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Dear reader, I am sorry that RL has gotten in the way. I hope to have Ch 9 our soon.

All the characters in this story are over 18.

I awoke to rediscover something I had long forgotten — the sheer pleasure of the break of dawn.

The crystal-clear morning was made more glorious by the scent of roses born on gentle breezes pouring through the open window. The fragrance washed over us, carried by the refreshing chill air. But not one beam of morning light, nor perfect dew-kissed bloom, could match the sheer perfection of the creature who slept in my arms.

I would rather die than disturb her slumber; her head lay upon my shoulder, her face only inches from my own. Her perfect body next to me, only obscured by only a thin sheet. I watched her breathe; felt the wisps of warm air across my skin; her beautiful breasts rose and fell in perfect time. Upon her face, a flawless portrait of womanhood, my love flowing out through my eyes carried by tears of joy. My body thrilled to the slightest of her touches as she lay so close.

We had made love until the Beast was sated, the first in my memory.

Even then, as it slept, my human form returned, and she had redoubled her efforts, bringing me to peaks I had never imagined. I reciprocated the gifts of pleasure with my own efforts with her body.

I had held her tight as I kissed and suckled and nibbled every single point of pleasure on the deliciously flawless body. Now I know every inch of her form far better than I knew my own. All would become cherished memories.

Her presence was a gift of wonder, one I would cherish during the long centuries that lay before me. As I watched her sleep, I could see those lonely years as a long march of stairs from this solid ground, each step taking me away from her to the gallows far above. However, I would still go to my death with this shining day and night as a magnificent bloom — a memory of perfection that would comfort me until the noose bit and I found my end.

Somewhere in the quiet of the night, I realized that for the first time since the waters of the spring had touched me; I was wholly Angela again. I had not realized how much I longed for my true self, the woman I once was. I had gained much becoming the Guardian of the Source, but I had given up much as well, and not until that moment as the morning light illuminated her face did I truly understand what I had sacrificed.

I watched her sleep for a few more precious moments, attempting to etch the scene into my memory. Then, finally, she started to stir, and I knew our time was drawing short.

“Alice,” I gently whispered, and I kissed her forehead as she slept. “Alice, my love, it is morning,” my voice caught in my throat as I said what I knew I must, my final words, but a whisper, “it is morning, and you must go.”

I could give her love but no family; if she stayed, I was sure she and I would be trapped here forever. But, if she returned to her life, she might know the limitations of a woman’s life, but also its joys. I would gift her children, then grandchildren, and the long roll of years filled with happiness and losses — a real life.

No, not to live the strange half-life of fantasy and horror I was condemned to live, to feed the Source until finally spent and cast away into dust, neither remembered nor mourned.

I could not, would not condemn her to my fate.

“My love, it is time for you to go.” These words were like ashes on my tongue, acid in my throat.

I watched her slowly begin to rouse, her soft moans and movements, then her eyes fluttered open to fill my heart with joy at her waking and dread for her leaving.

“Good morning, my love,” The words left my lips before I could restrain them.

“Oooh, how I adore the sound of that.” She rolled into me, lips pursed.

How was I not to meet those lips? I am only human, well most of me, part of me? I kissed her.

“Hmmm, my darling, what is for breakfast?” She asked, her eyes suddenly flying open. “Where do you get food?”

I laughed, “Don’t worry Alice, you have not eaten anyone…” moving closer to her, I showed my cat eyes, with my whiskers and fangs showing in my smile, “…that you knew well.” Then, returning to my human self, I laughed again. She responded by slapping my arm.

“Owww” I plaintively cried in mock agony, covering her target, and my mouth bearing a pronounced pout, she merely laughed. The sound of her voice thrilled my heart, my pout melting into the first genuine smile of the day before turning back to the subject at hand.

“No, my love, I have never harmed anyone. I do, on occasion, take meat, but from the same sorts of animals you would eat in your own house. However, harvested a little differently, I give my prey a fair chance to escape, not chase them with dogs and horses, nor keep them in pens until I slaughter them.” I was not trying to be rude, but my opinions had changed since my transformation.

