This is a continuation of Purpose. This time, from Integra's PoV. Thank you, GrimGrave for looking this over :3
Disclaimer: Do not own. Let's move on, shall we?
-Protect-
There's a naked girl in your bed.
Normally, the combination of pale skin, voluptuous curves, short blonde hair, and full, pouty lips would have encouraged you to join her, but something's stopping you.
It's not the fact that you're both women, nor is it the fact that the slumbering blonde is a supernatural creature of the night and you are her master. It's not even the fact that Seras Victoria's rank is far beneath yours.
No, the thing that was stopping you was likely the only thing other than prying eyes that could keep your hands off of the beautiful Draculina—worry.
Bright blue eyes have been closed for almost three days now and, though she seems utterly peaceful nestled comfortably amongst your pillows, you can't help the panicky way your foolish heart races.
'Why hasn't she woken up yet?'
That had been the most pressing thought on your mind for the past 72 hours—not the influx of ghouls, not the dangers you would all soon be facing should Alucard's cryptic warnings prove to be true, but the fate of one single policewoman-turned-vampire.
When he had come in with her broken form cradled in his arms, your heart had literally skipped a beat.
/ "Seras...?!" Your body would have to make do with that recent sharp intake of breath because your brain was finding it difficult to focus on anything but the bloodied form cradled so gently in the original vampire's arms. "What happened?"
"An ambush." His expression is grim and that's not helping your stuttering heart one bit.
"Walter, draw a bath—quickly!" you bark, your eyes never leaving your Draculina—your world. Her eyelids flutter, a pained whimper escaping her, and you now know the sinking, searing pain of having your heart break. "Alucard, bring her this way. I'll take care of her. /
As Bureau Director of the Hellsing Organization, you can't afford to be this distracted. Lives rest in your white-gloved hands and nothing will get done without you commanding it.
It's difficult to give commands when the one you care for most is...
Well, you're still not sure how she's doing.
The shallower of the lacerations have sealed up without a mark and her bruises have already gone through that ugly series of colour changes and were almost completely faded. Of course, she still remains dead to the world, so the improvements seem superficial.
The shadows cast by the fireplace next to your work desk (you had it dragged in here with the hopes that you'd get something done other than wearing a rut into the polished wood floor with your pacing) dance unnaturally and a portal of darkly swirling energy opens up in the wall; from it emerges a tall, gaunt man dressed all in black save a crimson, floor-length trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat of a similar shade.
"You called, Sir?" The manic grin baring wickedly pointed canines is almost as unnerving as the way his blood red gaze burns from behind yellow-tinted glasses—Alucard, the original "Dracula."
You turn away from him to draw a thin white sheet over the blonde to hide her nakedness, searching within to find the strength to erect your usual wall of command.
"Can't you fix this?" A futile effort; you hate the waver in your normally steady voice. This-anxious, scared-isn't you. You are Integra Fairbrook Wingate Hellsing: the oldest vampire is your plaything and your influence and affluence are boundless. You know your entire staff is terrified of you, likening you to a machine—cold, efficient, unfeeling.
And yet, here you are... Scared. Desperate.
You don't remember when exactly you had begun to care so damn much for the diminutive blonde—no, that's a lie and you know it. From the very first moment you had watched the naive young woman struggle with herself—resist what she had become—you had felt a strong sense of protectiveness when it came to the rookie law enforcer.
What had at first been a healthy respect for a woman that had chosen this life, no matter how difficult, and stood firm when it came to her human morals no matter how sweet the siren's call, had steadily become something stronger. Something that ran so deep that you felt it with every strong, steady beat of your heart.
You scowl fiercely when Alucard chuckles. "I don't find this to be a laughing matter."
"It isn't," he agrees. "Your love-sick moping, however..."
Your cheeks heat and your scowl subsequently deepens. "Excuse me?"
He holds up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "Worry not, my beloved master, the Police Girl will be right as rain soon enough."
"How soon?"
"Soon," the male repeats. The answer isn't reassuring in the least. "She's suffered a great deal of damage. She'll need to feed when she awakens. "
Feed... The thought shouldn't have sent heat pooling between the junction of your thighs, but it does and, suddenly, you're more anxious than you were before.
