Tags: [mlw][mdni][squirting][praise][make love not war][mating press]
Alucard's voice is quiet, and you stir, eyes wide, and you clutch your covers to your chest, watching as he stands at your window, crimson jacket tossed over the backrest of the chair of your vanity, bloody gaze locked on the tumbling snowflakes outside the glass.
"So... Pure. Untouched by any—"
"Why are you in my room in the middle of the night?"
Your question rips Alucard away from his reverie, but he simply narrows his eyes, gaze hardening just a bit but he keeps his gaze on the tundra storm.
"Everything seems so far away during these winters. They're nothing like the winters before my Master. These ones.... They're..."
He pauses, searching for a word.
Shaggy black hair cascades down his back, unkempt, and wild, bangs hiding portions of his face, everything else only being lit by the faint moonlight that pours through your now open window.
And he turns to you, eyes glowing like the embers of a dying flame, shadows playing on his features in the most joyful way ever. Like children in a schoolyard.
"Alucard, I'd really love for you to continue your soliloquy but it's 2 in the morning and it's cold outside. This is prime time sleeping weather." You huff, pulling the quilt higher up, covering your chin in the promising warmth. "Plus, I've already got my special socks on."
Alucard raises a perfect brow, a twitch of amusement in the corner of his mouth. "Special socks?" He repeats and watches, as you poke your woolen toes out from under the thick blankets. Blue wool with white snowflakes knitted sparsely, very clear winter themed, especially when he catches a glimpse of those puffball tassels attached to the socks.
Alucard's mouth forms an 'o' shape, his head tilting and he takes a seat at the end of your bed, frosty fingers creeping up the leg of your sweatpants, wrapping around your calf and jerking you roughly towards him.
You yelp, when you find yourself straddling Alucard's lap, broad thighs still clad in tailored suit pants, keeping your legs spread and his nose brushes against muscles of your neck, stopping to inhale the scent at your pulse point.
Strong hands bracket your hips, thumbs brushing over the exposed skin of your hips and Alucard forced you to sit down, a silent order that you knew better to obey.
He could suck you dry, faster than you could him.
"You smell..." Alucard trails off, and your lips part in offense.
"The fuck you mean I smell?" You scoff, brows knitting into a frown but all that aggression melts away when he lets out that melodious chuckle.
It pairs with the dim moonlight so well, each bubbly change of cadence accompanying the dappling moonlight.
"I was going to say, you smell like cinnamon and sunshine." Alucard hums lowly. "But you had to go and be the impatient little thing you are."
Cool hands move to rest on the small of your back, and Alucard tilts his head back, meeting your gaze with a look that could almost be mistaken for a lovesick puppy.
"Can I have my Christmas present early?"
Alucard's got you locked into place, knees spread, face pressed against the unruly covers. One arm is pinned to the small of your back, the other tucked beneath your cheek, causing you to drool mindlessly as he coaxes the next orgasm from your already sensitive body.
"Alucard... Please.." Your plea is desperate, your ass pressing against him because once more, he's teasing you with the rosy and flushed crown of his cock, ridged head brushing and wading between your slippery folds, nudging at your needy clit.
"Still so impatient, aren't you?"
He teases, notching his cock at your fluttering entrance, pushing in just halfway before pulling back, tutting you playfully while his free hand rests on one fat globe of your ass.
"Not wet enough." Alucard feigns disappointment, as he pushes your fat apart, leaning a bit lower and spitting. Cool saliva travels down the cleft of your ass, joining the mass of wetness between your thighs and your legs nearly shake at the sensation.
Alucard roughly reaches for your ankle, shifting your position until you're on your back, eyes wide and bleary, your chest heaving and nipples pebbled from the frosty air and body flushed.
And he looks down at your slippery cunt, slick and glistening with spit and your cum, and he shakes his head.
He shifts, lowering himself until Alucard's broad shoulders are pressed against your thighs, one thigh tossed over his shoulder and the other laying to his side.
A long tongue slivers from between his lips, sweeping up the fluids that make a puddle against your hole, before spitting them back, and your back arches at the sensation.
Fingers find their way into his hair but you're not sure if it's to push him away, or pull him closer, but when his lips latch around your sloppy clit, your eyes roll back in your head and you claw at his scalp.
You shake your head, hair messy and eyes watering as his hand creeps up your thigh, gloved and he tugs the fabric off with his teeth, spitting it across the room before his palm presses to your swollen folds.
And he rubs his hand fast, side to side, like he's trying to give you a friction burn in the best way possible.
And you gasp, nails digging into his flesh and your legs shake, eyes glazing over as droplets start to splatter, against your inner thighs, against his awaiting tongue and his face.
Alucard makes you squirt with ease. A fact that's almost scary.
But you don't have time to dwell on it, not when he's sinking into you while your body's still pliable and easy.
Alucard shifts your body beneath him, your toes touching the wall above your head, his face hovering over yours and his hair falls forward, an obsidian curtain hiding the stolen kisses Alucard snatches while you're too overstimulated each time he bottoms out.
Alucard's hands rest above your head, his forearms supporting his weight as he makes you take the deepest and slowest thrusts known to man. Each movement made to have you feel every single inch, forcing your insides to commit his shape to memory, and he groans, low in your ear.
"You take me so well, pretty." He praises, pressing a kiss to your temple as he shifts, angling his hips until his cock head brushes against that spongy spot that only he seems to be able to hit.
Your voice is a mess of moans and mewls, a cacophony of lewd sounds accompanied by the sound of sticky flesh hitting sticky flesh, and Alucard rolls his hips, his tip grinding against the plug of your cervix and you gasp.
"I'm so deep, aren't I?" He teases you. And you merely nod your head, fat tears rolling down your cheeks because it's just so fucking good.
"You're such a perfect thing." Alucard whispers. "Bathed in moonlight, crying because of how good it feels."
His tongue laps up your tears and if you were any more coherent, you'd whine about the fact that he's getting pussy juice on your face but you can't.
Not when he's kissing you so softly (internally and externally) and he's coaching you through another orgasm.
Alucard coos softly, hips rocking into you with such a sweet gentleness, dragging against your inside over and over, as his pelvis bone presses against your needy clit. And your eyes are watering before you know it.
Your cum leaking out around Alucard, drool running down your cheek but not for long before he laps it up like a greedy mutt, crooning praises into your ear.
They've started to meld together. The "so pretty"s, the "good girl"s, the "that's it". All of them.
All you can really focus on is when Alucard pulls out of you, his cock resting on your lower belly to give you a visual of just how deep he was.
And scientifically speaking, you shouldn't even be alive. But then again, should any of us?
But you survive it, because like Gloria Gaynor said, 'I will survive', because as long as you know how to love, you know you'll stay alive.
And if you didn't know how to love, you knew how to take it because Alucard wasn't fucking. He was making thorough love and by God, were you taking it like a champ.
You breathe out shakily, eyes rolling back in your head as he slips back inside, pulling out all the way, before slowly sinking in once more.
"Hm?" He hums, crimson gaze locked on where you take him so easily, amused and enchanted by the sight.
"You don't— have to pull out... Like... When you need to finish.."
You mutter softly, eyes barely open but your legs are open enough for the both.
You've never let Alucard finish inside. Always forcing him to pull out because of the fear of pregnancy and the worry that vampire cum may not adhere to the laws of a NuvaRing, an IUD or even a condom.
Alucard's shoulders stiffen when you speak, head tilting and you almost wish you didn't catch that glinting smile through the teariness of your eyes and the shadows of your lashes.
