[ The selfish conquest of Dorian's body had been on pause for a while now as they discussed Alucard's experience (or therein lack of). But that wasn't to say that his desire was on pause. He continued to ache for him, for his taste and touch. The bouquet of his skin; lingering fortified wine, parchment and stale electricity and the feeling of sculpted muscle taut under cared-for skin. The thought of it made the idle grip supporting Dorian tighten. A deliberate, slow clamp, certainly not enough to hurt him, but maybe just on the verge of doing so.
He felt like they were now dancing around his lust and it made it all the more agonising. So with an unmistakable tone of frustration (but not anger) and maybe a little sarcasm Alucard snipped back. ]
Oh I don't know, some of these books had pictures.
[ How he had wanted to add another cutting comment to his response, to try and put Dorian in his place and impress upon him that with enough research anyone could be an expert in anything, but the train of thought derailed. His lips were enough to distract him, but the suggestions that followed made his stilted breath catch in a quashed groan.
Pushing that revealing noise down his throat his broad chest tensed, trapping it in his lungs until it fizzled away. Mouth agape, exposing those vampiric teeth, he had to bring himself back to reality with the snapping of his jaw. ]
Y--[ He stammered, noticeably so. ]-You are cruel.
[ Of course it could've been an insult, but the heavy weight of arousal and the breathless desire that coloured the words made them seem more like praise.
The wall was too limiting and holding him up too constricting. He couldn't take being touched and kissed with both hands indisposed. He turned, still holding Dorian, and judging from the first glance he made his way in the direction of the bedroom (it was such a small apartment, it didn't take much ingenuity to guess its whereabouts). He moved as if he weighed nothing at all and whilst his breathing was laboured it was less to do with what he was carrying and more to do with how he felt about what he carried.
no subject
He felt like they were now dancing around his lust and it made it all the more agonising. So with an unmistakable tone of frustration (but not anger) and maybe a little sarcasm Alucard snipped back. ]
Oh I don't know, some of these books had pictures.
[ How he had wanted to add another cutting comment to his response, to try and put Dorian in his place and impress upon him that with enough research anyone could be an expert in anything, but the train of thought derailed. His lips were enough to distract him, but the suggestions that followed made his stilted breath catch in a quashed groan.
Pushing that revealing noise down his throat his broad chest tensed, trapping it in his lungs until it fizzled away. Mouth agape, exposing those vampiric teeth, he had to bring himself back to reality with the snapping of his jaw. ]
Y--[ He stammered, noticeably so. ]-You are cruel.
[ Of course it could've been an insult, but the heavy weight of arousal and the breathless desire that coloured the words made them seem more like praise.
The wall was too limiting and holding him up too constricting. He couldn't take being touched and kissed with both hands indisposed. He turned, still holding Dorian, and judging from the first glance he made his way in the direction of the bedroom (it was such a small apartment, it didn't take much ingenuity to guess its whereabouts). He moved as if he weighed nothing at all and whilst his breathing was laboured it was less to do with what he was carrying and more to do with how he felt about what he carried.
He paused, standing over the bed. ]
Oh, and fuck you.