It was a mortal sin he was about to commit. One he had committed many times before. Ever since he returned from England, it was a nightly affront before the eyes of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, sometimes occurring multiple times before the morning Mass filled the Vatican with the sounds of singing and bells.

Enrico Maxwell turned the key in the lock and placed his back to the rough wood. It was just as well, he reasoned. Being the product of his father's carnal indiscretions, he was likely already damned. So all the pious denials of his baser instincts probably were not going to convince Saint Peter to allow him into Heaven.

The image of Integra Hellsing's golden hair framing her light almond face ghosted across his mind. A ball of warmth formed in the pit of his stomach and Enrico sighed in frustration. Just the mention of that infernal woman's name, even in passing, created a need for him to cross his legs to hide the coming erection. Her perfectly pointed nose turned up in disgust increased the stirring in his nether regions. As did the memory of the sapphires begging for information on Millenium behind her silver metal frames.

If only Renaldo and that wire-weaving butler hadn't been along for the outing. If only Anderson and that stupid vampire had decided to kill each other outside. And that little trollop of a policewoman hadn't interrupted them. Perhaps Integra would have been more receptive to him.

As Enrico walked over to his desk, he was already rewriting the scene in his mind. He opened the top drawer and felt around the underside for the button that would release the false bottom. Carefully, he fished out a photo of the Hellsing Organization's director and placed it reverently on the desktop.

It was just the two of them. No Renaldo or Anderson. The butler and two vampires were far away. Integra and him alone, exchanging terse pleasantries over tea in the museum café. He teased her of knowledge of Millenium, forcing her to say "please".

This was the only part of the scene that never changed. Integra conceding to him, though it killed her to do so. Having to admit herself that she wasn't completely in control. The thinning of her perfect lips and the flash of her white teeth as she spit out the word.

Enrico reached to remove the tie from his long platinum hair and chuckled to himself as he replayed Integra's concession in his mind several times over. He reached back into the drawer's false bottom and pulled out a handkerchief. He had nicked it from her during their last treaty negotiation. It still smelled faintly of her woodsy cigars and lavender perfume. He allowed himself a quick inhalation before seating himself on the bed.

Now his fantasy could begin. The word "please" wasn't enough. Not for that haughty Protestant sow. Not that proud Celtic warrior. Not his virginal English princess. She had to give him further concessions.

No, no. Not her precious maidenhood. He wasn't that cruel. He would never take it by force or manipulation. If she were to commit that mortal sin, it would have to be of her own free will. But there were other acts she could concede to…

Of course she said yes. She wanted this information after all.

Enrico reached down to take off his shoes and socks, imagining Integra's golden head bowed before him. He kissed the air where the top of her crown would be. There was no reason this task had to be unpleasant.

Straightening up, he started to slowly unbutton his vest, pretending it was Integra's hands doing the task instead. His hands would gently stroke her face, moving slowly to undo the buttons on her suit jacket. He would stop her as she moved to unbutton his shirt and encircle her small waist in his arms. As her breath hitched, he would take the knot of her cravat in his teeth and pull it loose.

Integra would freeze up, comparing this sudden intimacy to the vampire she kept. But a simple caress with the back if his gloved hand would erase that comparison. The hand would finish removing the cravat and toss it the floor. She would allow him to unbutton her jacket and slip it over her shoulders.

To remind her of her task, he would move her hands back to the buttons on his shirt. Once she started, he would remove the buttons on her blouse. She would look vulnerable as they revealed each other's chests and he would comment on her beauty as he slipped the flimsy cotton off of her.

He stopped and imagined making her stand before him. Her arms would cover her chest and she would stare at him in a mixture of defiance and humiliation. Chuckling, he would allow her this bit of defiance, as he undid her belt and trousers. The trousers would pool around her feet and he would jerk her forward to force her to step out of them.

She would stand before him, slightly shivering in just her undergarments. He would take a moment to appreciate her nearly nude form, before looking meaningfully at his own trousers. She would unbuckle his belt and unbutton his trousers, a little too quickly for his liking. She'd be in such a hurry to get the deed done now. In her haste, she'd pull his underwear down along with the trousers, freeing his fully erect manhood.

Before she could back out, he would turn her sharply around and toss her to the bed. He would follow her, quickly positioning himself so he rested against the headboard. Kissing her forehead, he would gently guide her head down between his legs.

Enrico's hand moved to his erection, pretending it was Integra's hands instinctively gripping his shaft. As he slowly manipulated himself, he imagined Integra's little mouth hesitantly sucking the tip. As his eyes closed and he made little sounds of encouragement, he would reach down to run his fingers through her long, luxurious locks.

His sweet virgin. His sweet whore. She'd do anything for Queen and country, wouldn't she? Even sucking off her enemy.

Enrico bit back a moan. Yes. He would reach down to remove her glasses. After putting them to the side, he would return to unhook her lacey white bra. And she would… Oh… She would pull back in defiance, about to yell that this was the last straw. But he would be too fast for her. Yes. Too fast.

He would knock her back, pinning her down with his hips while removing the bra. He would swallow her protests with a forceful kiss, bruising her lips with his. He would move off her only long enough to rip off her lacey panties.

Enrico grit his teeth and squeezed himself harder. So close. Yes. She would struggle, scream into his kiss. He would pin her arms down. They would be each other's first. She wasn't that vampire's. She was HIS! HIS ALONE!

He wouldn't go easy on her now. Not when he had his prize writhing under him. A quick thrust and her last barrier would be broken. She would scream, then go limp with the realization that he would have his way with her, consenting or not. So close now…

Then, then… he would make her enjoy it, in spite of herself. He could hold himself back long enough to thrust gently into her until her body started to respond. He would enjoy watching desire fight with disgust in her features. As desire won out, she would start responding in kind, timing her thrusts to his own.

Yes, she secretly wanted him. Why wouldn't she? They were both the children of nobility and concubines. They were the children of mortal sin. What's a little carnal sin between those already condemned to hell by the sins of their parents? Integra would writhe beneath him, confessing what he already knew to be true.

Enrico smirked as the beginnings of the coming explosion leaked over his fingers. His breath hitched as he imagined thrusting hard and fast into Integra's now-willing valley. His fingers entwined with hers as she cried out his name with her climax. He allowed himself a quiet moan as he finally released, spilling his seed onto his hands and imagining that it was releasing into his willing English concubine as she confessed her undying love and loyalty.

Enrico slowly opened his eyes and sighed. It would never happen. He knew that.

But… That fat Major intended on killing her once he invaded London. If the Vatican got to her first…

And if he offered her protection…

Maybe. The vampire posed a problem, but the Major had assured him that he had a trump card if Anderson couldn't get the job done.

Enrico picked up the washcloth he had dampened beforehand and started to clean himself off.

Yes, he could order Iscariot to bring Integra to him. He would keep her sequestered here, away from Millenium. She may not be receptive to his advances at first, but she would warm up to him. With the vampire dead, Hellsing destroyed and England reduced to rubble, she would only have her old enemy to turn to.

And as the world collapsed around them, they would sin enough to make both the angels and devils cry out in horror. They would bring down both Heaven and Hell with their debauchery.

The children of mortal sin would create their own Eden here. No Nazis. No vampires. No fanatic priests. No doctrine or political scandals dictating who should love whom. Just the two of them. Loving each other until the end of time. Adam continually embracing his Eve.

Yes. Integra would be his.