Harley, it seemed, was very much a woman unto herself. A being whom was determined beyond all measure to do things her own way and at her own speed- no manner the warning she was offered. Matteo's efforts to warn her away from touching anything within that room seemed to last only a manner of moments before the young woman saw to examining those rows upon rows of perfumes that adorned Risque's dresser. That near pointed look the Frenchman afforded her was met with nothing short of a beaming grin. Matteo's offering her a roll of his gaze in turn as a near dubious look settled upon his features. Ah, how hard he tried to keep his people safe from the future and how wilfully they defied him! It was as if fate played upon both sides. How very many words he should like to have with that entity- if there was such a being to begin with at all. His explanation of those vampiric relationships and those impossibly deep bonds vampires so had a habit of forming with one another seemed to prompt a curious story of sorts from his companion. Harley insisting she had been upset when Nathaniel had refused to turn her. Matteo's on head turned sharply sideways, the gesture largely missed by the raven haired woman as she claimed she had dodged a bullet. Matteo, for now, inclined to remain silent and yet how he near loathed to consider that a being so alive as Harley might ever have desired that deathly, vampiric existence. How very, very much she reminded him in that moment of Risque herself. Ah, but she had so surely been so very alive too- once. How well he remembered her even now. How foolish it was to miss someone whom had died so very long ago and yet how difficult it was to forget when that very...shell of a being he had once adored so wandered the earth in her body. He had tried- and failed- to keep that vampirism from Risque all those years ago. That Harley, in the very least, had seen the flaws in her decision was ...merciful.

Harley chuckled then, that sound so drawing Matteo from his own considerations of the past as the woman insisted her past self would not have listened to all the same before she afforded that photograph another look and wandered across the vast expanse of that bedroom. Her contemplation of vampiric anniversaries coaxed that simper to his own lips then. Matteo assured he could ask his own son just how that vampire race celebrated anniversaries, Harley quick to protest his son might not be willing to share with his Father those celebratory activities and yet she desired to know all at once. Her near blatant curiosity coaxing that chuckle from him once.

"Ah, Mon Amie, you would be surprised what my family shares."

One eye merely arched neatly upward. Just what that very sentence meant os remained to be seen. Matteo, as always, hardly seeing but any need to elaborate as the pair so moved to separate ends of that room to investigate those things of intrigue while Darius watched on in clear curiosity. The Frenchman allowed his gaze to linger upon Harley for several moments longer as she disappeared into the wealth of that wardrobe. A part of the near ancient Fae distinctly determined to watch over her all the same before his own attention returned to the nightstand beside Risques bed. Ah, how rarely he allowed his own curiosity to flourish and yet, here and now, he found but some sense of intrigue in its contents as he quietly pulled that draw open. The neat collection of papers within was hardly unanticipated and yet- it was that singular, delicate chain at the very back of the drawer that he so neatly drew from the depths with the tips of his fingers that garnered his attention. Near on six centuries and she had still kept it. One of the last gifts he had ever given her. Why she chose to keep that delicate piece he hardly knew. No part of him inclined to believe but any of the woman he had once been so close with remained any longer. She had died. All those years ago. Her body so merely replaced with an imposter whom he so continued to follow through history itself even if he hardly remembered why in turn.

That near soft sigh fell gently from him then, Matteo returning that delicate chain to its place within the drawer. Surely, that very piece did not mean anything to her? Not any longer. Emotions, he suspected, had long since fled in the wake of her corruption. Harley's near sudden wondering on whether or not her chest might manage to fit into Risque's dress so managed to coax that laughter from him then, Matteo so wandering forward to peer into that wardrobe momentarily, his eyes rolling lightly at the nature of women. It did not manner, he was certain, as to whose clothes a woman was presented with- she felt a near eternal need to picture them upon herself. Matteo's own attention returned to the bed as Harley hurried from the wardrobe in the wake of the hiss and spit of but one of Risque's feline pets. Matteo offering that age old 'I told you so' only for Harley to insist she hadn't hurt anything before attempting to pretend she was hardly so flustered as she was. Ah, as if he did not already no he was right!

"Ah, I see."

Those accented words were offered simply, the raven-haired beauty afforded a near knowing look then before Matteo's fingers so extended to tease at those handcuffs that hung from the bed. Risque, it seemed, holding little desire to hide her fetish for such things and yet- why should she? Her bedroom, he suspected,was entirely off limits to any being save Darcy, those selected cats, or whichever unfortunate person she chose to devour on those evenings she simply did not desire to leave the comforts of her bedroom at large. It was those handcuffs themselves however that so prompted that near curious query from his lips, his silver gaze so coming to rest upon his companion then as a near impish grin so found his features. The Frenchman seeing little harm in coaxing that glorious blush to Harley's cheeks as he asked after her own...experience with those restraints. In that near typical Harley-style the young woman so attempted to appear unphased by the question as she flopped back atop the bed. His warning not to touch anything so seemingly having been all but obliterated as she admitted that such....activities were not those she had engaged in before. Matteo, for his own part, so wholly at ease with that distinct conversation. The Frenchman assuring her such specific activities were far, far better in the hands of one experienced with them. The young woman content to admit that such was surely true for most things. Her words coaxed another soft chuckle to hum from the depths of his throat.

