[He may seek to shepherd their actions, to broker them to his conditions, but turn about is fair play. Sypha is good at pushing buttons, at finding cracks, and she knows how to exploit them with him. Of course, the same could well be said in turn, as he knows all of her weaknesses as well. The only difference is his slow burn juxtaposed against her harder motions.
Sypha does manage to keep her balance, and may have kept it far longer out of sheer stubbornness had she known his mind. She doesn't, but it is pleasant from here, feeling the silken texture of his hair slip through her fingers, to have the steady firmness of his chest by hers. He is a very handsome individual, and there is no denying that.
Her lips do brush teasingly over his, once, twice, before that thick voice hums, mouth still hovering over his.]
See. Showing is better than telling, no?
[Although what can Sypha say. She is greedy, and her terms are far from met as she lowers herself to rest on his lap.]
[Alucard's smile is razor sharp, aware that they've both reached the same conclusion about where this is probably going to end. It's hardly the first time the library's bore witness to this, and it won't be the last.
He does pull back though, because it is far better for him to bury his face into her shoulder. To use one hand to tug at fabric, exposing skin, and then apply a flurry of kisses to what he can reach. It means that there's more hair for Sypha to take in hand, and that some of it falls down and out, brushing against her chest, a few flyaways sticking to the fabric of the sofa itself.
What he isn't kissing (and never kisses without explicit permission) is her neck.]
then my internet goes down and my laptop decides to update
[There is a smile and a soft chuckle at his words, although her eyes are still only for him, pupils blown in desire. A protest falls past her lips as he retreats, mouth starting to open to give a quick quip, but it falls away in to a low moan as his lips dance over her skin.
No doubt some may look upon him with horror due to his lineage, and Sypha knows a thing about that. All three of them have been judged by false beliefs, and in their cases, they couldn't be further from the truth. She's seen him fight, that raw strength and poise, and yet he is as delicate and gentle now as a lamb. One with sharp pointy fangs, mind...
Her hand does turn, to stroke down those golden threads, only to reach up again, fingers pressing against the nape of his neck. It is those small pleasurable noises that slip past her lips as she squirms on Alucard's lap. Her hand comes free from his shirt, to join the other one in his hair, and while he may skirt around her neck, Sypha trusts him wholly. It is why her head lolls to the side and her fingers press ever so, guiding, but not demanding, permission granted but not forced.]
WELP. and now im heading to bed so UNTIL TOMORROW....
[Alucard understands that not only is permission given, but that he is more than welcome to move towards Sypha's neck. It's one of those wordless gestures that has developed as a natural outgrowth of this relationship, and it is a pleasure in and itself.
He moves from shoulder to neck with a slow, careful trail of kisses that linger in each spot for almost a moment too long. That's on purpose too, because Alucard still wants to hold a few cards in this thing that's still, in theory, a negoation.
Having Sypha squirm in place is cruel though, because what it provokes is a half roll of his hips. That was a tool for later, to be strategically used for effect rather than used so early on.]
[Her fingers curl against the nape of his neck, digging lightly at his toying movements. Sypha's not surprised at his course of action, given how chaste his movements has been, knowing that he is doing it on purpose and not for any other reason. At least no more. There had been some learning curves in the beginning, but that's settled since.
Sypha gives that soft moan as he meanders, taking his bloody awful time, and she debates whether to give ground and force her hand, or sit back. It is hard at times to see what reaction she can obtain from him, as he tends towards stoic, but there... His body responds on kind to her own instinctual movements, her legs squeezing ever so as she finds her breath hitching with that upward roll of his.
She gives that hum, nails scraping over his scalp as one hand glides down the length of his hair, giving a small tug before releasing. Yet that hand isn't idle or passive, dragging down his chest, twitching as his lips press. Her fingers twist, pulling the hem of his shirt up, until her thumb can skim along his abdomen.
They are of two different minds, not that Sypha actually has qualms about his leisurely pace. It is nice, and does bring a flush to her cheeks, but so does giving another downward roll of her hips, grinding circular.]
[Sypha's fingers against Alucard's neck are a thing unto themselves. The motions there draw quick, sharper breaths from him than anything else, because surprise: anything involving necks is a Thing for the dhampir.
Still, his progress is careful and measured, because to kiss up Sypha's neck and ending just below her jawline is something worth doing slowly. Not just because of all the wonderful noises she makes and the way he can feel every one of them while he is pressed so close against her, but because against her neck, Alucard can feel the change in her heartrate. There's such a thrill to it that he should be ashamed, but oh no. This is pure delight for him.
A warm hand against cool flesh gets a deep sigh out of him, one too besotted to function for a moment. He's still pressed against her neck, but that is changing now, as he must ask one question:]
General. [Because this is still sort of a negotiation.] Is the loss of my shirt a part of your terms?
