goneforawalk | open rp post.

[ his laugh, happy and bright compared to the darker tones he often uses, makes her heart jump in a completely unhelpful way. she still glares at him when he pulls her hand away, even through the kiss he gives her, which is a sweet thing compared to the passion they've shared so far.

it doesn't matter how much her body keeps telling her she's ridiculously besotted with him though, she's still embarrassed, which always manifests as anger. yanking her hand out of his, she starts to adjust her glasses, before just pulling them off and shoving them onto the nightstand. maybe if she can't see him clearly, he won't infuriate her quite as much. (she knows this isn't true, as evidenced by all the times he's managed it through phone calls and text messages. she wouldn't have it any other way either, but she'll burn in hell before she admits it out loud.)

the question makes her blush, which in turn makes her purse her lips and transfer her glare from his face to over his right shoulder. ]

And just how long do you think I've wanted you? Perhaps this is a new development.

[ she really shouldn't ask, because he probably knows just how long. even she's not very sure, although she remembers clearly the day she was seventeen and realized she was physically attracted to him. but even before then, he was one of her closest confidantes. only walter could rival his place, but she'd always considered him family, he'd always been around. alucard came later, at just the right time for her to latch onto him as someone who understood that she was a girl transitioning into an adult's world. so it was natural to form a crush on him, but in one form or another... she thinks she's loved him always. ]

[ he just grins in response to her glare, which is absolutely characteristic of him, but there's open fondness in his gaze now. he's happy to infuriate her at times, because it means he gets her attention. he's hungry for that, even when it's negative, because she's never been cruel to him, no matter how frustrated with him she is.

she does look cute without glasses, but it's about as cute as she looks with glasses, so he doesn't have a preference as long as she's here, as long as she's his.

her question just broadens his grin. ]

I'm not blind, Integra.

[ this is not a joke about her eyesight, he promises. ]

I've seen it for a long time, but it was never appropriate as your servant to initiate things. Nor would it have been appropriate for you, as my master, to initiate things. I knew you wouldn't, because you would wonder always if I was only acting out of obligation, taking your overtures as an order. But now I'm free to do as I please, and what I please is...

[ he tips his head down, planting slow, affectionate kisses along the column of her throat with a hum. ]

Pleasing you. And I can't do that unless you tell me what you want.

I hate it when you talk sense.[ it's said with a gasp, his ministrations to her throat wholly distracting.

that's exactly what she needs, though, to be distracted from her own thoughts, so she can speak from instinct. he's always been good about knowing just what she needs. ]

I want your mouth. I want... [ she gasps a little, a small part of her scandalized at the thoughts she's barely even dared imagine, now about to be spoken, and she's sure will quickly be acted on. but she's urged on by the fact that she knows, she's sure, down to the marrow of her bones, that what she says is exactly what alucard will do. ]

I want you to-- to lick me open, to press your tongue against me and inside me, until I'm ready, and then I want you inside me.

It happens so rarely that it has a larger impact when I do, no? [ murmured against her skin.

the fact that she's finally opening up about it makes him feel a little triumphant, because he's gotten through to her. her words just make him all the more ravenous though, and his teeth scrape her throat but don't bite down. ]

I can do that, and gladly so. I've thought about slipping between your legs many times.

[ he says it lowly as he shifts above her, fingers deftly beginning to work at her buttons. there's so many, but he wants her naked before him, so he can drink in every inch of her.

he pauses by her cravat though, which he's been avoiding. ]

Integra. Take off your cross.

[ it's not a demand, but he can't particularly touch it without burning himself, and while he enjoys the pain, he'd rather not right now. it's always been her last defense against vampires, protecting her from them, those that can't even get close to them. alucard is different, slightly more immune to them, but he's interested in what she'll do, being without it entirely. ]

[ her whole body shivers, fingers clenching and legs jerking against him at hearing him say he's thought about the very thing she's asking for.

well, of course he has; she knows he has, as often as he's said sexually explicit things to her at completely inappropriate times. but just as he said, neither of them were free to act on anything, and he always seemed more amused than anything, she could usually almost convince herself he said it just to get a rise out of her rather than any other reason.

his fingers working at her shirt sends another shiver down her spine, and her back arches into his touch.

hearing her name makes her open her eyes, and at his request, she focuses on his face. integra tilts her head, regarding him solemnly for a moment, very reminiscent of when they first met, and she was trying to understand him. there's nothing judgmental or wary in her gaze, though, just contemplation.

slowly, she reaches past him, finds the pin securing the ornament and pulls it off. she holds it still at her throat for a moment, still watching him. ]

I'm not going to stop wearing it.

