A/N: explicit scenes ahead

They crossed the balcony, stepping inside an adjoined chamber. It was pitch-dark and Alucard walked over to a table, retrieving a tinderbox to light the candles set in a tall holder.

As the room brightened to a warm amber, details of the chamber were revealed - there was an unlit fireplace built against one wall, and a basket with wood to the side. A wide canopy bed occupied a part of the space, and a desk stood on the opposite end. A large, oval-shaped mirror hung above it. The dark furnishings in the chamber were neat and refined to Greta's eye, masterfully crafted compared to other places she'd seen, and very, very old. She had not felt at ease within the walls of this castle at first, but the ambience of ill-fate and wrongness about it had faded with time; she smiled to herself, certain he had much to do with this change of heart.

The woman hugged herself. It was chilly in the room, the cold seeping from the stone walls through her clothes. "Is this where you usually sleep?" she asked, rubbing at her arms.

Alucard turned his head briefly. "Not lately." Most nights he'd spend lying awake thinking, or regaining himself from whatever nightmare visited at the time. He frowned. "You're cold. Will change that in a moment," he added while shrugging out of his coat. He rolled up his shirt to the elbows, and crouched before the hearth, setting to kindle a fire. Greta watched him, absorbing the flow of his gestures before tearing her gaze away, her attention set on the room itself.

She went before the desk, curious fingers running over the smooth wooden surface. It was empty but for a quill, ink, and a scroll, partially scribbled with dark, elegant swirls. She peered closer at the letters etched therein. "You never said you were a writer." The chamber brightened even more as the fireplace came to life, casting light and shadows that danced merrily on the walls like careless watchers.

"I'm not," Alucard said. "But it's a habit gained during my childhood," he added, reaching to remove his boots. He then neared another table on the opposite side of the room, poured water in a small basin from a pitcher and washed his hands, glancing her way. When done, he walked over to Greta, gazing at her reflection in the mirror; on how firelight danced off her skin and in her eyes.

Greta raised her head. A corner of her lips quivered upward as Alucard came to stand behind her, close and warm. "A man of science," she grinned, her thoughts already dispersing in unknown directions at his nearness.

"Writing helps." Alucard leaned forward and placed a kiss to her ear. "And I've had a lot of time on my hands, living here alone." Able fingers drifted to her linen belt, slowly unfastening it from around her waist and letting it fall to the floor. "Too much time," Alucard followed absently. Her soft sigh and the way the woman fell against him in comfort spurred his intent, and he reveled in the sweetness of her blood, pouring hot beneath living skin. His head felt heavy again, and his own blood rushed through his veins like a tempest.

"That was once," Greta purred, turning her head, words fading with the graze of his lips. "You might even start craving a moment to yourself, soon enough," she spoke into his kiss.

Alucard huffed. "I doubt it." He undid her shirt at the front, one clasp at a time until it was open past her collarbones and his hand slipped beneath; he bit the inside of his cheek as he palmed one breast, the nipple hardening under his fingers. Her head fell against his shoulder and he felt each pointed peak, his other hand reaching down her front, hedging Greta against him. He did not exactly possess a great wealth of knowledge on how to please someone, not by far, though Alucard was no stranger to theory - but his own previous intimate experience, while pleasurable for the most part, had understandably left a sour taste in his mouth. Still, he knew allowing the past to come between this, between them, would be a crass injustice. And did she not ask him to show her how much he wanted this to work? His hands fell away and Alucard lifted her long shirt up, his palms delving beneath the waist of her leggings, finding hot skin. A shiver ran through him, his blood simmering. He kissed her cheek before slowly sliding the material down, descending to his knees until the garment reached her ankles, and Greta turned around, a grin changing her face. She propped her hands on his shoulders and Alucard removed first one shoe, then the other, eyes riveted on her swaying form while the woman stepped out of the hindering clothing. Her small-clothes followed the same path.

The confinement of his trousers became painful as Alucard watched her, wearing nothing but that flimsy shirt, one pert breast peeking out. The white material barely covered the dark patch between her legs.

Greta smiled at the look on his face. She rather enjoyed having the son of Dracula on his knees before her, but it did not last long as Alucard rose, his eyes darkened to scarlet again. The woman saw the impressive length clearly outlined through his trousers as he seized her close, one arm reaching behind her knees, lifting her up as though she weighed nothing.