[He has to absolutely control his hips to not respond to any provocation.]
[It's those little things that Sypha knows, that she could press further if she so desired, that she has pressed further in the past. She may well return there again later, but she has her own agenda, and she hums, fingers drumming against his side.
He is very distracting, especially as he seems to be covering every inch of her flesh with his mouth. Her voice gives a measure of calm, but the flush on her skin and the measure of her heartbeat claim others.]
Mhmm. The gummy army demands some territories to be surrendered.
[Like his shirt, to begin with... Other items are certain to follow, as she moves to draw the fabric slowly up, fingers exploring his skin as if it were unexplored land and she needed to memorize the lay of it. Of course she has seen him before, has been with him before, but it never gets old or tiresome.]
[Alucard withdraws his hands in full, raising them up over his head so that removing his shirt is easier for Sypha. It is important, in negotiations, to be helpful about such things.]
And in examining the territories underneath, what is to be found?
[It is a little awkward, being positioned like this. It isn't a hardship though, because for all of Sypha's time, there is a chance to luxuriate in her touches.]
[There is a downside to it, of course, being that his hands have to leave, but Sypha has no doubts that they will return. She does take her time though, leaning slightly back on his lap, to continue to run those slightly calloused finger tips over his flesh. Alucard is lean, a fighter's body, of muscle and sinew, and she savours the feel as she moves it up and over his head.
Her body contorts, leaning forward to brush a kiss against his chest. It's her turn now to take her time, trailing them upwards, until her lips dart along his collar bone, a small nip. She works it as a co-ordinated attack, moving the shirt over Alucard's head just as her lips nibble at his neck. She does pause, mouth vibrating in a hum, contemplating.]
Oh, just what kinds of resources I have now gained.
[Alucard doesn't mind having his arms forced to hover up and above for a time. It's not a hardship, if anything, it makes things all the better when the shirt is finally up over his head. He can wave it away with a simple movement, and it's at that exact point when he feels Sypha's lips hit his neck.
Oh, all the kisses to his chest and upward were wonderful, without a doubt lovely, but it's that nibbler and the sensation of vibration that follows that gets a near maidenly sigh out of him.]
[Her tongue flicks out, lapping along the line of his neck, trying to invoke another such sound as the one that he has just made. It is a nice sound, and not one you might expect from the dhampir on first glance, which is why Sypha wants to hear it again. It's those little things that she enjoys.]
Oh? Hmm. And how would you like to amend that?
[Drawing her face away again, to glance up at him.]
[There is another such sound indeed, but it comes from deeper in the pit of Alucard's stomach, all rumbly like a cat's. (He is, of course, not a cat if his fursona is anything to go by.) It is coupled with him trying to shift his legs beneath Sypha, which only results in accidentally rubbing against her thighs.
Amend, amend....Alucard considers this as one of his hands moves all too carefully to take Sypha's breast, to squeeze it with the same measured consideration that all other actions have had so far. It is coupled with him leaning forward, a slight smirk across his features.]
[That soft but pleased chuckle slips past her lips. He might play slow and cold, and play it very well, but his body tells a completely different story. Then again, she also knows that if he so desired, he would give in to those urges. No, they are each playing their own hand in this.
A catch in her breath before she swallows gingerly though, surprised as his hand finds her breath, and yes, that is quite lovely. Her lips part, tongue caught between her teeth and oh! Her eyes narrow, not failing to note that smirk. That small huff as she wiggles, purposefully pressing down with her thigh to create friction. There's nothing accidental about that, nor about her leaning forward, pressing her breath harder in to his grasp.]
Fair? I seem to recall that you were taken, surrounded, caught unawares!
Ah, and here you betray that you don't understand diplomacy. Giving little things early on mean that you can well and truly rule when the major matters are brought up and must be decided.
[There's a laugh in Alucard's voice as he says it, aware that this entire exchange is both downright ridiculous and far too arousing, which it has no right to be in the first place. He's much too content with the flow of events, the ebb and tide of exchange, how the pretense of negotiations egg them both on.
His fingers react automatically as Sypha presses against Alucard's hand. Through the fabric, they grasp on harder, then move so that the pads of them drag fabric over Sypha's breast for a new form of friction. One passes oh too lightly over her nipple as a happy accident, but when his hand moves the opposite direction, that pass over is so very deliberate.
Pressing down against his thigh though? That's playing dirty, and Alucard makes a deliberate attempt to not respond to it, even as his hips try to rebel against that control. His own face has whisps of color in the cheeks, but the smirk? That's still there.]
Mm. Or maybe I'm just a dictator, taking what I want...
[An emphasis is placed on the want, drawing that word out as she gives him that heated look, although the laughter in his tone has her huffing a little. It fades as quickly as it comes though, as of course he isn't just going to idly sit there and let her boss him around, at least not completely... She can feel the goosebumps start to rise over her skin, knowing that nothing he is doing is accidental.
