insularism: (₄)
Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş ([personal profile] insularism) wrote in [community profile] duplicitymemes 2019-11-01 04:48 pm (UTC)

[ Having been gifted with his mother's and (particularly) his father's traits Alucard had grown up with high expectations placed upon him. The pressure was immense at times; to be the vampire his father's community wanted him to be - the heir to a dark throne. With those responsibilities came the feeling of shouldering them in solitude, having no one to share the load with had been hard, suffocating at times. What all of this meant was that surrendering himself to Dorian like this was a relief in itself. Even though their actions were shared and intertwined he was the one guiding it, not Alucard, and that felt inexplicably good.

And did it ever show. The silent release of expectations put him at a never before seen ease. Whilst there was a sexual tension building in him, of course, there was a sort of free-spirited enjoyment of their bodies, pleasure without the pressure, without the requirements.

Dorian may have even heard a soft, melodic sigh at his lips on his jaw, may have seen the tiny sliver of gold eyes opening, blond lashes framing and softening their gaze. He had never felt like this before, never known such warmth and intimacy, the slightest of touches from Dorian were electric, sending shivers along his skin and making the near-invisible blonde hair on the back of his neck and arms stand on end. Vampires were known to have keen senses, and these heightened perceptions were not limited to combat - he felt stronger than most too.

But that expert grip on his cock brought on new, intense waves of pleasure, maybe Dorian would've sensed that much, but if he didn't the faltering of his touch on Dorian and the quiver of his breathing would've shown him how deeply he was affecting him. The small, pleasured sounds gently tumbling from those parted lips were exquisite, otherworldly, he was swollen with pleasure and delight, more than once did he tighten, tensing his muscles, clearly holding back from a long-teased climax.

This ravenous, violent beast was pliant to the mage’s will, hungry for each touch, every stroke. As he forced himself back into some semblance of composure and his attention went back to his fingers, curling and exploring Dorian. Pulling back the digits he couldn’t stop himself from blindly stroking Dorian’s entrance to see if it had changed under his attention, stroking lazy circles with the tips of his fingers and the smooth oval of his glass-like nails against that most delicate of flesh. The touch agonisingly slow and delicate, curious and new.

Finally he responded in more than moans, his voice raw with desire. ]


No one… would dare to, until you that is.

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