"I... see." His expression is knowing and you clear your throat, cheeks burning that much hotter, though you keep your expression neutral. "As you know, she refuses to drink human blood from the source and I highly doubt the substitute carries enough nutrients to do the job properly."
"I'm certain you can find a way to... convince her."
"I'm afraid I don't like your tone." Ah, that was better: sharp, in control.
"Apologies." He sketches a quick, almost sarcastic bow. "Now, if you'll excuse me..."
Without another word, the vampire sinks through the floor, likely with the intent to retreat to the peace and quiet of his coffin deep in the catacombs beneath the Organization.
"... Walter, my room is off-limits for the rest of the night."
The elderly gentleman had been hovering in the doorway, waiting for you to turn your attention to him. "Ah... But you've guests tonight, as you may recall."
You pinch the bridge of your nose tiredly, shifting your glasses carelessly out of the way. Your current guests are spokespeople from a band of civilians that bravely fought ghouls and you had hoped to curry their favour in order to expand your ranks. Thus, they are important, worthwhile guests indeed.
But one look at Seras and you know there are things that are far more important.
"No one is to disturb me. No exceptions."
"Very well, Sir."
You don't remember sitting in your swiveling chair, nor do you remember the point at which your exhausted mind had stopped turning over doubt after doubt and allowed you to rest.
In fact, you probably would have managed a proper night's sleep for the first time in what felt like forever had you not been awakened by the warm weight of another in your lap.
Your eyes snap open and you're greeted with the sight of glowing crimson orbs in the dim light of what are now likely embers. Your heart races when Seras bares her fangs and leans forward, purring and nuzzling into your throat, licking, nipping...
For a moment, you forget yourself and tilt your head back, baring the sensitive curve of your throat to the hungry vampire that is setting your body ablaze with want, and your efforts are rewarded with a throaty sound and slim fingers sliding into your hair.
"Master..." she croons, taking in your scent with a long, deep breath that hitches when you reach out and grab her hips, pulling her curvaceous form flush against your slender one.
You're once again provided with a good look at wickedly pointed canines as her head falls back, but fear is the furthest thing from your mind at this moment.
After all, you... trust Seras Victoria. And, for you, that's a huge step.
"Are you hungry, Police Girl?" You don't know how, but touching the blonde fills your vocal chords with sex.
"Mm..." A chill travels the length of your spine at the ferocity burning in that blood red gaze, but her touch remains gentle as she leans in and presses her lips to yours. "Missed you..." she says against them, sighing softly-sweetly-when you kiss back.
Your heart is going to explode if it keeps swelling warmly like this. Or perhaps it's just trying to present itself to the lovely young woman who has managed to claim ownership.
You have to clear your throat in order to pull yourself together enough to murmur, "Alucard says that you should feed."
She shakes her head, pouting stubbornly. "I'm fine."
You nip her bottom lip, luxuriating in the way she gasps and shivers. "I thought you'd say that."
You reach past her to open the desk drawer and pull out a long, thin blade Walter had left there per your orders. You steel yourself, bringing the sharp edge towards your skin as Seras watches, pupils mere pinpricks lost in a sea of red.
"Master..."
A twinge of pain sparks from neuron to neuron, spiraling outward from the wound you opened up on your forearm, and your body immediately becomes heated, pliant. The reaction is a conditioned one because you know what comes next—
With a strangled hiss, Seras cradles your arm, leaning down and dragging her tongue along the cut, leaving a trail of fire in her wake. She repeats the gentle motion, the warm, wet sensation sending pleasant little bolts of pleasure to your pleasure receptors, and you release a groan, brandishing the knife with your free hand.
"Police Girl." You know that this is beyond stupid, but when crimson eyes flick to you, swirling with an intense hunger that isn't entirely for blood, you suddenly don't care. You drag the knife over your collar, wincing at the stinging sensation, and tilt your head to the side as warm rivulets of blood drip down your skin. "Don't bite."
There's a tense moment of silence in which she just stares, nostrils flared, muscles tense. Then, she gives a feral yowl and lunges forward, nearly unseating you both as she laps at your blood like a cat would milk. You chuckle, charmed as always by the soft, satisfied sounds she makes, and cup a pale, full swell, tweaking the pale nipple that protrudes from its center.