“However, the forest provides, and I have some abilities to create much what kocaeli escort bayan I need.” I chose not to disclose all things; after all, I am the Guardian of the Source. What sort of Guardian would I be to tell all my secrets?

“Good!” she threw the covers away from her glorious body, a body that had given me such joy just hours before. The body that every fiber of my being wanted to keep precisely where it was, the body that I must send back to a world I could not return to, the body I would dream of for centuries.

“How about some yummy berries, perhaps with cream? Oh, and some of that lovely cheese and perhaps bread and honey, oh with juice and tea?” I asked, trying desperately to change the path of my thoughts.

I turned, and my heart ceased to beat for her smile… it outshone the sun!

“As you wish, my queen,” as I bowed, keeping my eyes locked on hers. The naughty part of me made sure to linger in the bow, hoping her eyes remained on my hanging breasts. I was rewarded as she blushed.

I was so thrilled that I willed her desire without a thought, and the table was already set in my garden.

“Oh, but what will I wear?” She with a slide long sly smirk, “You are rather hard on my wardrobe.”

“Look in the armoire,” I replied, admiring her form as long as it was on display for me.

“What armoire?” She asked; I waved my hand, gesturing to the one I had just created, filled with clothing to suit her, silks and satins, cotton, and linen, of all manner of design and cut.

“I can see how useful you would be to have around,” She smiled again and padded toward my creations. “And how my fashion could change nightly.” Her girlish giggle made my heart skip more beats.

“I will allow you to dress,” I decided to leave her some privacy, as silly as that might sound. I adopted a simple summer frock, now hanging upon the door. From my early memories, it was perhaps something a little dated; it had been some years since I had seen the London fashions, but it suited me, and I liked how it supported and displayed my assets. Wearing actual clothing for the first time in these many years seemed strange and sensual against my skin.

“Hurry down, my love,” I started for the door when Alice caught my arm at the wrist, turning me to her.

“I do like the sound of that,” Her cheeks were a bright red, “You shouted it last night, do you remember?”

It was my turn to blush; I could not recall anything of what I had shouted other than I had shouted a great many things. I meant all of them, especially that I love this beautiful woman.

“I… I may have said…” I stammered through the answer wishing to shout that I loved her, that I needed her to stay, that I was so lonely, but I knew what I should do and tried to do it.

“You said you loved me,” Alice replied in a whispered, breathless voice.

“I did, and I do. Now dress and come down to breakfast.” Before I lost my nerve, I turned and walked down the stairs and out into the garden.

I intended to inspect the garden repast, but in truth, I was pacing. Up and down my garden, from the arbor to the gazebo.

I began giving myself a stern talking to.

“Angela! You shan’t keep her; you simply must not! It would not be fair, you have nothing to return to, but she, she has a fiancée, a fortune, a life, and a future!” I repeated this to myself as I paced; it must have been some time as I did not see her approach.

“Do you often speak to yourself? Are you unbalanced?” Alice stood just inside the arbor entrance to the garden; her arm gracefully flowed to the post like a Greek statue.

My breath caught in my lungs; I could not speak and could barely breathe.

She was radiant in the simple white summer dress with tiny pearl buttons. I had seen it in a family painting years before, simpler than the yards of fabric in the dress she had worn when she arrived. Its cut complimented her shape, framing her full breasts, each crowned with her dark areolas just visible through the bodice. The arbor was covered in white and red roses; she stood against that wall of the color of passion and purity, a perfect example of both.

The absurdity of the question caused me to laugh; what with her experience in Wonderland, how could she ask such a question?

“Possibly, but you are the one who speaks to White Rabbits and whose best friend is Mad,” I took several breaths to control my laugher, Lord it did feel good to laugh, everything with this enchanting creature seemed delightful, but my sober mood returned.

There was at first a look of anger upon her face, which melted into amusement with my reply.

“But to answer your question. As I have said, I lost my family years ago; I was left alone to make my way, then found a little gate in a hedge and found myself here, as the Guardian of this place whether cursed or blessed, mad or sane, I have no measure to know.”

She came to me, arms flung open, “Poor dear, I know your pain.” She hugged me tight, and even though I was taller, I melted izmit escort bayan into her. I felt terrific, and I could have happily remained in her embrace forever.

