,, Tell me to go, Thorn, and I will go..." he whispered softly when the second button followed and he moved further down, fingers touching her thin, white silk slip gently, as if the delicate fabric could tear. Another button opened.
,, Tell me to stop and I will stop..." his voice sounded so far away to Thorn, who tried to focus on anything but his hand, opening her dress more and more, stroking her skin through the silk with agile fingers.
,,... But I am sick of hiding my feelings for you..." his voice was so hypnotizing, it lulled her into a form of sanctuary, where nothing could ever hurt her or hate her. The last button snapped open, Dracula's hand sliding inside her dress and touching her skin through the silk with a flat hand, moving it upwards again. Thorn felt like someone was forcing all her air from her lungs. When his hand moved up over her chest, she let out a small sound, making him smile ever so foxy.
,, Should I stop, Thorn?" he asked and moved up and grabbed a hold of the velvet of her dress, pulling it more and more aside. Thorn forced herself to tear free from the drugging state he was leading her into and spoke in a breathless voice.
,,.. yes..." he froze as she uttered that one word. His hand pulled away from her so slow it almost didn't move, pondering what he had done to upset her. Then she completed her words.
,,... I..." her voice quivered like a willow.
,,... I want you... to stop... calling me... that...!" she whispered. And then she smiled. He smiled back, and took the shoulders of her dress and slid if off her, sending it to the floor in a rustling pool of dark velvet. Her slip was simple and made her look painfully angelic. The white silk embraced her body softly, ending below her knees in a loose swoop. A thin ribbon held the slip closed over her chest, a clumsy bow tied to it. Dracula felt like his heart had started, just to stop at the sight of her. Thorn, on the other hand, took his silence as a bad sign. After all, she was not one of those thin creatures with curves like unbelievably exaggerated hourglasses; she was a human girl. Her arms moved up and crossed over her chest, feeling utterly simple. Then Dracula grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms away, not forcefully. He looked her top to bottom and back up, stopping when he reached her eyes. And he smiled and pulled her to him in a kiss. Thorn felt very exposed in her thin petticoat, so it was nice to feel Dracula's arms wrap around her, holding her tight. His fingers dug into the silk, hating it for separating him for her. Their kiss grew more burning and Thorn found herself fingering at the buttons of Dracula's coat, the two of them standing too close for her to get a solid hold of them. They pulled slightly away from each other and both began unbuttoning his coat, Thorn from down and up and Dracula moving from his collar and down. When their fingers met at the last button, the twenty of them all fought to open it. When it was done, Dracula quickly slid it off and it joined Thorn's dress on the floor, and he grabbed her once again and kissed her. Thorn leaned completely into his embrace, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt around her bare arms. Her hands ran over his chest, nails clawing at his vest and began opening it, Dracula smiling into her mouth as she did so. When it was opened they pulled apart once more and Dracula tugged it off, disregarding it alongside his coat. Those few seconds it took him pulling the vest off simply hurt too much on both of them. They didn't want to be apart. This time, Dracula pulled Thorn to the bed and softly pushed her down in it and set upon her neck and shoulders with his lips, leaving kiss upon sweet kiss on her skin. Thorn tipped back and closed her eyes, swimming in an ocean of pure passion. Dracula's teeth, the dull, human ones, sank into her neck and Thorn led out a small moan, her body arching so she could be closer to him. His hands, trained to perfection with over 400 years of experience, ran down over her body and made her damn him to Hell; it was however him who had purchased the very same slip that separated his hands from her skin. Her hands grabbed his shirt and desperately forced it open, and she felt his perfect lips curl into a smile against the crook of her neck. He grabbed her hands and together they forced the shirt of him, letting it fall and caring about nothing but each other. His cool arms wrapped around her upper body, Thorn almost caving under the feeling of his bare skin against hers, locking her arms on her chest and pressing his lips against hers. Thorn gasped from the feeling and felt how her toes and fingers curled up. And then he stopped and pulled back, still holding Thorn so she couldn't move her arms. She looked at him, her lips burning and swollen from the connection with his, her chest panting for air and overflowing with desire. Dracula smiled, a mix of coldness, wickedness and love playing in his eyes.
,, And you are sure you wish to go through with this?" he whispered, lips grazing the corner of her mouth when he spoke. Thorn thought of their kisses, his soft skin and the wonderful coolness of it, she felt his weight on her and the rough material of his trousers against her bare legs.
,, You stop to ask me that now?" she smiled and tore free of his arms and choked his words with a lingering kiss. They both smiled and Dracula's hands moved up to her bare shoulders and down her front to the band in her slip, which had begun to feel unbelievably tight to Thorn, tugging the bow open and pulling the silk away from her breasts. Thorn could feel her veins burning from the unfamiliar contact of his chest, then his hands and, oh God, his lips against the tender skin of her bosom and she silently begged for him never to stop. His hands moved back to her shoulders and pulled the straps of the slip down her arms and she wrung free of the tightening fabric. Dracula leaned back on his hands and looked at Thorn, her dark brown hair fanning out under her gorgeous body, her perfect skin and her flawless breasts. She was, without the slightest hint of hesitation, the most ravishing creature he had ever seen. Under him, Thorn pulled completely free of the slip and threw it aside, and was now completely naked.
Something began thundering in Dracula's chest, first it was so unfamiliar he did not recognize it. Then he grabbed Thorn's hand and pressed it against the left side of it. First she was confused, then she realized what it was and her eyes widened and glowed even further, if such a thing was even possible.
,, Your heart...!" it hadn't happened to him that many times; three, maybe four since his death. As if his heart had forgotten it shouldn't be able to work anymore and accustomed itself to the rhythm of the person he was with at the time.
,, No..." he whispered, his hand clutching hers.
,,... I can say without a doubt that it is yours." her hand slowly closed over the point, as if she grabbed it and kept it in her soft hands forever. He placed the same hand he had held hers in on her cheek and stroked her hair away from her face and then he let it run down over her features, her lips nibbling at the tips, then down over her neck, her breasts, her stomach... He let it settle on her hip and drew small circles down the outer part of her thigh with his fingers, smiling teasingly as he did so. Her hands moved down over his chest to the buttons of his trousers, guying him with feather light grazes of her fingers. He growled deeply in his throat but not in rage. It was the other kind of growl.
Then he pulled away from her and swept her ball gown and the mask down to the floor, then pulling off his boots and dropping them to the floor as well. Then came a sigh of the fabric of his trousers, when they as well landed on the floor, in the scatter of clothes that had gathered there.
When the evening had begun, Thorn had lit many of the lights in her room. Now, they all stood with their flames burning lesser, turning down and going out as Thorn watched. Not because they were worn down, but because Dracula waved a hand at them and killed most of them, making it all more... cozy. Only a few candles remained lit, bathing the room in a golden shine.
Thorn was lying in her bed, head resting on Dracula's chest, listening to his slowing heart and his breathing. His one hand had dug into her hair and twirled locks of it around his fingers, lulling them both into a groggy state of pure ecstasy. The ruffled covers of the bed hand mostly fallen to the floor, but Dracula had gotten a hold of one and had pulled it over them, to keep them warm. The clip in his hair had snapped open at some point, and he had only made a vain attempt to gather it again, so more loose strands than usual framed his face. None of them spoke. It wasn't necessary.