[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.]
[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.]
[It's divine, that moment when their bodies meet, and it feels again like she might shatter from it. She sinks, that last little thrust meeting his, to bind them together suddenly with another little moan parting her lips. Light dances across her closed eyelids, taking that moment to settle comfortably there, poised in an almost stillness around him.
Yet her mouth quirks as she guides his linked hand to her other hip before her hands slip over his shoulders. Around his neck does she play and tease, before her fingers twine together and she's leaning toward him to grace his lips with a light brush. ]
Ah, but I have you exactly how I want you.
[It vibrates softly from her throat as her eyes catch his, holding for a heart beat. But then she's moving, hips swaying beneath his touch, to rise upwards, feeling him draw ever so from her, before that downward thrust drives him back home.]
[Alucard's eyes threaten to shut, so he can focus on every other sensation, but he doesn't allow for it. The greatest part of all of this is getting to watch Sypha, watching her react, memorizing every movement that gets wonderful, perfect noises from her.
Like this, they can wrap around each other as completely as possible. Let limbs tangle, let chests be flush against each other, take advantage of every little thing. With his hands on her hips now, Alucard leans forward just as her lips touch his.]
Then I'll continue to let you lead.
[Because that's a delight too, putting his complete and utter trust in Sypha like this. He'd never feel comfortable with that outside Sypha and Trevor, and it too is testament to how far they've come from that first meeting under Gresit.
He scoots forward on the sofa just a little so that if Sypha's legs wish to wrap around his waist, they can. From there, all Alucard can do is continue to thrust in careful, controlled ways, because this? He doesn't want it over.
But he refuses to keep both hands on her hips. His left moves, resting just above where they meet so that every time Sypha grinds down, there is pressure against her clit. It'd be unfair and wrong for only his needs to be addressed.]
[There's that acceptance in her eyes, knowing just what that means for him to admit that, although, she certainly has no qualms to any suggestions. It is for the both of them, after all, despite the whole being conquered by her treats earlier. Sypha would openly admit that she does like this position, riding him as she will. The friction of her breasts rubbing against his chest with each bounce has little sparks igniting throughout, leaving her nipples hard.
She doesn't need a verbal either, taking that cue as her legs stretch, and oh, how delightful is that as the angle subtly changes, sinking him deeper in to her. Her thighs tighten, squeeze, head rolling back for a moment to simply savour the pleasure that trickles along her spine and makes her toes curl.
Yet when his fingers find her, her head snaps back, and tighter does her grip turn, and harder do her walls clench around him.]
Alucard...
[It's almost a protest, but her hands are shifting through his hair again and her mouth is claiming his with hard wanting kisses. It's harder that her hips roll, legs squeezing in conjunction with each downward movement, and she may very well need to brush his hair for him later with how her fingers work and tug and tease. It's lips and tongue and teeth, moans whimpered in praise and pleasure as her back arches, pressing her torso harder against his.]
[There's a follow up, or something of the sort that tries to come out, but that attempt and everything that follows after is muted by Sypha's kisses. Alucard can hardly protest that, and he responds in kind with an uncontrolled wildness that sees fang threaten to catch tongue a few times. Nothing ever comes of it though, and every moment Alucard breaks apart for air, his breath is heavier and heavier.
With Sypha wrapped so firmly around him, their chests flush against each other, that same heavy breath is obvious elsewhere too. At some point, he breaks for air again, but his mouth does not return to hers. Instead, there is a serious of furious kisses down the column of Sypha's neck, moving far too fast for the sensation to be appreciated one-by-one. Alucard doesn't stop until he has reached the swell of her breasts (the angle is a little awkward for him, but who cares), and there the kisses remain. They're hot and heady and lingering, each new kiss being punctuated by a thrust of his hips, each heavy breath pressed against Sypha's skin.]
[She'd sing his praises some more, but Sypha isn't much of a singer. It is a reckless abandon, not truly caring it his fangs to catch her skin. She knows that he isn't some starved monster that will pounce on her, or at least not to eat her- or rather, kill her, as his mouth has certainly done some clever things before that had made her call out.]
Harder.