“gurrrglle” The tender moment was interrupted by her stomach’s insistent demands for breakfast. We both laughed at its demand to be heard, which melted into giggles like schoolgirls, and I pulled away.

“Your breakfast is served, my lady” I bowed yet again, my arm sweeping toward the gazebo entrance where the table was filled to overflowing; there were fresh strawberries, blueberry, many others. A boat of sweet cream, a dish of clotted cream, loaves of bread for toasting, scones, bacon, sausage, fried eggs, even the revolting fish they enjoyed, everything I could remember my English friends would serve on my outings to the country. I hoped it was enough and prayed she would find it was bountiful and to her liking.

The breakfast brought to mind forgotten friends, and suddenly I wondered how they all were; it had been a decade since I had come to this place. Were they well? Had they missed me? I hoped they had not taken my disappearance badly, or worse, blamed themselves. But then, as quickly as the thought came, it evaporated with my beloved’s movements.

Alice took her place and filled her bowl and plate, and she certainly had an appetite.

I watched her eat; I was not hungry, being distracted, although I nibbled to share our last meal.

Letting her go was the most dreadful thing I had ever done. It occurred to me that I had made very few decisions in my life. My father had replaced my mother with Brendalin; he had decided my schooling, my home, our voyage, the school in England, then when they died, the Source had summoned me.

Today was the first choice I had to make. I found I had no appetite.

We chatted and enjoyed our time; she complimented my table, the beauty of my home, the works of art I had created from memories of my family, my table service, even my crockery and cooking utensils. So many trivial things it was clear she was trying to delay her departure, and the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave.

She was fighting to stay, yet I struggled to let her go.

“Alice,” My voice broke as I was trying to find the words. I so wish to rush to her, pick her up, and carry her back to my bed.

Hell’s bells! My body raged to throw everything off the table and take her on it!

“Please, Angela, let me stay.” A tear slowly made its way down her cheek. “I know it is mad, but I have fallen in love with you. I do not love the man I am being forced to marry; I do not even like him, he is loathsome, and I am sure he only wants me for my money. You have spoken more words of love and compassion than anyone since my mother’s funeral.”

Her hand shot across our breakfast table, and it clutched mine, hers so warm, it held tight as if she would fall if she loosened just a bit.

“Please don’t throw me to the wolves, I beg you… please let me stay!” Her tears were falling freely like rain, and my heart melted, as did my resolve.

“Yes,” I threw the table and its contents away as if they were no heavier than a feather, and I scooped her up into my arms, pulling her to my chest, and kissed her with all my might and very soul. “Yes, a thousand yeses, all the yeses in the universe, my love.”

She had thrown her arms around my neck, and we kissed, her kisses meeting mine with the ferocity of a wildfire, her breasts crushing into me, our body’s so close they seemed as one, and we refused to separate. I wished it would remain that way for all eternity.

I found my need was rekindled, and this time, it was not the Beast driving me but Alice herself. My desire to share with her, hold her and be one with her. I did not tear her clothing from her, as I had the night before, but restrained myself and slowly removed the dress, revealing what was now familiar, yet as much as I knew what awaited me, I also seem to find it new all the same. I could not help but wonder at the oddity and beauty of it. At once, I knew that each time I beheld her, whether it was the next moments or a century of lovemaking, I would still wonder at her beauty regardless of how time might change her; she would always be my Aphrodite.

As I held her, I felt her body, her flesh, pushed into mine as she helped me remove my dress. Again, I could not help but laugh at the strangeness of wearing cloth again, it felt wonderful to my skin, yet its leaving was so sweet.

The dress fell from my shoulders, my human form revealed in full, the Source was so sated, that none of its influence was evident, other than the changes it had wrought though hidden and quiet, I was as nearly as I was when I entered the waters. She kissed me, and I returned the kiss.

All lovers know the thrill of lips meeting lips, and our kisses were no exception. I could barely breathe, my heart was pounding, my body was afire, but hers was an all consuming blaze against my skin.

My hands gebze escort roamed with a will of their own, your back was softer than the silks of all Asia, and your silk-clad muscle caused me to melt inside. When they found her bottom and her cheeks flex, then relaxed, as her legs parted and embraced my own, I found I had stopped breathing entirely.

