[ Despite how this had started, and how much he would protest if asked, he was enjoying himself. The repartee, the touches, the kisses. That bold quip amused him greatly and his eyes narrowed. He wore a slightly lop-sided grin that favoured the right side of his mouth, parting his lips just enough to reveal one of his pointed canines. A facade of disapproval that he wore poorly, it slipped showing genuine interest and excitement.
He dare not admit how curiously pleasant it felt to be held, to be spoken to so unabashedly, to be desired (or at least feel desired, naturally a part of him doubted it the back of his mind). He wondered if this was the sort of human companionship he had missed in his stark, lonely youth, but the thought flitted into his head as quickly as it had arrived. His arousal didn't let it tarry and it barely even entered his consciousness. A thought for another time, perhaps.
The kiss was what he'd come to expect of Dorian. A wicked tease, a taste of what he could have pulled away too soon too quickly. The moment he'd engaged in it, it had gone. ]
Oh yes.
[ He whispered, taking a final step closer to the bed, his shins resting against its edge. One knee, followed by the other, sunk into the mattress and he released Dorian's legs (at last). Taking a leaf from the mage's book he decided to be a little cruel. He reached around himself and delicately unhooked his hands from his shoulders. Holding his wrists, a grip familiar to his fingers now, he pinned them to the bed either side of him (although he put little pressure on them this time, Dorian could almost certainly pull them free if he so chose). From there he loomed over Dorian, his hair a pale curtain around that ghostly visage. The wicked, playful grin still tugging at his lips. ]
And now I've got you.
[ Whilst one hand kept Dorian's pinned to the bed, his other, dominant hand ran up the unblemished skin of his arm. Glass-like nails delicately dragging over the black sleeve that was still in one piece. Once he reached his shoulder his palm stroked idly over it before grazing across to run the backs of his fingers along the elegant definition of Dorian's collarbone and down the divide between the neck of his clothing and his skin.
He felt warm and full of life and power. And as Alucard explored his skin his amusement shifted to appetite. A hunger not just limited to blood. His touch was sensual, exploratory and inexperienced. Not the sort of ignorant inexperience one might expect - there was nothing clumsy in what he did. It was like sampling something delicious for the first time. ]
no subject
He dare not admit how curiously pleasant it felt to be held, to be spoken to so unabashedly, to be desired (or at least feel desired, naturally a part of him doubted it the back of his mind). He wondered if this was the sort of human companionship he had missed in his stark, lonely youth, but the thought flitted into his head as quickly as it had arrived. His arousal didn't let it tarry and it barely even entered his consciousness. A thought for another time, perhaps.
The kiss was what he'd come to expect of Dorian. A wicked tease, a taste of what he could have pulled away too soon too quickly. The moment he'd engaged in it, it had gone. ]
Oh yes.
[ He whispered, taking a final step closer to the bed, his shins resting against its edge. One knee, followed by the other, sunk into the mattress and he released Dorian's legs (at last). Taking a leaf from the mage's book he decided to be a little cruel. He reached around himself and delicately unhooked his hands from his shoulders. Holding his wrists, a grip familiar to his fingers now, he pinned them to the bed either side of him (although he put little pressure on them this time, Dorian could almost certainly pull them free if he so chose). From there he loomed over Dorian, his hair a pale curtain around that ghostly visage. The wicked, playful grin still tugging at his lips. ]
And now I've got you.
[ Whilst one hand kept Dorian's pinned to the bed, his other, dominant hand ran up the unblemished skin of his arm. Glass-like nails delicately dragging over the black sleeve that was still in one piece. Once he reached his shoulder his palm stroked idly over it before grazing across to run the backs of his fingers along the elegant definition of Dorian's collarbone and down the divide between the neck of his clothing and his skin.
He felt warm and full of life and power. And as Alucard explored his skin his amusement shifted to appetite. A hunger not just limited to blood. His touch was sensual, exploratory and inexperienced. Not the sort of ignorant inexperience one might expect - there was nothing clumsy in what he did. It was like sampling something delicious for the first time. ]