He walked to the bed and her eyes widened when Alucard threw her onto the sheets, the silk cold against her skin, the mattress yielding in soft undulating resistance. He regarded the woman with that same otherworldly glimmer in his eyes from before; as if he wanted to feed on her.

"So this is how you play..." Greta said, flustered and eager as the bed dipped slightly with his added weight. He moved like a wolf, silent and deadly, appraising the moment.

"With you, yes," he rose to his knees and gripped both her thighs, bringing her body to him over the soft sheets. He slid the material of her shirt up above her navel, then stopped, hands feathering over naked hips, fascinated by the meld of smoothness and strength. He swallowed, nostrils flaring.

Enough waiting. Alucard bent forward, propped on his forearms, caging her beneath him.

Greta was smiling as he sought her mouth in a long kiss, dragging his lips along the curve of her jaw, down her throat. When he rolled his hips against her the woman shuddered, the friction near painful, but with that sleek balance where it was only so much that it enhanced the pleasure, instead of diminishing it. "I see I'm…" she paused as he sucked on her tongue. "I'm at a disadvantage. You're still clothed." She reached down his back, grasping and pulling his shirt up.

"Fair." Alucard grinned and rose briefly, disposing of his garment and throwing it somewhere on the floor.

Her gaze swept over the stretch of his shoulders, the taut muscles under firm skin, limned in the half-dark by the playful light of the fire; the way shadows shivered over coiled strength. The ragged scar cutting across his chest was an angry red - Alucard had shared with her the story behind it, and it tugged at her heart. Greta ran her fingers gently down the crimson mark as she was caught in another embrace, shoulders unyielding against hers until the woman lay flat on her back, his arms around her. Neither moved; skin on skin, his heart fluttered against her chest like a struggling bird. Greta clutched at him, kneading his tense back and shoulders with his seeking lips on her chin, her throat, her collarbone; lower. His mouth alighted on a nipple, coating his tongue with her flavor.

Greta plunged her hands into his hair as he kissed his way along each rib. "You may need to guide me," Alucard breathed on her skin.

Her hand reached for his. "I'll be sure to, — ah!" she huffed when he nipped at the flesh of her inner thigh, his breath hot on her skin. He watched her beneath long dark lashes, as if seeking every reaction, every change. Greta doubted he would need much guidance as she melted under this tender onslaught, for there was something raw about the way he teased and somehow knew what she needed and where, and Greta rose on her forearms to watch. Magnificent, with his golden head between her legs, that devious grin, and the inhuman flare in his eyes; looking like he belonged there. If anyone had told her in the past that she'd become besotted with someone like him, they'd get a hammer in the face - but here she was, utterly lost and needing more. Once Greta had thought him cold and distant; what a far cry from the truth.

Alucard licked his way down her thigh and pressed his nose to her mound, then looked up at the woman as he found her. He closed his eyes, his finger running languid circles around her opening, parting her wet petals before delving inside.

Greta sucked air through her teeth, her lower body quivering from the rush of satisfaction when he added another finger.

Alucard propped his cheek against her thigh, watching her, mesmerized, as she fell to pieces for him. How different she was to anything he'd known before. How patient, allowing him to explore, to simply be with each other. His lips parted in a show of sharp fangs. "So... warm…" he sighed.

Greta bit down hard on her lip. "More…" her nails raked against his scalp.

No sooner did she choke the word than Alucard removed his hand and carefully lifted her legs, draping them over his shoulders. He was no longer smiling, but a dark hunger blazed in his eyes as his head dipped lower and his lips met her slit.

Her womb jerked from the sudden assail on her nerves at being tasted, lost to the enjoyment of soft lapping, kissing and suckling. Her hands roamed through his strands, and her mind was void of all except the pressure of his mouth upon her, and the way his jaw worked; his hands dug into her hips as he hardened his tongue and delved inside.

Shaking fingers tightened in his hair and Greta tilted her hips back, guiding his head until he was sucking on the very spot that tipped her over; her thighs clenched around him and he never stopped, treating her to the needy flicks of his tongue and it had been a while since Greta had this sort of relief, moaning and shifting as he went faster, softer, slower—

She bucked against him but that was useless, his hold keeping the woman down as her lower body shivered with sudden spasms, rushing and drowning her like hot, roaring waves. Stripped of thought, fears, and worries, she lay there like prey.

His.