[It's the answer when their lips do part, looking quite thoroughly handled with parted lips and blown pupils. Yet it's that pliant mewl that purrs out as he sets out exploring, and gasps and moans leave with no care who hears, even if it's hardly a public place. Her fingers are on his scalp again, blunt nails scratching as he showers her with kisses. Her breasts do rise and fall, both from those quickening breaths and the fervor in which her body now responds, bouncing ever so as he meets her each time, to sink himself to the hilt.]
I'm not- [It's laboured now, cheeks flushed as her eyes close yet again, tangling her fingers through his locks. She hadn't been lying in her quest for harder, as she's being nudged towards that edge, but she's greedy and wants more, wants to fall over and drag him with her. His exhales bring goosebumps to her flesh, and she squeezes tightly each time his length enters, small noises that may well be please hummed.]
[Harder she says, and Alucard does his very best to comply. He's not fool enough to speed everything up all at once either - it is a matter that increases with every roll of his hips upwards, his breath catching. He can feel how tightly Sypha is wrapped around him, how wonderful and warm and perfect that feeling is, and there's a euphoria that goes with the realization.
As Sypha's fingers scratch into his hair, there are heavier, headier breaths that escape. This is too much. All of it is too much in the best, happiest, most overwhelming, wonderful way. With that there is a warmth starting to build in the pit of his stomach, the kind that only comes with arousal and completion of the act.
They're both terribly close, aren't they?
Alucard picks his head up from the madness of kisses, face angled up and looking at Sypha with all the happiness of now reflected in his eyes. He's close. He's close and she'll probably want to see that finish, so let her.]
[He knows, he know perfectly just what she desires, and more than happily gives it to her. There is that barrier to him, a bridge that is not always drawn down, but there is also generosity to him. It's precious, those little things that make him him.
She meets him, matching the pace that he sets, chasing after that release that draws ever closer. It's heavily hooded eyes that keep hold of Alucard's, as he isn't wrong. She dearly loves to watch those emotions roll across his face, the vulnerability that he is willing to share in it. And as much as she wants her own release, she isn't entirely greedy and oh, how she does love to watch his hit him.
Her forehead rests against his, those low moans and soft pants a song from her, proof of her own pleasures. And yet she pushes, driving him on, pushes him as she squeezes with intent with her walls around him each time he buries deep, legs adding to that as she adds that small grinding circular motion. Her lips ghost over his, light as an angel's wings as pushes. Harder, deeper, faster.]
[It feels so good, resting forehead against forehead, shameless in muting none of their noises. The wonderful things coming out of Sypha's mouth only serve to draw quicker, shorter breaths from Alucard. They shorten even more as she squeezes, grinds, moves in every way. There's tension blossoming from deep in the pit of Alucard now, and there's no point in attempting a delay.
The short, quick breaths become sudden shudders, the moan of absolute pleasure and release drawing up from somewhere in his stomach and steadily blossoming outwards all at once. Alucard arches forward, aware he's already pressed as close as he can be against Sypha yet still trying, the warmth and stickiness of sweat serving only to bind them closer together.
It crescendos into one loud shout, Alucard trying his absolute best to say something intelligent as he does. Unsurprisingly, the dhampir fails, and all that he manages in addition to being incredibly noisy is a look of absolute bliss over his face, eyes half-open yet clearly focused on Sypha, smile tugging at his lips, fangs just barely visible.]
[And there, there it is, that all but divine moment when Sypha catches that shift in expression. It's sheer stubbornness and determination that has kept her going now, tongue between her two teeth as she murmurs. It is almost as if two may become one, that moment, feeling him cling to her even as she clings to him.
The shout earns a quiver that ripples through her body, that has her toes curling and her grip tightening. He is lovely in that moment of surrender, pure pleasure painted across his features as she continues to rock her own hips, waiting, waiting, until that last possible moment.
It's harder, that shudder that arches through her, that has her breaking contact and burrowing her face against his neck. Those soft pants and whimpers are lost against his skin as her walls clamp around him and her legs tense. Hot breaths are gasped against his skin, that sharp circular motion of her hips, as if to squeeze him for everything he may give.
And yet no matter how hard she may try to make time stop, to remain in that moment of lightning and fire kissing her skin and sparking her senses, that rise has crested, has fallen, that sated lull seeking to wrap her in its embrace. Her face turns, hands cupping his cheeks again, to place a tender kiss against his lips, mindful of those fangs, as she hums her happiness.]