"Ah, Mon Cherie, I think you are right."

How he should surely not tease her so and yet how....very tempting it was. Harley, he knew, so inclined to rise to that very bait of his suggestion she had been doing such things wrong for most of her life. She seemed to ponder that very statement for several moments before querying just how such things should be done. That very curiosity, of sorts, encouraging he return of that near impish simper to his own lips. How very unfortunate it would be for such a woman as her not to know of the pleasures that might come at the hands of those whom had lived for century upon century and been given but every chance to learn them. Matteo's own hand extended toward her then with that simple utterance to trust him. Harley, he suspected, for all her sharp words and sarcastic wit- far more inclined to trust him then she was determined to have him believe. Her hesitance lasted but barely a moment before her hand extended to rest gently in his own, Matteo inclined to pull her gently to her feet then. That look of confusion upon her own features so furthering that very amusement upon his own as he moved to take her other hand then- raising both above her head. His own, larger hand, so easily bound bother her wrists together, affording her just enough pressure to offer that very feeling of...entrapment. A silent suggestion that for now it was he whom was in control. This his very own game to play. His words so inclined to suggest as much. The Frenchman, this time, unable to keep that....want that found its way into those accented lyrics. His voice so taking on that ner deeper tone in response to that desire so so easily afflicted his figure.

It was simple then, to step around and behind her. Matteo gently tugged her body back and agianst his own until her femanine figure rested flush agianst the hard plains of his own chest. The ready warmth of Harley's body, even throughthat clothing, nothing short of satisfying. How critical that trust was to this very game- a game they played so, so well and one she had, boldly, allowed him to command tonight. His hand came to rest but gently upon her hip and yet, this time, he hardly allowed it to rest in that singular position. Matteo, instead, so allowing his fingers to trail along that sensitive skin, his fingers teasing a near circular, caressing pattern as he moved. One so easily felt beneath that barrier of clothing that denied them both that very sensation of skin on skin he was near assured he would have adored in that moment and yet- such was the game he played tonight. After all, this very moment was about so teaching Harley of those things she had missed, about the pleasure that could be found in restraint, that desirable confliction that came with desire and trust and too- those sensual experiences to be found in yielding so entirely to another being. How very, very unfortunate they did not have a whole evening. How very exquisite she would have looked nestled upon the white of his own sheets in his Chateau. Such thoughts entirely content to turn within his mind as he explained his own actions in that heated moment.

He could feel her breathing quicken and deepen all at once with each practised stroke, his fingers thetening with each caress to climb higher and higher upon her thigh towards that very apex that so surely desired that touch most and yet, for tonight, he remained wholly content to deny her- and himself. Her frustration was almost palpable. Harley so rarely a woman inclined to hide her feelings and yet Matteo was near assured that made their game all the more enjoyable. Her body pressed all-too eagerly back into his own. Matteo relishing that position surely more than he should have, that faint unsteadiness to his own breath, to his own words as he offered them warmly agianst the back of her neck surely giving away that he was hardly as immune to that game as he pretended. That he was hardly immune to her even if his control, so often, afforded him that guise. His fingers pressed more firmly then, finding just that place she seemed to respond to best if only to prompt that hitch of her breath and the sudden, sharp intake of her breath followed by that cuss. That very nickname she had chosen for him uttered in the same moment. That sound undeniably ...alluring. It had been far too long since anyone had uttered that name in the heat of such a sensual moment as this. He had almost missed that sound.

How easy it was to find those places upon her that had been ignored far to long, to tease her sensitive skin into life even with that barrier of clothing and the mere tips of his fingers. What sort of men had she lain with before that had ignored such things? Her sudden insistence that he let her touch him was met with a ready simper upon his own lips. Matteo hardly lessening those touches as his grip upon her wrists merely tightened.

"Not tonight, Mon Cherie."

Those accented words were little more than a murmur agianst her skin once more. His hand, this time, slipped beneath her jacket and shirt, exploring that skin more sensually, more slowly and far more purposefully. A part of the Fae distinctly desiring to lift her shirt from her figure entirely and yet ...they were running out of time. Darcy and Risque but mere moments from walking into that room. How reluctant he was to release her, to step away from her, to give up the warmth of her figure and the unsteadiness of her breath. His own having near shifted to match and yet- Risque would do far more than merely interrupt that moment if she found them. That soft utterance that their time was up was met with little more than confusion fromHarley as Matteo gently released her, the Fae unable to prevent that amusement that tugged at him all the same before he hurried to pull the blankets of the bed back into place as the clock of the lock in the door sounded. Darius hurried forward as Harley's hand extended towards the stallion, Matteo reaching for him in turn. The stallion managing to teleport them mere seconds before the door swung open.

