WARNING: THIS FIC CONTAINS A LIME!
He wanted her mouth. Those full lips always and forever placed in a playful pout; parted when she moaned in lament as her haunting subconscious tormented her with visions of a misguided past, yet smirking in the face of Death Himself.
He desired her flexible body, wrapped in soft, exotic, caramel skin. The girl was dangerous; the biggest tease he'd ever met, but the greatest weapon he'd ever used, and consequently, she was on his level.
His name had never sounded so erotic until it rolled off of Aziza's tongue.
He hissed quietly, her wet, warm tongue laving at the glistening plum shaped head of his engorged sex. He nearly couldn't hold back the dire moans that wanted so badly to escape him. The very tip of his protege's long, slender muscle traced teasingly along the slit, where tiny drops of pre-ejaculation surfaced, but were quickly snatched into the loving female's mouth; The mouth he so desired for decades.
Deciding he was delectable enough, her mouth slipped over the swollen appendage, only as far as she could muster without gagging, which wasn't much. The rest of him was encircled between her fingers in a tight embrace. She milked him slowly, teasing him with slow and steady strokes that bordered on painful.
Humming, she swallowed him whole, relaxing her throat as well as she could for his well deserved deep-throating. Her eyes rolled up to register her superior's reaction.
Did he approve?
Though he looked to be in agony, his red tears trickling down his face, he stroked her head, assuring her that he was more than pleased. He'd never heard such beauty in the song of her soul before. Such loyalty and compassion that reached a crescendo as she pleasured him. Her mind cried out words of forbidden love, love that she could never know. She was unsure, frustrated that she could not come to terms with the emotion, she searched but never found. What could she say? What could she do? What exactly was she feeling at the moment... what exactly was feeling?
Was love the correct emotion?
Were they so cursed, so wretched that they didn't deserve recognisable emotion?
Tears of pure crimson dripped from the elder's chin and onto his associate's head. She gazed up at her mentor, the sight of his emotional desperation almost too much for her long dead heart to bare. Her own tear ducts leaked like a broken down earthen dam; And she was sure the two of them must have looked like too silly teenagers experimenting for the first time.
In response, Alucard unleashed an unholy roar that was followed by and acid flow of undead semen. His fists grasped at the thick, curly hair at the base of her skull, holding the little spitfire in place. She swallowed every fervent drop, no intentions of pulling away.
A shiver worked its way up her spine. At that moment, it was affirmed that her mouth was his, and soon, so would her body...
But could they.. love?