[Alucard struggles as exhaustion tries to claim him. He can't stop moving until Sypha's done, nothing's allowed until that happens, and so for a few precious moments yet, his hips still rock up, up, up.
It's adrenaline that powers him, along with the heat of Sypha's noises and her breath against his skin. All of this, all of it is perfect, and the only crime involved is that he cannot see her face as she finishes.
Oh, but the look on her face after makes up for it. It's beautiful, practically ringed by a halo of light. He sighs in turn, a soft laugh following the kiss.]
Sypha.
[He utters her name with all the adoration in the world, happiness beaming up.]
[It's acknowledgment of her name, although she doesn't quite have her voice back yet. That's fine, as this is fine. It's perfectly wonderful as her hands slip back down to rest over his shoulders, lazily stroking along his broad back.
Her smile is one of sheer pleasure, glad to have driven that sadness away for a time. Step by step, day by day, they'll fill the void, until it no longer exists as it has. He's as worthy and deserving of love as all of them, and Sypha will continue to remind and show him that until her dying day.]
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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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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?
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Yet her mouth quirks as she guides his linked hand to her other hip before her hands slip over his shoulders. Around his neck does she play and tease, before her fingers twine together and she's leaning toward him to grace his lips with a light brush. ]
Ah, but I have you exactly how I want you.
[It vibrates softly from her throat as her eyes catch his, holding for a heart beat. But then she's moving, hips swaying beneath his touch, to rise upwards, feeling him draw ever so from her, before that downward thrust drives him back home.]
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Like this, they can wrap around each other as completely as possible. Let limbs tangle, let chests be flush against each other, take advantage of every little thing. With his hands on her hips now, Alucard leans forward just as her lips touch his.]
Then I'll continue to let you lead.
[Because that's a delight too, putting his complete and utter trust in Sypha like this. He'd never feel comfortable with that outside Sypha and Trevor, and it too is testament to how far they've come from that first meeting under Gresit.
He scoots forward on the sofa just a little so that if Sypha's legs wish to wrap around his waist, they can. From there, all Alucard can do is continue to thrust in careful, controlled ways, because this? He doesn't want it over.
But he refuses to keep both hands on her hips. His left moves, resting just above where they meet so that every time Sypha grinds down, there is pressure against her clit. It'd be unfair and wrong for only his needs to be addressed.]
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She doesn't need a verbal either, taking that cue as her legs stretch, and oh, how delightful is that as the angle subtly changes, sinking him deeper in to her. Her thighs tighten, squeeze, head rolling back for a moment to simply savour the pleasure that trickles along her spine and makes her toes curl.
Yet when his fingers find her, her head snaps back, and tighter does her grip turn, and harder do her walls clench around him.]
Alucard...
[It's almost a protest, but her hands are shifting through his hair again and her mouth is claiming his with hard wanting kisses. It's harder that her hips roll, legs squeezing in conjunction with each downward movement, and she may very well need to brush his hair for him later with how her fingers work and tug and tease. It's lips and tongue and teeth, moans whimpered in praise and pleasure as her back arches, pressing her torso harder against his.]
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[There's a follow up, or something of the sort that tries to come out, but that attempt and everything that follows after is muted by Sypha's kisses. Alucard can hardly protest that, and he responds in kind with an uncontrolled wildness that sees fang threaten to catch tongue a few times. Nothing ever comes of it though, and every moment Alucard breaks apart for air, his breath is heavier and heavier.
With Sypha wrapped so firmly around him, their chests flush against each other, that same heavy breath is obvious elsewhere too. At some point, he breaks for air again, but his mouth does not return to hers. Instead, there is a serious of furious kisses down the column of Sypha's neck, moving far too fast for the sensation to be appreciated one-by-one. Alucard doesn't stop until he has reached the swell of her breasts (the angle is a little awkward for him, but who cares), and there the kisses remain. They're hot and heady and lingering, each new kiss being punctuated by a thrust of his hips, each heavy breath pressed against Sypha's skin.]
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Harder.