Her nipples were burning into my flesh, pink suns scorching the arid desert of my breasts, and her hot breath in my mouth drove my breath from my body, and her tongue searched for my very soul. I drove mine to meet hers, and a dance they made along our lips, teeth, and gums put all, including the most sensual tango to shame.

A seeming millennia later, I drew away to gaze into the bluest of eyes and beheld her flushed face.

“What is it, my love?” She asked through a smile that caused me to forget words.

“I realized that I am happy, for the first time in my entire life.” Tears began to fall down my face, which she kissed away.

“Surely that cannot be true? Did you not know happiness with your family?” Then, she innocently asked; I realized that the differences between our experiences would always be a gulf between us, but I would have the sadness and joy of teaching her of mine and learning of hers. Perhaps that is what becoming one truly means.

“My father loved me deeply, but somehow he, no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, he pined for my mother. I, on the other hand, was the cause of her death. I would sometimes catch a look in his eyes, a sadness, a loss. On occasion, I caught him gazing at a portrait of her in his study, sometimes for hours on end. Brendalin reassured me that he mourned my mother and would sometimes tell her what had happened. He never held me responsible, but I did.” I responded, giving words to feelings I had long carried, but never fully voiced.

“But enough of that, I have found love, and it has found me.” I pulled her close, kissing her again, moving my kisses down to her neck, pulling her onto my lap on the lounge I had created in place of our overturned breakfast.

“So useful you are….” She chuckled as I lay her back upon the thick bedding and fluffed pillows, her hair showering the white silk. “I can see I will never get anything useful done….”

“Well! Personally consider this to be very useful.” I kissed her mouth again; she yelped as I gently pinched her left nipple, already firm and wanting to be touched.

“Do that again!” Then, smiling, she wove her fingers into my hair as I kissed and nibbled her neck again; I left marks this time. I wanted all creation to know she was mine, my lover, my love!

As I created the marks of my love on her neck, I wondered when the Beast would burst forth again in full vigor demanding its tribute, but much to my shock, I knew it sill slumbered, feted, and content.

I wondered at that; perhaps the intensity of our love had filled its need more thoroughly than simple lust driven couplings.

My lips found her ear, and I suckled her lobe, nibbling at it from time to time; she was sweet and tasted of salt from sweat and the remnants of the soaps and perfume she used. It put into my mind that I must find a way to create them for her; perhaps they could be bought in the White Queens markets?

Her moans grew hungrier, and I worked down her torso, brushing my lips across her skin, sometimes biting her shoulders. My bites always brought a moan from her lips and growls of approval, she certainly enjoyed my bites, or at least the hungry look in her eyes made me think so.

I watched Alice’s breasts rise and fall at a walk then building to a gallop, and even without my feline senses, I knew her need; her sweat was salty and sweet, to me, it was a fine wine, a vintage hungrily drunk as I kissed it from her flesh. Her response to each passing of my tongue was a deep sigh, her desire growing with each passage.

My lips took her right nipple deeply, holding it tight, my tongue roving over its stiffness, leaving no escape, not that she seemed to desire one.

I love the way her flesh crinkles and swells to form firm yet soft sensitive mounds that fill my mouth.

For myself, my body was burning like no flame that ever scorched Mother Earth.

I could deny myself no longer, and my fingers searched for her folds. Her thighs opened to me, her fingers twined my hair, pulling me closer to kiss her deeply; her smile caused my breath to catch in my chest, and for a moment, I was sure I would never be able to fill my lungs again.

She was soaking to my touch; her hips rose to meet my probing fingers. Her sex was blazing with heat and dripping wet. Her body melted into me, forcing her breasts up into me; she was giving me all she was, all she had to offer. Where my desire for her was once lust, only a scant handful of hours before, but now? Now I knew my passion, like base lead, had been transmuted by her magic into love, a love that would never leave me.

My lips moved down, passing over taught muscled stomach; my lips forged a trail through the finest of down below the fluttering belly toward the mound that I desired more than life itself. I was her lover, her love, her slave, and I would be forevermore. I sealed my fate with my lips on that tinny nub that brought her such joy.

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