It's heat that flushes to her core as his thumb teases, drawing her nipple to a perk, and yes, she would have to admit that it is completely lovely, but it could be better still.]
But perhaps you have persuaded me...
[That low purr to her voice and she makes no effort to remain still, hips continuing to slowly rock, liking the friction of their two bodies pressing together, of the surety of his grip, the controlled manner in which his hand moves. She slowly moves back, weight shifting to grind harder down, thighs tightening to keep herself steady as her hands leave him, to slowly tug her own shirt upwards. It is a quick of an eyebrow, arousal clear on her features as her eyes never leave his.]
[The smart ass response of how is that different from normal? goes unsaid, and everyone is all the better for it. Alucard knows that it would ruin this absolutely lovely, wonderful perfect moment. Besides, he'd hate himself for destroying the chance to look at Sypha like this.
She's wonderful. Beautiful. As bright as the flames she summons forth, and oh isn't that the greatest irony of this situation? He and Trevor have been far too scarred by fire in their lives, and yet their greatest love is Sypha who burns all too brightly.
This time when Sypha's hips rock against him, Alucard does respond. The motion is smooth and controlled and drawn out, pressing up and against her with the sureity of a wave moving across the ocean. And that's all fine and good, until the grinding gets an honest to God moan out of him that is completely unfair.
He watches carefully as Sypha's hands withdraw. As they take off her shirt, and there's a flush of pink to his cheeks that on anyone else would be a bright and burning red. There's a sigh that leaves him, unsteady and hitched, but oh, they're even now and that gives him a new opening.
The shirt's gone, and that means Alucard can lean in and press his lips to the spaces where his hands were only moments before. Oh, it means no more eye contact, for his head is now bowed low as he presses kiss after kiss after kiss to her breast, never lingering in one place. It's a race to see how long it takes to cover every inch of skin in affection now, and there's such joy in the action that it's clear he has forgotten the nonsense set up of all of this.]
[There's a blissfulness to his motion, breath catching in her throat at his moan hits her ears. It's her own turn to give a soft chuckle, knowing that the story they are weaving is starting to fray, but in the most pleasant of ways. It's been a playful dance, but the music is more intent now, more focused, like his gaze on her revealed flesh. There's something to be said about the colour on his cheeks, noting those little cues that the dhampir has.
And yet she doesn't quite expect him to move as quickly as he does.
Not that she is complaining in the least as her moan is louder as he peppers kisses across her skin. That needy noise as Sypha leans forward, hands threading in to his hair, kneading along his scalp. If he means to break her apart, he may well yet do so.]
Alucard...
[Her grip tightens as he explores her with a thoroughness she had promised, lighting her body up and sending fires burning all throughout. There's no measure to the way her body rides his, hips gyrating, drawing him out and along to meet her. There's nothing typical about them, about the relationship that they have all formed, but Sypha could say that nothing makes more sense than this.]
[At the sound of his name, Alucard looks up for only a moment. In the intensity of his gold eyes there is an absolute hunger for where this will end, but it is balanced with a genuine besotted adoration the likes that the vampire could only, only have for his Speaker or his Belmont. The sigh that follows is better for a swooning maiden, and he nuzzles upwards in the general direction of Sypha's neck without ever really trying to leave the space he's carved out for himself.
He's been using one hand to simply hold onto Sypha, and now the other one moves downward. There's no care to it, not like before, only a speed that is in line with the intensity that they've made for themselves. That hand grabs onto Sypha's thigh with no small amount of enthusiasm, then slides up with all too clear purpose.
Alucard's mouth hasn't returned to smothering Sypha's chest with kisses, but that's only because a practical matter has to be taken care of first.]
[A catch 22 there, as she likes him right where he is, and doesn't want him to move, but also that little hindrance of the rest of their attire. A pity there had been no spell for the removal of clothing in the Belmont library, given the nature of some of the items items she had found, as Sypha would have worked on that until she had mastered it. No, there is no such luck.
Her own hands glide, his locks like silk between her fingers, until she cups his cheeks, angling his face upwards to meet her own downward kiss. There's nothing chaste about it, although there is a tenderness, something that transmits all her affection towards him, her love and devotion.
Yet her fingers drop from his face, letting her kisses keep him there, as they brush down his chest, feeling the bump of his ribs, skirting around his abdomen, until they find his pants. He looks quite nice in them, but better still without them as her fingers search for those all too familiar items that are in her way. One buckle, than the other, for his belts, giving a little nip in to the kiss as her palm brushes over his lap, before her fingers move to start the process of removing his pants.
She'll have to rise, she knows, but not quite yet as her hand moves. Teasing again against that bulge, she gives a light rub before she takes a detour, slipping his hand beneath the waist band. That hum against his lips as she finds him, fingers circling around his length.]