The Frenchman was so hardly afforded that chance to blink before they were returned to the safety of Harley's own apartment. That call...decidedly close and yet, in that manner he always was, Matteo so hardly appeared concerned as he moved to step away from Darius then and lean back against the table in Harley's kitchen. His companion, for her part, appeared ...unusually frazzled. The faintest hint of amusement at her demeanor so managed to tug at his lips all the same as she insisted that was close. His own utterance that he had surely won their game seeing that determined spark flare right back as she spun to face him. Ah! But how easy she was to rile and yet, how very much he enjoyed it. Harley quick to insist he played a dirty game- one that did not equate victory. Matteo's own shoulders lifted in a simple, easy shrug then, that simper upon his lips hardly faltering as he regarded her.

"That was not dirty, Mon Cher. That was my...warming up."

That near knowing grin so hardly faltered. Matteo content to allow her own thoughts to take those words in any fashion she might like. The Frenchman assured that veritable tease was merely the beginning of what he, they, might be capable off. Harley, her eyes very near ablaze, content to assure him that she had yet to yield to him. That, he supposed, an accurate point upon her behalf. Harley equally as content to point out that Darius had saved her, that he had lost every game they had played and that she had but one final point. Matteo so allowed one eye to lift then. Amusement still upon his features.

"Oh? What else do you think, Harley?"

She stepped forward then, her heart, it seemed, having steadied enough to facilitate that movement towards him. Matteo inclined to find her ...determination admirable. Her boldness truly rare in a woman and yet it suited her. Her very nature, in all its rash, bold, wild, uncontrollability- suited her. For all the world had thrown upon her she remained...resilient- and how rare a thing that was. Her proud declaration that he was, in fact, an ass- albeit a talented, wonderfully unusual one so both his eyes lift in amusement. Matteo allowed that warm ready, laughter to leave him, the grin upon his features hardly faltering.

"Ah, but that is one of the nicer things that have been said about me over the years, Mon Cherie. Thank you- I think. For what it is worth, you are a pain in my wonderfully talented ass when you do not listen to me but- I find you endearing, despite it."

Those words were little more than a gentle tease, his voice nothing short of warm before his features shifted to something more serious. Tonight, after all, had not been merely about those games. Tonight, despite his playful nature, had been ...far more serious then that. Matteo offering that genuine thanks then. After all, despite her fear, Harley had done what was needed of her, what was asked of her, in the face of the beings he suspected she feared most. Even if she insisted that revenge had been all the thanks she needed. Her own features became more serious in turn at his insistence that she should not forget that, no matter how it seemed, Risque was not infallible. Even if she pretended. Even if she had learned that very demeanor, he suspected ...from him. Harley's soft query on whether or not he had regained his title however was met with a nod.

"I think I have. I shall struggle to outdo myself in further acts of revenge I think."

That Harley proclaimed that she would miss Risque's bed was, perhaps, an indication of just how tired that young woman was. Matteo content to chuckle again as he leant forward and away from that table then.

"I think, Mon Cherie, it is time you went to bed, but before you do- I have not forgotten..."

Matteo shifted back and toward Darius then, his hand reaching to adjust that bridle just so before his hand moved to stroke at the stallions forehead. Darius, despite himself, leaning into that affectionate touch. Matteo's silver gaze returned to the bright violet of Harley's own.

"When I was still quite young, still a boy and my family farm was at last beginning to flourish there was a change of sorts within the world. One, I think, that had a great deal to do with religion at the time and with an increase in disease and with the ignorance of many of the time period. Supernatural creatures still existed then, though our numbers were smaller and though we were well hidden, a number of things like death, disease, outbreak- became blamed on supernatural species. People were terrible superstitious then. It triggered ...violent action agianst supernaturals. In the village I lived in it became known as The Purge."

Matteo paused, frowning slightly then at those memories so terribly distant, so far in the past and yet so far from forgotten.

"Many, many supernatural beings were killed or forced to flee their homes. Neighbours were encouraged to sell out their supernatural neighbours and friends, people were paid in gold for presenting the authority with the body of a Were or Vampire or Witch or Fae. Our family lived on the outskirts of the village. To this day I do not know who told them where we were, we had done nothing to any humans, my parents were good people, farmers like every other and my siblings and I were only children. My oldest sister was only in her teenage years. My family was forced to flee our home. It was burned to the ground. My Father, in his efforts to assure we escaped, was captured and beheaded. One of my sisters was also killed. My Mother was left with no home, three children to raise and in one single moment I became the man of our family with all of the families expectations upon me. And that, I think, is enough for tonight. Goodnight, Harley."

He had hardly forgotten that promise to share that story with her. Those accented words offered readily before the near ancient Fae lent forward, his lips pressed softly to her cheek in that sudden and yet gentle gesture. Darius' own power embraced him readily then. Both Fae and Stallion abruptly disappearing from that kitchen then. Harley, so finally, left to sleep in peace.

c'est dur d'être un dieu.