[ her voice is calm, almost serene. this interlude hasn't dampened her desire, but it brings home the fact just what they're doing. and what they'll continue doing in the future.

she reaches over and places the cross beside her glasses. it's not the largest sign of trust she's shown in him tonight, but it feels important, in a different way. perhaps because this time he asked, and she obeyed. ]

[ oh, he definitely means every vulgar thing he says. but if he put it out as joking, she could only get mad at him for it, which is fine, instead of thinking he was too overly invested. or whatever. because clearly his whole obsession thing is working out for him.

alucard watches integra quietly as she observes him, an idle smile playing over his features. he wonders a bit after what she'll do, but he's not going to take the initiative to remove something so personal himself, even if it didn't burn him to touch it.

when she takes it off he tilts his head, still smiling, just... observing. ]

I don't want you to stop wearing it, that would be ridiculous. But right now, I want you naked under me, and it's not my place to take it off of you.

[ the importance of her obeying his request isn't lost to him and it sends a thrill up his spine. he shakes his head a little to clear it, tugging at where her cravat is tied to tug it off and get at her throat properly to kiss it with a hum. he runs his tongue up the column of her throat too, hands still working at her shirt to get it off of her.

once it's open he dips a little lower, mouthing over her clavicle and looking up at her through his lashes. ]

[ even knowing full-well that he'd enjoyed infuriating her with his vulgarity, she'd always taken the bait and allowed him to get to her. just as he'd wanted from the beginning, he got under her skin, past her defenses before she'd had time to really even start building them, and she'd never been able to withstand his assaults, on her pride, or her embarrassment. he's always known which buttons to push with her, but she thinks she knows enough of his buttons as well to make it fair. ]

Would it be ridiculous? You always ask for too much, why should I assume now would be any different?

[ she lets her head fall back to allow him clearer access, her hands starting to move restlessly over whatever she can reach; into his hair, tugging at the roots, before moving over his neck, across the span of his shoulders and down, then back up his arms.

her shirt is unbuttoned before she realizes something with a frown. tilting her head, she catches his eye before plucking at his coat. ]

I don't want to be the only one undressed. But I'm not really sure if I undress you, or-- how "real" are your clothes?

[ she does know how to press his buttons in return, and he doesn't even mind it: what once felt like a game of cat and mouse is now simply a battle of wills, and it's always alucard that cows in the end, whether it be by seals or not. ]

I never ask for more than you could give me, Countess.

[ he smiles as he says it, against her skin. he's so pleased with every new expanse of skin he reveals that it takes him a moment to come back to earth to respond to her question. ]

They're as real as the rest of me. That is--they're a part of me, but they can behave like real clothing. I can change or remove them at will, though. [ with a wry smile. ] Either method works for me.

'Could' and 'will' give you are two-- [ her breath hitches as he hits a sensitive spot ] different things, Alucard.

[ their verbal back-and-forth, while quite often infuriating, has become their brand of foreplay, she's come to realize. now that they're actually being intimate, she doesn't want to stop talking to him, not entirely. it helps ground her, to remind her that while the physicality may be new, they've been heading toward this point for many years. ]

The rest of you can't be separated from-- [ she closes her eyes with a grimace ] --no, forget I said that. Can you just... make them disappear?

[ now that she's thinking about logistics, she's a little surprised he hasn't shredded any article of her clothing yet. she knows how he enjoys at least a touch of violence. she wonders if it's because this is new for them, and soon she'll have to start replacing clothes more rapidly than usual; or if he will always treat her reverently. ]

Still, you could.

[ he glances up at her with a sly smile, head canted aside. but then he returns to what he was doing with a hum, nipping idly at her abdomen near her navel. ]

I could. Do you want me to? How impatient.

[ he urges her to sit up a little so he can remove her shirt properly, then reaches behind her to deftly unclasp her bra with one hand. don't ask how he knows how to do that. as soon as that is off he dips his head again to mouth at the curve of her breast, teeth grazing dangerously but not catching.

his hands start to work at her pants, too, but he lets out a vaguely exasperated sigh. ]

You wear so much clothing.

[ perhaps he'll be ripping things sooner than she thinks. ]

[ the sigh she gives is both blissful from his ministrations, and exasperated at his question. ]

I want-- you to be comf--ortable. [ she mutters, breath hitching in anticipation as he starts on her pants. she laughs a little at his observation. ]

Says the vampire who habitually wears at least three layers all the time.

[ fine, if he wants to be difficult, she'll make things difficult. integra starts undoing his own cravat, working at the buttons of his vest and shirt. the more she does, the more she wants to reach him, to reveal more of his skin. her hands and arms naturally get in the way of what he's doing to her torso. ]

I'm always comfortable with you.