"Oh, Adrian…" His hair slipped through her fingers as Greta fell back limply against the bed, breathless and panting.

Alucard pressed his cheek to her middle, hugging her to him. "I really am in trouble, aren't I," he said, lifting his head.

His expression was nothing she'd ever seen before; lost and drunk, with a flash of lust in his gaze that struck near ravenous. The threads of her sanity were slowly coming undone under that stare, and Greta found she did not care.

"I'll never tell," she somehow found her wit as he rose on his arms and crawled back up to her, seeking her mouth.

"Your taste," he said, slowly nipping at her. "... the scent… I…" Alucard sighed, unable to continue, taking her hand and pressing it to his chest so she could feel the rush of his blood.

His heart beat so fast the woman thought it would burst as she tasted herself on his lips, desire rumbling through her like thunder. Greta reached between them as he traced her jaw with his tongue, pleased at his warm gasp when she found the hardened proof of his need; her touch wrung a soft groan, and Alucard pressed his nose to her cheek. She tugged at his belt, eyes narrowing. "Off, now..." she ordered hoarsely, and Alucard hastily came to his knees between her legs to slide down his trousers. His straight, hard length slapped thickly against his abdomen as he released himself and threw the garment aside.

God, he was stunning; perfect, so openly arrayed before her. Greta barely kept from tackling him as her arm bound around his neck, her mouth to his brow, then his cheekbone, finally catching his lip between her teeth as her hand wrapped around his cock, stroking and running her thumb over the dripping, slippery head.

Alucard brought his forehead to hers, chest heaving, near breaking from the pressure of her grip around him. He was pliant as Greta pushed him down on his back, his fair hair a spilled golden mess across the pillows.

"You've had your fun," Greta cooed, running her hands over his muscular thighs. How long had it been for him? They'd not spoken of it, but that wanting look told her all the woman needed to know, for now at least.

Alucard made a sound between a moan and a growl when she straddled him and began rolling her hips back and forth over his throbbing arousal, slow and insistent, until it was slick with her need. He closed his eyes at the torment, aching to slip inside, and reached for her hips. He sank his nails into the skin, barely able to keep his claws from spearing forward as his control withered on a downward spiral. "I want you… so much… please—"

The sweet pressure disappeared and his voice trailed off into a gasp. His eyes then snapped open at the feel of blissful, wet tightness surrounding him. Alucard nearly fell apart at the sight of her lovely, determined gaze softening with abandon and taking him in her mouth again. A shard of memory struck, of that other time when all went so impossibly wrong; he closed his eyes to banish it from his mind. He trusted her, needed her, and this was the present. Again, simple. And in the present, he hardly kept from grabbing her head to hold her still and thrust in her mouth. He reached and curled strands of her dark hair around his fist as she pumped him with one hand, her mouth soft and enveloping, her tongue seemingly everywhere; she took him deeper and Alucard thought he would shatter from the endless ripples of pleasure, melding with the need to have her so close it hurt, to feel all of her against him; his, at least for those few moments. "I…" words failed when she sucked on the swollen head of his cock, watching him, one hand caressing up his torso, her hair brushing his thighs. "Greta, you need to stop," Alucard panted, his head falling back when she took him down her throat. Heedless, she teased him with a crooked smile and one long, drawn out suckle that had him shuddering and grabbing at the sheets. "I mean it...you need to stop; and come here…" He was that close to breaking under her skillful mouth, and never knew this could be so good.

She licked her way up his length; no more games. Greta rose, her skin warm against the firelight, stalking over his body like a wildcat, and Alucard brought his arms around her as she unwound atop him. Her head lowered, she hummed low at his spicy scent, lingering on her skin and in her mouth, lips trailing over the graceful column of his neck as Alucard grasped her rear. His hips rolled upward, hands keeping her trapped, and his fingers sank below her hipbones, hedging her; their eyes locked as he shifted, and his hardness slicked against her slit.

"Oh, yes…" she rasped, bringing her forehead to his, thighs trembling as she slowly sank onto him.

"Oh yes, indeed…" Alucard held her tighter, his muscles on edge as he came sheathed inside to the base.