[It's a hardship, yes, but one that's worth enduring for where it leaves them both. There's a happy sigh at knowing the hardship for what it is, and one that's soon swallowed by far more powerful and important forces.
With Sypha's hands guiding him to look upwards, Alucard's lower hand remains steadfast in it's work. It moves to where hip and thigh meet, then towards the center, daring to stroke through undergarments, and that's all while Sypha angles his head up.
The kiss that Sypha takes from him is given with such surrender that it shouldn't be possible, and yet here he is, all but melted in her hands. There's no chasteness in his response either, there is only deep and fierce need for more. More of this. More of her. More of this moment.
He stays where he's bidden, matching intensity for intensity. There's no hiding how he shivers and arcs upward under Sypha's touch as her fingers move down his chest, just as there's no hiding how his own continue to stroke against her.
That has to stop though for the next part. The most important part, because once both belts are undone he'll have to lift his hips up. Get the damned trousers removed entirely, and he's all set to help in that mission when Sypha teases against the strain that has been building down below.
The groan that comes from it is pressed into her mouth, shaky and unsteady and utterly thrilled. It's unfair, and in retaliation, he finally breaks the kiss.
Of course, there's no other word said than a breathy sigh of her name, along with his hips finally rising to have pants done away with once and for all.]
[It's a shiver that races down her spine, causing her thigh to twitch under his caress, and oh... It's a heady noise, as he gets there quicker than Sypha might have expected, given his tortoise speed earlier, but perhaps it is that shift. No more banter about surrender and gummy armies, or negotiations. He does always seem so poised, almost as if not a hair would be out of place. A tall figure, golden halo of hair and peak physical physique. It is why Sypha likes to see those cracks, to push, although with Trevor is takes far less push to get a reaction. Her boys are both unique in their own ways though, and she loves them for it.
Her pleasure continues to be hummed against his lips, trying to remain still, although those deft fingers of his make it very difficult. And maybe it's her turn to give a little growl of frustration, cursing their attire, but she's almost there, and she's not one to give up. He's helping anyway, which she does take advantage of, arching her own body upwards as he breaks the kiss. She's breathless, flushed, and not ashamed at all by how aroused he has made her. She likes the way her name rolls of his lips, and she releases him before she tugs at the fabric, working his pants down over his hips, down his thighs, and that's good enough, no?
Well, maybe she shouldn't leave it half finished, although she is more than happy to have him right then and there. She can taste him still as her tongue darts across her lips, her heartbeat quick and fast, pulse lively as she pulls as far as she can, leaving them just at his knees.]
There are races where men wear skirt-like clothing.. Perhaps I should look in to that.
[A cheeky grin as she leans forward to plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose. But her expression does soften, those blue eyes warm and welcoming as her face tilts. One hand returns to his hair, and now, surprisingly, it is her turn to shift gears, to tease and toy with small chaste kisses around his mouth.]
They go naked beneath them, you know.
[As her other hand shifts, to run her index finger along his length, circling at the tip, before she takes hold of him again.]
[The pace before had all been for show, really, to highlight the absurdity of the entire situation and to see how far they could push each other before...well. Before this. Alucard knows he exists in a constant state of wanting to go slower with the other two because they leave and time is to be savored, but it is that same absence that always sees him want to go faster when rubber hits the road. There's no good balance of those desires.
He's aware that his hair must be getting messy under Sypha's touch. Good. Let it, because there are only two people he will ever be so undone for. It's wonderful to have that kind of security, just as it is wonderful to hear all of the wonderful notes of pleasure and approval being hummed against him. It's encouragement for him to keep at it, which Alucard does with far too much enthusiasm.
Sypha's beautiful when she arches up, the flushed face suiting her in the moment far too well. He smiles up at her, but there's no note of triumph there in casing such noise - only stupid adoration, fully aware of how perfect she looks.
He's sure he must look quite the sight now too, naked until one hits his knees, breathless and flushed. None of that changes as Sypha's kisses start to pour in, and his hand stills, trying to adjust to her new position.]
That seems like you're looking out for your best interests alon--
[The word morphs into a low, content moan as Sypha takes him in hand entirely. His hips strain to stay still.]
[It is a sight that Sypha would like to capture and freeze, to view again at her leisure. She loves him as he is, of course, and wouldn't change a hair on his head despite how bossy she might get at times, but it is nice to see him loosen up. Well, in some ways, anyway, with that tousled look that might otherwise have her giggling if he walked in to a room just like that.
It is the build up that keeps it away, acknowledgment of how her fingers had roamed through those long locks and received those joyful noises. Her own smile is soft and tender in turn, awareness of him blooming through her as she regards him. He could well pass for an angel, but for the fact that he is a dhampir.