[ that's not what she meant, but it's kind of a sweet thing to say anyway. he's still unzipping her fly when she speaks next, and he lets out a low, rumbling laugh against her skin. ]

I'm shy and I need to cover up modestly.

[ he is NOT shy at all, he is just being a brat. but her arms are definitely getting in the way of him taking off her pants and he lets out a huff of air that might still be exasperated. he can't seem to tug them down cleanly without proper leverage, so he runs a sharp nail all the way down the side seam to practically her knee, severing the fabric while barely grazing her skin. he then does it on the other side too, and manages to get them off that way. ]

Hope you didn't like those too much.

[ a smile tugs at her lips, only for her to reach up and smack him lightly on the back of the head. ] You and shyness don't even share the same plane of existence.

[ she feels what he's doing, but it doesn't exactly register until her pants are off. suddenly she's sitting up, shoving him back and staring down at her bare legs before giving him a mild glare. ]

I wasn't more or less attached to them than most. But there will be consequences if you ever do that to my underwear.

[ underwear which, by the way, are matching bra and pantie sets, this pair in pale teal with subtle white lace trim. not overly feminine, but certainly more than her masculine attire would suggest.

thus saying, she hooks her fingers into the waistband and shimmies them down her hips and swiftly kicking them off. her knees naturally fall together afterward, because she doesn't consciously feel shy, but it's a little more exposure than she's used to. ]

No? I'm too shameless for the ploy to work. That said, I do like the look I normally provide. I don't care what I look like, but the suit is nice.

[ but then she's pushing him back and he stills like a deer in the headlights, deeply worried he's crossed a line that can't be uncrossed. he actually briefly looks stricken by it, until she speaks.

then his shoulders slump and he lets out a relieved laugh, shaking his head. ]

It's a good thing you said that, I was going to bite them off.

[ he snaps his teeth for emphasis, then watches her quietly as she pulls her panties down and off. he leans down, letting out a hum as he brushes his lips across her abdomen, hands grazing her thighs before his thumbs trace her hipbones. ]

You're beautiful.

[ he sounds so goddamn earnest as he says it. ]

I will bite your head off if you do. And I don't mean the one on top of your neck.

[ it's said forcefully, but she starts blushing nonetheless, more so as he starts touching her again, her legs falling open to give him more room. the blush spreads down her neck and over the top of her chest at his next words momentarily losing her breath. it's her turn to look a little like a deer in headlights, before her body goes just a little boneless. she slumps back to rest on her elbows, shifting until she can get her unbuttoned shirt and jacket off. ]

You're still wearing too many clothes. [ it's a muttered grumble, and frankly the only reason she even still cares is because she's persistent like that. ]

Is that a promise?

[ he's teasing, openly, and also being a little gross.

he scrapes his teeth along her hipbone this time, a little harder than his other drags of teeth, but still not breaking skin. he's always ravenous when it comes to her, and he's desperate to bite, but he doesn't. he behaves, even with her thighs right there.

but when she complains about his clothes he lofts an eyebrow at her, sitting up and moving to quickly shoulder off his duster, jacket, vest, and shirt. it only takes a moment. his skin is pristine, pale, and cool to the touch, but at least it's visible now. then he shifts to hover over her, leaning down to kiss her slowly, lingering there a moment. ]

Better?

[ she wrinkles her nose and curls her lip - it's one thing to threaten him with creative violence, but any time he says something like that she ends up picturing it, and the very idea is disgusting.

feeling his teeth against her skin makes her shiver, her hands moving once again to card through his hair. she wouldn't let him bite her, but the suggestion of it, that thrill of illicit danger that she can't control, is intoxicating.

and then he's stripping, and integra can't take her eyes off him, drinking in the details of his newly-uncovered flesh in a way she's never allowed herself before. she's seen him in all manner of undress, but for once she lets herself look. and more, to touch, sliding her hands up his chest as he draws closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders at his kiss. ]

Close. You're still wearing pants.