Greta nearly cried out at the first thrust, his clawed hands over her as he melded his mouth to hers again. They fell into a rhythm, wrapped around each other and Greta fell harder against him, meeting his movements halfway, delighting in that tight, perfect fit. It was beatific, riding him this way, his hips finding an angle that brought her closer and closer to crushing relief—

Suddenly, the world turned as his grip turned to steel, and Alucard tensed beneath her, easily flipping them over. Pale gold strands ghosted her face and the woman bound one leg around him as he grasped her chin and arched his back, leaving her nearly empty; Greta sighed at the loss of contact, staring longingly into those burning embers. He was still beautiful, but now there was an edge to him; sharp, and dangerous.

Alucard looked down at her with a fanged grin on his elated features, and the woman was not prepared.

"Oh, no you don't—" she gasped.

He drove into her so hard Greta nearly shattered then and there, spewing a colorful expletive over a mewl. She traced the taut lines of his body, drunk on the fragrance of his rawness as he did it again; and again.

"You will have to forgive me," Alucard spoke into her hair and though weakened by this and aroused out of her mind, Greta chuckled softly as he took her. She felt her way down his working back to his backside, urging him deeper. She had never clung to anything for too long in life; but now she clung to him, and how he carefully ground her into shards and flickers.

Just when she was close again, Alucard crashed into her one last time before tilting her over on her belly. The woman was a little dazed as he layered himself atop her, hard and unyielding. Alucard arched his hips briefly and his hand found her center, fingers sleeking along her wetness, teasing her swollen nub of pleasure.

"Open for me," his voice came low and harsh in her ear; barely recognizable.

One strong hand grasped a fistful of her hair as the other reached around her waist, and her cheek was pushed none too gently into the heavy satin pillow; she could not move at all. Biting her lips to bruise, Greta felt the hard head of his cock between her legs, seeking and filling her. She cried muffled into the pillow as his hips snapped against her once, and her hand shot out over the bedspread to clutch at something, anything; he released her hair and reached, fingers lacing with hers. His breathing was erratic, and as he slid deeper inside Alucard murmured things that quickened her heart, his thrusts slow and hard and desperate.

His heart thumped so fast he thought he would faint from the tight heat around him and Alucard stilled, tilting his hips to one side, then the other, enjoying the heat and suction as he hid his face in the disheveled fall of her hair.

Greta squirmed when he dragged his cock through her again, rougher than before, and Alucard barely heard her whimpering beneath him. He grasped at the part of his sanity that was not drunk on her blood. "Am I harming you? You must... tell me," he whispered, going slower.

"N… No…" Her voice was smothered into the pillow. "Please, don't stop… Adrian, please…"

So he didn't, pounding her into the bed until she cried out again; the pressure around his cock weakened his arms as the woman arched her rear, shivering and calling his name, begging for him, grasping him in the throes of addictive, spasming relief.

Blood roaring in his ears, Alucard rested his head on her shoulder. Being so close, so wanted, and the soft, slick hotness sent a stab of bliss down his body. "I might… I will—"

"Yes!"

At her hoarse cry, Alucard hastily turned her on her back again and held Greta close, choosing a fast, instinctual pace that once more sent the woman over the edge. His grip hurt as he ceased suddenly, shivering against her once as fire lashed low in his abdomen, his insides an insane knot of spiked sensations. His vision darkened to red and with one last slap of his hips, Alucard splintered to pieces; his own release bolted through him, shearing his tightly wound nerves to smithers. He moaned helplessly into her mouth, jerking and spasming and spilling into her, crushing Greta to him.

The sheets were ruffled and crumpled around them as stillness fell, and Greta hedged them on their side, one hand smoothing pale strands of wet hair from his temples. His breathing was hitched, his eyes half-closed. Their bodies glistened with the effort as they lay there sated and tangled. The candles Alucard lit had long been extinguished, and the fire in the hearth burned lower.

He traced the side of her waist with his palm, features softened in contentment, his eyes a warm copper. "Was this… retribution enough? For earlier," he asked. His half-erect cock twitched at her slightest movement as Greta brought her leg to straddle his hip.

Her lips quivered against a serene smile. "I haven't quite decided," she said, a finger to her chin in mock reflection.

His eyes narrowed, and the woman was treated to a playful arched eyebrow. "I see." Alucard kissed her shoulder. "Just so you know, I have no qualms whatsoever with being indebted... like this."

Sighing, the woman lowered her head into his chest, basking in the gentle onset of a blooming afterglow. "Neither do I, Adrian. Neither do I."

Bantering came easier than speaking of what had just changed. Other talk could wait. All else could wait, at least for a while.

END