There is a playful laugh though, as he might argue that she was looking out for her own interests, but she knows that his own interests would be suited as well. She leans back a little, butt resting firmer against his thighs as she hums in pretend contemplation. Yet still her hand idly strokes him, fingers dancing along the almost velvety soft skin in her grap.]
Mm. To think of all the things that you could have asked for instead...
[The flash of her eyes though says it is too late for him to press for more, to barter harder, as he has already revealed his hand and there is no taking it back now.]
Would you not like me to go naked under such a skirt?
[It's a simple truth, and so much easier for him to say now. If Alucard was to be honest with himself, he'd admit that from the outset of realizing what he must do to stop his father's madness, he suspected that he may never well be happy again.
But here, now, in the heat of the moment, that's hardly the time and place to think of Dracula. There's warmth starting to radiate out of him, the kind that only ever comes with arousal given how unique his physiology is. There's no hiding the new roll of his hips at Sypha leans back on his thighs, hand not quite veering into tease territory but feeling awfully close.]
And I would. But it'd also be in the interest of fairness, since I presume the no undergarments rule would apply to both myself and Trevor.
[It's a notion that threatens to veer into silliness, so Alucard tries to readjust the course. One hand moves up to brazenly take her breast, careful with the pressure that's being applied. The other dares to move beyond simply stroking at her folds, moving downward to assess her own enjoyment of the situation.]
[The smile beams on her face, free hand moving to cup his cheek in response to his admission. It's so easy to remember the first day that all three of them met, and to see how far they have come from that point. Yet that delicate flush creeps back along her own face, quivering above him as her body responds to his. Her breaths are deeper, quicker.]
Mm. Of course, for I would not have it any other way.
[Still her voice is low, thicker with desire with each passing moment. That moan tumbles out again, eye lids flickering closed as she pants, and forget skirts and undergarments and gummy bears. It's her turn to grind forward against his touch, for she is more than ready to welcome him.
It's that hooded gaze as she shifts forward, hand slipping away from his face, to swat his hand away. It's not lack of desire or want that cause it, but rather that Sypha's lifting her hips, stroking him although it is clear that he needs no further encouragement, just as she doesn't. Her fingers curl on to his, humming her pleasure at his hand on her breast. squeezing.]
I want you.
[As if that much is not clear as she guides him to her, slowly descending until the tip of his length parts her folds. It's only then that her hand departs and her body continues that grinding motion down, a needy whimper as she takes him in.]
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Sypha does manage to keep her balance, and may have kept it far longer out of sheer stubbornness had she known his mind. She doesn't, but it is pleasant from here, feeling the silken texture of his hair slip through her fingers, to have the steady firmness of his chest by hers. He is a very handsome individual, and there is no denying that.
Her lips do brush teasingly over his, once, twice, before that thick voice hums, mouth still hovering over his.]
See. Showing is better than telling, no?
[Although what can Sypha say. She is greedy, and her terms are far from met as she lowers herself to rest on his lap.]
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[Alucard's smile is razor sharp, aware that they've both reached the same conclusion about where this is probably going to end. It's hardly the first time the library's bore witness to this, and it won't be the last.
He does pull back though, because it is far better for him to bury his face into her shoulder. To use one hand to tug at fabric, exposing skin, and then apply a flurry of kisses to what he can reach. It means that there's more hair for Sypha to take in hand, and that some of it falls down and out, brushing against her chest, a few flyaways sticking to the fabric of the sofa itself.
What he isn't kissing (and never kisses without explicit permission) is her neck.]
then my internet goes down and my laptop decides to update
No doubt some may look upon him with horror due to his lineage, and Sypha knows a thing about that. All three of them have been judged by false beliefs, and in their cases, they couldn't be further from the truth. She's seen him fight, that raw strength and poise, and yet he is as delicate and gentle now as a lamb. One with sharp pointy fangs, mind...
Her hand does turn, to stroke down those golden threads, only to reach up again, fingers pressing against the nape of his neck. It is those small pleasurable noises that slip past her lips as she squirms on Alucard's lap. Her hand comes free from his shirt, to join the other one in his hair, and while he may skirt around her neck, Sypha trusts him wholly. It is why her head lolls to the side and her fingers press ever so, guiding, but not demanding, permission granted but not forced.]
WELP. and now im heading to bed so UNTIL TOMORROW....
He moves from shoulder to neck with a slow, careful trail of kisses that linger in each spot for almost a moment too long. That's on purpose too, because Alucard still wants to hold a few cards in this thing that's still, in theory, a negoation.
Having Sypha squirm in place is cruel though, because what it provokes is a half roll of his hips. That was a tool for later, to be strategically used for effect rather than used so early on.]
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Sypha gives that soft moan as he meanders, taking his bloody awful time, and she debates whether to give ground and force her hand, or sit back. It is hard at times to see what reaction she can obtain from him, as he tends towards stoic, but there... His body responds on kind to her own instinctual movements, her legs squeezing ever so as she finds her breath hitching with that upward roll of his.