She hisses, arching her back so that she fills your palm, but she doesn't break away from the sweet nectar dribbling down your—
There's a loud tearing sound and you flinch, goosebumps raising on your skin as a result of the sudden draft: Seras, in her eagerness to clean up every crimson droplet has torn the thin white T-shirt you wear to bed and the way silken strands of blonde tickle your breasts as she slides down your body makes you whimper.
Oh, no. Not again. You grab a handful of short hair and tug her upwards, away from the hotly throbbing, excitement-slick flesh that is sure to be her next target. The Draculina has a thing for eating you out and, while that's quite brilliant, the nonstop orgasms these last few days have left you sensitive to the point of soreness.
Your lips connect once again and you taste copper as her lips part, allowing you to slide hot wet muscle into that sweet oral cavern, dominating her with clever little twists of your tongue until she's moaning eagerly, her hand dropping down to cover the one you have resting on her hip in order to direct you southward.
"I ache," she husks when at last you pull apart in order to observe the damage you have wrought. Her impressive bosom is rising and falling rapidly and the pink hue that stains her cheeks and has spread to her shoulders is enchanting to say the least. You stroke your fingers teasingly over her inner thigh, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose as you do so and she straightens, spreading her thighs wide to give you room to work. "Please..."
Her tone is enough to make your inner muscles contract eagerly and you squeeze your thighs together though your voice remains steady, aloof, as you question, "So you want to ride me, Police Girl?"
You see the way the triangle of golden curls covering her sex glisten in the low light and, suddenly, your throat is dry.
Seras whimpers, wriggling her hips as she buries her face in your throat. When you give her a firm smack on the curve of her bottom, she cries out softly, her fingers clutching at your shoulders. She mumbles something into your skin and you smirk.
"I didn't quite catch that. Come again?"
"How can I 'cum again' if you're not touching me?" she asks sullenly.
You laugh at that, sliding your hand upward to cup her sex, and she bucks violently, a frustrated sound leaving her.
"Master!"
Before she can complain again, you slide two fingers into wet heat, thrusting shallowly as her hips try desperately to draw you in deeper. She's more than wet enough to be taken. Hard.
"Be a dear and get our little friend from the bottom drawer, hm?"
She moves so quickly that you don't even register the fact that she had left your lap until she's kneeling between your legs, looking up at you expectantly until you chuckle and lift your hips, allowing her to buckle the strap on harness you had purchased not too long ago. The dong is already fit into the front, standing at attention, and Seras's gaze swirls with crimson though she has just fed, as she straddles your lap.
It was incredible how feeding totally changed the shy girl's personality. This Seras—hot, horny, eyes heavy-lidded, and body more than receptive to your touch—is the stuff of wet dreams.
An impatient little growl shakes you from your musings and you grip the base of the dildo and guide it between swollen lips, thrusting it all the way without warning and tearing a glorious scream from your partner's throat.
Let the whole mansion know who was boss here.
You pump your hips, each strong, rough thrust meeting the downward bounce of the woman who's riding you, the string of profanities leaving those full, pink lips making your insides become slicker still, and reach around to grip her ass, pulling pale globes apart so that you can penetrate even deeper...
To spectacular result: she cries out hoarsely, her fingernails nearly drawing blood as she grips your shoulders for support, and her eyes roll back, her frenzied pace increasing. You press an affectionate kiss to the crown of her head as she slumps into your larger form, panting and moaning quietly as aftershocks of ecstasy spread from tightly clenched muscles.
Before she can catch her breath, you lift her up, onto the sturdy surface of your work desk, and nestle between her thighs, pressing a kiss to her lips before purring, "Ready?"
Crimson eyes are wide. "M-master, wai-AH!"
You had missed her as well... and you won't stop until you have her screaming your name.
...
Utterly exhausted, you're ready for a good night's sleep, though, according to the timepiece on your mantle, it's far past a decent hour to get some rest. Still, you might as well give it a shot.
You've just begun to doze off when two slim arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you back against warm, silken skin and, just like that, you're wide awake. Your breath hitches as Seras trails gentle kisses along your spine.
"I never did thank you properly for watching over me, Master..."
"There's... Ah...! N-no need." You arch and a warm hand snakes around to cup one of your breasts, kneading firmly. "Seras—!"
"Please...?" she breathes, her tongue tracing over the shell of your ear.
It seems you're in for another sleepless night.
-Fin-