[Somewhere in all of this, probably at the origin that was much sillier than the moment is now, there is a joke about surrender to be made. Alucard does not even think of that now, not as he feels every single movement Sypha makes. Feels every shift, every breath, and feels the whole of himself electrified by it.
It's overwhelming, being like this. Hyperaware of every breath, every movement his fingers make as they move across Sypha's breath, wanting to hold more. What tension there is in him is that of wonderful, besotted, euphoric anticipation, because how can he not be? Everything here is perfect, from how Sypha responds to every touch to how he's nearly shaking from want.
He's measured as he helps Sypha settle. His hand goes back to her hip to help guide her, but it is unfair how hard that whimper hits him. There's a restrained, choked breath of delight in response to it, and his hips roll forward slowly to make sure that Sypha is comfortable.
She's warm. She's so warm, it's a constant contrast to himself, and he has to let out a controlled breath to try and center himself just for a moment.]
no subject
It's overwhelming, being like this. Hyperaware of every breath, every movement his fingers make as they move across Sypha's breath, wanting to hold more. What tension there is in him is that of wonderful, besotted, euphoric anticipation, because how can he not be? Everything here is perfect, from how Sypha responds to every touch to how he's nearly shaking from want.
He's measured as he helps Sypha settle. His hand goes back to her hip to help guide her, but it is unfair how hard that whimper hits him. There's a restrained, choked breath of delight in response to it, and his hips roll forward slowly to make sure that Sypha is comfortable.
She's warm. She's so warm, it's a constant contrast to himself, and he has to let out a controlled breath to try and center himself just for a moment.]
How do you want me?