She gives that hum, nails scraping over his scalp as one hand glides down the length of his hair, giving a small tug before releasing. Yet that hand isn't idle or passive, dragging down his chest, twitching as his lips press. Her fingers twist, pulling the hem of his shirt up, until her thumb can skim along his abdomen.
They are of two different minds, not that Sypha actually has qualms about his leisurely pace. It is nice, and does bring a flush to her cheeks, but so does giving another downward roll of her hips, grinding circular.]
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Still, his progress is careful and measured, because to kiss up Sypha's neck and ending just below her jawline is something worth doing slowly. Not just because of all the wonderful noises she makes and the way he can feel every one of them while he is pressed so close against her, but because against her neck, Alucard can feel the change in her heartrate. There's such a thrill to it that he should be ashamed, but oh no. This is pure delight for him.
A warm hand against cool flesh gets a deep sigh out of him, one too besotted to function for a moment. He's still pressed against her neck, but that is changing now, as he must ask one question:]
General. [Because this is still sort of a negotiation.] Is the loss of my shirt a part of your terms?
[He has to absolutely control his hips to not respond to any provocation.]
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He is very distracting, especially as he seems to be covering every inch of her flesh with his mouth. Her voice gives a measure of calm, but the flush on her skin and the measure of her heartbeat claim others.]
Mhmm. The gummy army demands some territories to be surrendered.
[Like his shirt, to begin with... Other items are certain to follow, as she moves to draw the fabric slowly up, fingers exploring his skin as if it were unexplored land and she needed to memorize the lay of it. Of course she has seen him before, has been with him before, but it never gets old or tiresome.]
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[Alucard withdraws his hands in full, raising them up over his head so that removing his shirt is easier for Sypha. It is important, in negotiations, to be helpful about such things.]
And in examining the territories underneath, what is to be found?
[It is a little awkward, being positioned like this. It isn't a hardship though, because for all of Sypha's time, there is a chance to luxuriate in her touches.]
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Her body contorts, leaning forward to brush a kiss against his chest. It's her turn now to take her time, trailing them upwards, until her lips dart along his collar bone, a small nip. She works it as a co-ordinated attack, moving the shirt over Alucard's head just as her lips nibble at his neck. She does pause, mouth vibrating in a hum, contemplating.]
Oh, just what kinds of resources I have now gained.
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Oh, all the kisses to his chest and upward were wonderful, without a doubt lovely, but it's that nibbler and the sensation of vibration that follows that gets a near maidenly sigh out of him.]
I feel that it might be disproportionate.
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Oh? Hmm. And how would you like to amend that?
[Drawing her face away again, to glance up at him.]
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Amend, amend....Alucard considers this as one of his hands moves all too carefully to take Sypha's breast, to squeeze it with the same measured consideration that all other actions have had so far. It is coupled with him leaning forward, a slight smirk across his features.]
The removal of your shirt as well seems fair.
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A catch in her breath before she swallows gingerly though, surprised as his hand finds her breath, and yes, that is quite lovely. Her lips part, tongue caught between her teeth and oh! Her eyes narrow, not failing to note that smirk. That small huff as she wiggles, purposefully pressing down with her thigh to create friction. There's nothing accidental about that, nor about her leaning forward, pressing her breath harder in to his grasp.]
Fair? I seem to recall that you were taken, surrounded, caught unawares!
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[There's a laugh in Alucard's voice as he says it, aware that this entire exchange is both downright ridiculous and far too arousing, which it has no right to be in the first place. He's much too content with the flow of events, the ebb and tide of exchange, how the pretense of negotiations egg them both on.
His fingers react automatically as Sypha presses against Alucard's hand. Through the fabric, they grasp on harder, then move so that the pads of them drag fabric over Sypha's breast for a new form of friction. One passes oh too lightly over her nipple as a happy accident, but when his hand moves the opposite direction, that pass over is so very deliberate.
Pressing down against his thigh though? That's playing dirty, and Alucard makes a deliberate attempt to not respond to it, even as his hips try to rebel against that control. His own face has whisps of color in the cheeks, but the smirk? That's still there.]
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[An emphasis is placed on the want, drawing that word out as she gives him that heated look, although the laughter in his tone has her huffing a little. It fades as quickly as it comes though, as of course he isn't just going to idly sit there and let her boss him around, at least not completely... She can feel the goosebumps start to rise over her skin, knowing that nothing he is doing is accidental.
It's heat that flushes to her core as his thumb teases, drawing her nipple to a perk, and yes, she would have to admit that it is completely lovely, but it could be better still.]
But perhaps you have persuaded me...