[ she grins cheekily as she shifts to lie down fully, pulling him with her and drawing her knees up on either side of his waist, bare skin brushing against his naked torso. ]

[ he just smiles in response, innocently. he's really the worst.

he leans into her touch to his hair with a hum, nipping idly in response. he's careful, even reverent. he's not good at expressing affection with words, so he shows it instead.

he arches slightly at her touch, exhaling a needless breath as he briefly gets distracted. integra is touching him, his bare skin, and he licks his lips idly before initiating that kiss. her touch is warm, and he decides instantly that he likes it.

her comment makes him snort against her neck before he's shifting again, sitting up enough to shove his boots off and undo his fly, shimmying out of his pants and letting them fall to the floor. he definitely doesn't wear underwear. rather than anything else though, he crawls between her legs so that he can nip at her thigh, looking up at her through his hair. ]

[ if he likes her warmth, she decides quickly that she enjoys his coolness. it's different, and definitely marks him as vampire, as other, but she expected that, and it lets her always remember that it's him. and it's not as if she's in the habit of touching other people often enough for it to be jarring that his body isn't warm.

she watches intently, a little hungrily as he removes his pants - of course he's not wearing underwear - and her legs part easily for him. she reaches out to card her fingers through his hair, touching his face wherever she can reach.

when she speaks, her voice is hushed with anticipation, and yes some nerves, but still confident and strong. ]

Well, Count? I told you what I wanted.

[ he's happy to be settled there between her legs. he's thought about it before, at length, and made plenty of obscene jokes, but he never thought it would actually happen. so it's a bit overwhelming to him, but in a good way: he's certainly enjoying himself.

he leans into her touches always, turning his head to kiss her palm before grinning faintly up at her. ]

I know, Countess. I was simply admiring you.

[ low, soft, fond. but then he's shifting, hooking one of her legs over his shoulder so he can lean in closer. one hand slips beneath her to support the small of her back, since he's bringing her body up closer to his mouth to compensate for his obscene height.

first he runs his tongue along her thigh, toying, then gives her what she asked for. he slowly runs his tongue over her sex once, flicking over her clit before he begins to tend to her in earnest, nails barely scraping over her back. ]

[ she's not entirely sure what she's expecting. despite what she told alucard earlier, it's not as if she's never touched herself before - but it's always been quick, mostly fleeting, and always in the bath or shower. she knows how other people have described things as feeling.

hearing about something and actually feeling it are two entirely different things. she hadn't thought her legs could fall any wider, but at the first touch of his tongue she tries to spread them as far as possible on instinct.

she doesn't have a lot of leverage, but the leg over his shoulder presses down, trying to shift her hips up closer to him, while her back arches in his hands as she gasps at what he's doing. one of her hands again moves back to his hair, which she seems to have a fetish for touching, while the other scrabbles for anything to hold on to.

she ends up clenching her fingers over her thigh, nails digging in and heedlessly drawing small, shallow cuts where he's so studiously been avoiding it. ]

[ all her reactions are encouraging. despite everything, he likes being in this sort of position, of servitude: it's only a different way of pleasing his master.

his countess.

his tongue slips between her folds slowly, the length of it really assisting in his pleasant work. soon, with aching slowness, he presses his tongue inside her, half out of eagerness and half out of curiosity of her next reactions.

but he can smell her blood now, so close, and it makes him shiver but he doesn't falter, just groaning faintly against her. she could easily guide him with her hand in his hair, judging by how pliant he's being. ]

[ integra lets out a small cry as the faint vibrations of his groan resonate against her. the feel of his tongue against her swollen lips, and then pushing inside her, is so foreign but so good, she wants more. she tries to arch her hips more, but there's no more leverage. the hand in his hair clenches, pulling on it while her arm involuntarily contracts. she doesn't consciously mean to push his head closer, but that's what ends up happening anyway, and she gasps, pressing her head down onto the mattress. ]

More... Alucard-- I need--!

[ she barely has the vocabulary for this when she's not halfway to orgasm, but she tugs on his hair again, some distant part of her brain knowing that he can take it, and that he'll probably appreciate the small amount of pain. ]

[ truth be told, he does like his hair being pulled (little tendrils of it curl around her fingers, around her wrist) and his head being pushed closer. he presses his tongue deeper, moving it slowly as one hand lifts so that he can brush his thumb over her clit in an idle circle, humming softly to urge more gentle vibrations against her.

he can't really answer verbally when she speaks, so he uses his other hand to slide up and take her free one, nails long and sharp but barely pricking her skin as he grasps at her.

part of him wants to drag this out, make her beg for it, but the rest of him likes the sounds she's making so much that he wants to push her over the edge more than anything else. ]

[ if he stops even just to say one word to her, integra is likely to castrate him at this point. her body is beyond shivering now, but she feels his hair shifting around where she's holding it, and it makes her let go for just a few seconds to be more gentle to it. she's always thought of his hair almost like a pet, with a mind of its own but also obeying its master, so she treats it as such. but quickly she grips it at his scalp again, alternately tugging and pushing against him.

small groans and what she would never admit as whimpers (but most definitely are) keep escaping her with almost every breath. when his hand grips hers she latches on, squeezing with all her strength, trying to find some relief for the tension building tighter and tighter. ]

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