I know, Its been a while. I have an excuse, though!

I played prototype. Alex Mercer consumed my muse, and then ran off up a building with it.

I got it back though, a review today served as a much needed kick in the pants to get this story down from the dusty "work in progress" shelf.

My other excuse, my novel, has also been taking off in my head. Don't you just love it when the ideas just flow, mind to hands to screen (or paper)?

Anyway, this chapter deserves its rating. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own assassins creed. Hence the FANFICTION website. I do own my OCs.

Chapter 4

Ezio smiled at her and winked. "My, but you are the loveliest of the city's defenders. If all guards looked as you do, more men would turn to crime."

Violia flushed scarlet, snatching up a towel and wrapping it about herself, pondering the quirk of human instinct that causes us to feel safer when clothed. A thin towel would do nothing to stop a blade, but she knew that if she were wearing it, she could deal with this situation rationally. Her eyes darted to the box containing her dagger, and the chest beneath her bed that concealed her sword, though her sight never strayed from the threat for more than an instant. She knew she could never reach them in time.

Ezio watched her, knowing full well what she was thinking. He pushed himself from his relaxed position and took a few casual steps forward, placing himself in the centre of the room. His thought lingered on the bed, but the ice-cold eyes of this unusual female watching him with an intensity and focus that bordered on unsettling quickly quashed his hopes to a wistful maybe.

Violia knew she had to say something, anything, but her tongue seemed to have gone numb. She masked her fear with a cool aplomb that had served her well in the past. Slowly, she regained control of herself. "Tell me why you are here, or leave."

Ezio raised a single eyebrow. "You know why I'm here." He paused, looked her up and down in a clearly appraising manner. "I want to keep you out of my business. You do not give up easily, it would appear. I thought that perhaps a house call could prove constructive."

Violia clutched her towel more tightly around herself. She moved forward, but circled, bringing herself closer to her blade. "I have no intention to let you continue murdering the city guard and respected officials."

"I will avenge my family. Those responsible for their deaths... and those who stand in my way... will die." Ezio said, circling her as he spoke, placing himself more or less between her and her knife, without appearing to do so intentionally. "You, unfortunately, fit into one of those categories." He leaned on the very table her knife was on.

Violia felt her throat constrict. So he meant to kill her... and her best chance at defending herself was less than a foot away from him. She had no chance, he'd killed people wearing full armour on high alert, he's battled five people at once and won. Unless... Her brain was spinning with possibilities, working remarkably clearly, under just the right amount of stress. She could get that knife, and she could kill him. here, and now. It would just require some acting on her part.

Violia smiled at Ezio, a half smile full of mischief. She dropped her towel. With satisfaction, she watched the assassin's eyes open wider with pleased surprise.

"What could I do, to persuade you to let me live?" She asked, licking her lips. She felt a little ridiculous, surely he would call her bluff. She walked toward him directly, pressed herself to him, put her arms around his waist.

"I would accept a halt on all investigations..." He said coyly, "But I think we could work out a better deal."

"Indeed, I think we could." Violia replied, licking his neck.

He lowered his head to hers, kissing her deeply, one of his hands clasping her bare ass and pulling her sharply to him. She could feel a growing form beneath his layers of clothing, different from the bottles and weapons he concealed. Fear spiked in her, dread of the unknown, but she kept a hold of herself. She snaked one hand behind his back, feeling around on the table while she had him distracted. She felt him smirk against her lips. Was she doing something wrong? She redoubled her efforts, her free hand, the one that wasn't searching for cold steel, slid up the inside of his thigh, over the still growing heat that she knew ached for her.

He shuddered and gasped, at the very moment her hand found what it sought. His blade in one hand... hers in another. She clasped the hilt with a firm certainly, and drove it with the full force of her will at his unprotected back. Her hope soared... and shattered in an instant. A strong hand clasped her wrist. Ezio broke off the kiss and shook his head at her, though he was still smiling. He twisted her wrist expertly, forcing her to cry out and drop the weapon harmlessly to the floor.

"Really, did you think that would work?" He mocked her. He took control, walking forward, driving her toward the bed. He kept his grip on her wrist. She fell over backward when the edge of the bed caught the backs of her knees, and he fell on top of her.

The scent of him, the weight of him, his overwhelming presence... Viloia wasn't thinking clearly anymore. As with her daydream, the danger and sheer forbidden quality intoxicated her, made her blood burn. She kissed him again, to get back that remembered taste. He was surprised, but understandably pleased. It took him a surprisingly short time to get his complex belt off, particularly considering that he didn't stop kissing her to do it. He'd had many women, but he'd never wanted one quite this much. His shirts came off even faster, his passion increased considerably when she helped him.

The specks of blood on his white clothing almost brought her to her senses, but at that moment his hand reached between her legs, and the sheer sensation wiped her mind blank of thought. She bit his shoulder, not from anger, but because she was overwhelmed, and sought something solid she could hold onto. He gasped; this was a pain he enjoyed. He wiggled out of his pants, as naked as she was. The sight of his muscled, streamlined body was fuel on a fire that was already raging out of control. She knew she would burn, cook from the inside out, yet she only wanted the fire to get hotter. Her world split in two as her drove himself into her, the flames white-hot and radiating from their joined parts outward, and when he began to pump, in and out, she thought she would die.

It went on and on, each new wave of pleasure outdone by the next, so that she moaned and tossed beneath him, trying to get closer, though there was no way for two human beings to be nearer to each other than Violia and Ezio were at that moment. She was only dimly aware that her hands clawed at his back, that her hips bucked beneath him, and as a pinnacle approached, her whole world retracted from sight, sound, her limbs no longer existed, nothing existed but the moment of perfect, exquisite pleasure.

It washed through her, receding like a lapping tide, as he shuddered, releasing his seed within her. Ezio breathed deeply. He could see that she was utterly limp, and would likely be making no further attempts to kill him tonight, yet he had to be sure. As he dressed, he kept a close eye on her. She appeared to be asleep. Still, he didn't turn his back on her until he dropped from her open window into the night.