[That low purr to her voice and she makes no effort to remain still, hips continuing to slowly rock, liking the friction of their two bodies pressing together, of the surety of his grip, the controlled manner in which his hand moves. She slowly moves back, weight shifting to grind harder down, thighs tightening to keep herself steady as her hands leave him, to slowly tug her own shirt upwards. It is a quick of an eyebrow, arousal clear on her features as her eyes never leave his.]
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[The smart ass response of how is that different from normal? goes unsaid, and everyone is all the better for it. Alucard knows that it would ruin this absolutely lovely, wonderful perfect moment. Besides, he'd hate himself for destroying the chance to look at Sypha like this.
She's wonderful. Beautiful. As bright as the flames she summons forth, and oh isn't that the greatest irony of this situation? He and Trevor have been far too scarred by fire in their lives, and yet their greatest love is Sypha who burns all too brightly.
This time when Sypha's hips rock against him, Alucard does respond. The motion is smooth and controlled and drawn out, pressing up and against her with the sureity of a wave moving across the ocean. And that's all fine and good, until the grinding gets an honest to God moan out of him that is completely unfair.
He watches carefully as Sypha's hands withdraw. As they take off her shirt, and there's a flush of pink to his cheeks that on anyone else would be a bright and burning red. There's a sigh that leaves him, unsteady and hitched, but oh, they're even now and that gives him a new opening.
The shirt's gone, and that means Alucard can lean in and press his lips to the spaces where his hands were only moments before. Oh, it means no more eye contact, for his head is now bowed low as he presses kiss after kiss after kiss to her breast, never lingering in one place. It's a race to see how long it takes to cover every inch of skin in affection now, and there's such joy in the action that it's clear he has forgotten the nonsense set up of all of this.]
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And yet she doesn't quite expect him to move as quickly as he does.
Not that she is complaining in the least as her moan is louder as he peppers kisses across her skin. That needy noise as Sypha leans forward, hands threading in to his hair, kneading along his scalp. If he means to break her apart, he may well yet do so.]
Alucard...
[Her grip tightens as he explores her with a thoroughness she had promised, lighting her body up and sending fires burning all throughout. There's no measure to the way her body rides his, hips gyrating, drawing him out and along to meet her. There's nothing typical about them, about the relationship that they have all formed, but Sypha could say that nothing makes more sense than this.]
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He's been using one hand to simply hold onto Sypha, and now the other one moves downward. There's no care to it, not like before, only a speed that is in line with the intensity that they've made for themselves. That hand grabs onto Sypha's thigh with no small amount of enthusiasm, then slides up with all too clear purpose.
Alucard's mouth hasn't returned to smothering Sypha's chest with kisses, but that's only because a practical matter has to be taken care of first.]
We should be rid of anything else.
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[A catch 22 there, as she likes him right where he is, and doesn't want him to move, but also that little hindrance of the rest of their attire. A pity there had been no spell for the removal of clothing in the Belmont library, given the nature of some of the items items she had found, as Sypha would have worked on that until she had mastered it. No, there is no such luck.
Her own hands glide, his locks like silk between her fingers, until she cups his cheeks, angling his face upwards to meet her own downward kiss. There's nothing chaste about it, although there is a tenderness, something that transmits all her affection towards him, her love and devotion.
Yet her fingers drop from his face, letting her kisses keep him there, as they brush down his chest, feeling the bump of his ribs, skirting around his abdomen, until they find his pants. He looks quite nice in them, but better still without them as her fingers search for those all too familiar items that are in her way. One buckle, than the other, for his belts, giving a little nip in to the kiss as her palm brushes over his lap, before her fingers move to start the process of removing his pants.
She'll have to rise, she knows, but not quite yet as her hand moves. Teasing again against that bulge, she gives a light rub before she takes a detour, slipping his hand beneath the waist band. That hum against his lips as she finds him, fingers circling around his length.]
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[It's a hardship, yes, but one that's worth enduring for where it leaves them both. There's a happy sigh at knowing the hardship for what it is, and one that's soon swallowed by far more powerful and important forces.
With Sypha's hands guiding him to look upwards, Alucard's lower hand remains steadfast in it's work. It moves to where hip and thigh meet, then towards the center, daring to stroke through undergarments, and that's all while Sypha angles his head up.
The kiss that Sypha takes from him is given with such surrender that it shouldn't be possible, and yet here he is, all but melted in her hands. There's no chasteness in his response either, there is only deep and fierce need for more. More of this. More of her. More of this moment.
He stays where he's bidden, matching intensity for intensity. There's no hiding how he shivers and arcs upward under Sypha's touch as her fingers move down his chest, just as there's no hiding how his own continue to stroke against her.
That has to stop though for the next part. The most important part, because once both belts are undone he'll have to lift his hips up. Get the damned trousers removed entirely, and he's all set to help in that mission when Sypha teases against the strain that has been building down below.
