictory to the mundane life she had been living before ever meeting this man. And with every passing breath, the naïve girl before him was becoming more and more willing to explore what her innocent eyes had never witnessed and whatever urges her body was telling her to give into.

She too could feel the heat radiating from their bodies as she watched him remove his vest and then as he unfastened the buttons on his shirt. For those brief moments apart, the intensity of the heat seemed to subside slightly causing her to fold her arms across her chest in a timid fashion in mild protest of his absence. Cautiously and feeling as though she was being inappropriate in doing so, she let her gaze fall over the bit of skin he had revealed to her. This neither made her feel calm nor did it make her feel more nervous than she already was. It confirmed to her that his intentions were in no way malicious nor would he try to take advantage of the fact that she stood before him nude and defenseless. Many men among Naples would take the opportunity if they could for political or whatever reason to tarnish the reputation of a nobleman by deflowering his daring and scandalous daughter. Ciro, however, was not one of these men.

When she was pulled into him, a sense of fulfillment came over her. His body, strong and hard, greatly contrasted her supple and fragile form. His skin was intoxicating, from his scent to the subtle glow of his perspiration. It was surreal to her that two people could have such an effect on each other and that the passion they shared that to the rest of society deemed unforgivable, could in fact in her eyes be more beautiful than all of creation itself. She would never feel this way again, not towards another man. She knew exactly how he felt for she too felt the same way.

"I too feel as though I could die from this excitement. I...I fear that you are the only man that can have this effect over me and I don't know how I will live the rest of my life without feeling this way again, without feeling so...alive. If I will not know such a feeling again, then I'm afraid there is no purpose for life itself." Alessandra inhaled a shaky breath, tearing her gaze from him upon finishing her rant. She hadn't the slightest clue how he would live without him, or for that matter, living with this suitor her father had given her when she knew he would never make her feel the way Ciro did.
 
Ciro gave up the temptation to resist her, but he also knew where his boundaries lay. He held her nude body against his naked torso and kissed her over and over. His hands roaming her naked back, his fingers threatening to touch parts of her body that were forbidden to him - but never quite coming into contact with them. He wanted to touch her, so much so that it almost physically made him ill. He respected Alessandra, even more than he respected the art that called her to him.

He sat her down on the sofa and poured her another glass of wine as well as one for himself. He needed it, or he was going to find himself getting them both in a situation that had very serious consequences. He did not want to jeopardize his art, nor his love. He kissed Alessandra and offered her the glass of wine and some fresh fruit. He asked her to simply sit and get comfortable. She was nervous about being naked before him, and he wanted her to appear naturally before. Once she was comfortable being nude in front of him, then he could get her to model.

"I want you to know something, Alessandra, before I begin my work. I want this to be the best piece of work I ever do for three people. Firstly, for my patron who will provide me with enough money to ensure I can be successful afterwards. Second is for God, as he made the first woman and I am a lowly sinner who seeks to copy the works of his master. The third is for you, because I love you Alessandra. And while I named you last, you are now first in my heart." Ciro kissed Alessandra again. He was not going to get any work done on the statue tonight, but he was going to make sure that Alessandra was comfortable with being with him.
 
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