[It's the answer when their lips do part, looking quite thoroughly handled with parted lips and blown pupils. Yet it's that pliant mewl that purrs out as he sets out exploring, and gasps and moans leave with no care who hears, even if it's hardly a public place. Her fingers are on his scalp again, blunt nails scratching as he showers her with kisses. Her breasts do rise and fall, both from those quickening breaths and the fervor in which her body now responds, bouncing ever so as he meets her each time, to sink himself to the hilt.]
I'm not- [It's laboured now, cheeks flushed as her eyes close yet again, tangling her fingers through his locks. She hadn't been lying in her quest for harder, as she's being nudged towards that edge, but she's greedy and wants more, wants to fall over and drag him with her. His exhales bring goosebumps to her flesh, and she squeezes tightly each time his length enters, small noises that may well be please hummed.]
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As Sypha's fingers scratch into his hair, there are heavier, headier breaths that escape. This is too much. All of it is too much in the best, happiest, most overwhelming, wonderful way. With that there is a warmth starting to build in the pit of his stomach, the kind that only comes with arousal and completion of the act.
They're both terribly close, aren't they?
Alucard picks his head up from the madness of kisses, face angled up and looking at Sypha with all the happiness of now reflected in his eyes. He's close. He's close and she'll probably want to see that finish, so let her.]
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She meets him, matching the pace that he sets, chasing after that release that draws ever closer. It's heavily hooded eyes that keep hold of Alucard's, as he isn't wrong. She dearly loves to watch those emotions roll across his face, the vulnerability that he is willing to share in it. And as much as she wants her own release, she isn't entirely greedy and oh, how she does love to watch his hit him.
Her forehead rests against his, those low moans and soft pants a song from her, proof of her own pleasures. And yet she pushes, driving him on, pushes him as she squeezes with intent with her walls around him each time he buries deep, legs adding to that as she adds that small grinding circular motion. Her lips ghost over his, light as an angel's wings as pushes. Harder, deeper, faster.]
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The short, quick breaths become sudden shudders, the moan of absolute pleasure and release drawing up from somewhere in his stomach and steadily blossoming outwards all at once. Alucard arches forward, aware he's already pressed as close as he can be against Sypha yet still trying, the warmth and stickiness of sweat serving only to bind them closer together.
It crescendos into one loud shout, Alucard trying his absolute best to say something intelligent as he does. Unsurprisingly, the dhampir fails, and all that he manages in addition to being incredibly noisy is a look of absolute bliss over his face, eyes half-open yet clearly focused on Sypha, smile tugging at his lips, fangs just barely visible.]
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The shout earns a quiver that ripples through her body, that has her toes curling and her grip tightening. He is lovely in that moment of surrender, pure pleasure painted across his features as she continues to rock her own hips, waiting, waiting, until that last possible moment.
It's harder, that shudder that arches through her, that has her breaking contact and burrowing her face against his neck. Those soft pants and whimpers are lost against his skin as her walls clamp around him and her legs tense. Hot breaths are gasped against his skin, that sharp circular motion of her hips, as if to squeeze him for everything he may give.
And yet no matter how hard she may try to make time stop, to remain in that moment of lightning and fire kissing her skin and sparking her senses, that rise has crested, has fallen, that sated lull seeking to wrap her in its embrace. Her face turns, hands cupping his cheeks again, to place a tender kiss against his lips, mindful of those fangs, as she hums her happiness.]
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It's adrenaline that powers him, along with the heat of Sypha's noises and her breath against his skin. All of this, all of it is perfect, and the only crime involved is that he cannot see her face as she finishes.
Oh, but the look on her face after makes up for it. It's beautiful, practically ringed by a halo of light. He sighs in turn, a soft laugh following the kiss.]
Sypha.
[He utters her name with all the adoration in the world, happiness beaming up.]
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[It's acknowledgment of her name, although she doesn't quite have her voice back yet. That's fine, as this is fine. It's perfectly wonderful as her hands slip back down to rest over his shoulders, lazily stroking along his broad back.
Her smile is one of sheer pleasure, glad to have driven that sadness away for a time. Step by step, day by day, they'll fill the void, until it no longer exists as it has. He's as worthy and deserving of love as all of them, and Sypha will continue to remind and show him that until her dying day.]
Perhaps the gummy army should invade more often.
[That low murmur with a glimmer in her eyes.]
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