The groan that comes from it is pressed into her mouth, shaky and unsteady and utterly thrilled. It's unfair, and in retaliation, he finally breaks the kiss.
Of course, there's no other word said than a breathy sigh of her name, along with his hips finally rising to have pants done away with once and for all.]
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Her pleasure continues to be hummed against his lips, trying to remain still, although those deft fingers of his make it very difficult. And maybe it's her turn to give a little growl of frustration, cursing their attire, but she's almost there, and she's not one to give up. He's helping anyway, which she does take advantage of, arching her own body upwards as he breaks the kiss. She's breathless, flushed, and not ashamed at all by how aroused he has made her. She likes the way her name rolls of his lips, and she releases him before she tugs at the fabric, working his pants down over his hips, down his thighs, and that's good enough, no?
Well, maybe she shouldn't leave it half finished, although she is more than happy to have him right then and there. She can taste him still as her tongue darts across her lips, her heartbeat quick and fast, pulse lively as she pulls as far as she can, leaving them just at his knees.]
There are races where men wear skirt-like clothing.. Perhaps I should look in to that.
[A cheeky grin as she leans forward to plant a light kiss on the tip of his nose. But her expression does soften, those blue eyes warm and welcoming as her face tilts. One hand returns to his hair, and now, surprisingly, it is her turn to shift gears, to tease and toy with small chaste kisses around his mouth.]
They go naked beneath them, you know.
[As her other hand shifts, to run her index finger along his length, circling at the tip, before she takes hold of him again.]
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He's aware that his hair must be getting messy under Sypha's touch. Good. Let it, because there are only two people he will ever be so undone for. It's wonderful to have that kind of security, just as it is wonderful to hear all of the wonderful notes of pleasure and approval being hummed against him. It's encouragement for him to keep at it, which Alucard does with far too much enthusiasm.
Sypha's beautiful when she arches up, the flushed face suiting her in the moment far too well. He smiles up at her, but there's no note of triumph there in casing such noise - only stupid adoration, fully aware of how perfect she looks.
He's sure he must look quite the sight now too, naked until one hits his knees, breathless and flushed. None of that changes as Sypha's kisses start to pour in, and his hand stills, trying to adjust to her new position.]
That seems like you're looking out for your best interests alon--
[The word morphs into a low, content moan as Sypha takes him in hand entirely. His hips strain to stay still.]
Would you also go naked under the same skirts?
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It is the build up that keeps it away, acknowledgment of how her fingers had roamed through those long locks and received those joyful noises. Her own smile is soft and tender in turn, awareness of him blooming through her as she regards him. He could well pass for an angel, but for the fact that he is a dhampir.
There is a playful laugh though, as he might argue that she was looking out for her own interests, but she knows that his own interests would be suited as well. She leans back a little, butt resting firmer against his thighs as she hums in pretend contemplation. Yet still her hand idly strokes him, fingers dancing along the almost velvety soft skin in her grap.]
Mm. To think of all the things that you could have asked for instead...
[The flash of her eyes though says it is too late for him to press for more, to barter harder, as he has already revealed his hand and there is no taking it back now.]
Would you not like me to go naked under such a skirt?
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[It's a simple truth, and so much easier for him to say now. If Alucard was to be honest with himself, he'd admit that from the outset of realizing what he must do to stop his father's madness, he suspected that he may never well be happy again.
But here, now, in the heat of the moment, that's hardly the time and place to think of Dracula. There's warmth starting to radiate out of him, the kind that only ever comes with arousal given how unique his physiology is. There's no hiding the new roll of his hips at Sypha leans back on his thighs, hand not quite veering into tease territory but feeling awfully close.]
And I would. But it'd also be in the interest of fairness, since I presume the no undergarments rule would apply to both myself and Trevor.
[It's a notion that threatens to veer into silliness, so Alucard tries to readjust the course. One hand moves up to brazenly take her breast, careful with the pressure that's being applied. The other dares to move beyond simply stroking at her folds, moving downward to assess her own enjoyment of the situation.]
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Mm. Of course, for I would not have it any other way.
[Still her voice is low, thicker with desire with each passing moment. That moan tumbles out again, eye lids flickering closed as she pants, and forget skirts and undergarments and gummy bears. It's her turn to grind forward against his touch, for she is more than ready to welcome him.
It's that hooded gaze as she shifts forward, hand slipping away from his face, to swat his hand away. It's not lack of desire or want that cause it, but rather that Sypha's lifting her hips, stroking him although it is clear that he needs no further encouragement, just as she doesn't. Her fingers curl on to his, humming her pleasure at his hand on her breast. squeezing.]
I want you.
[As if that much is not clear as she guides him to her, slowly descending until the tip of his length parts her folds. It's only then that her hand departs and her body continues that grinding motion down, a needy whimper as she takes him in.]
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