Author's note: This came from another ficlet request over at LiveJournal, my friend Blood Moon Lycan requesting this one. It might be a bit OOC, but mainly because I couldn't give enough explanation in such few words, since the ficlets have to be between 100-1000 words. Hopefully it's still enjoyable, and BML liked it, so I'm uploading it here. Please review, reviews are a wonderful, blessed thing. Oh, and here are the ficlet requirements set up by BML:
Fandom: Van Helsing
Line: "Patience is a virtue."
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. They belong to Stephen Sommers and Universal Studios. I mean no copyright infringement. Please do not sue me. Savvy?
Thinking was impossible at this point. The feel of lips and teeth and tongue against neck and throat, and particularly jugular, was maddening and wonderful and not nearly enough. Soft gasps and moans and purrs of pleasure were coming from that neck as the mouth continued its treatment.
But it wasn't fair. Marishka wasn't supposed to be the one that was teased. She was supposed to be teasing Velkan.
"Stop," she finally managed to form, whispering it out huskily, and even to her own ears it sounded more like "Don't stop or I'm going to die."
Velkan did stop though, pulling away with a smirk that would make Dracula proud. He arched an eyebrow as he cocked his head to the side, feigning confusion. He was still driving Marishka mad even without contact. Only this teasing was far worse, and even more damaging to her pride.
"Why, dear Marishka, are you not enjoying the attention?" he asked her, his tone mocking.
Marishka's chocolate brown eyes narrowed with hatred flaming within the steady lust. "No," she lied in a hiss.
"Ah," he said and nodded. "Well, that is good," he then added and grinned. "Because I am not supposed to be pleasing my enemy, am I?" His mouth was then pressed against hers before she could say a thing, his tongue moving past blood stained lips and fangs to toy with her own. His hands held her wrists tightly.
She could break free from his grip easily. No question. She knew that, he knew that. And that was why he could be so insufferably cocky. It ate at her, but not as much as that tingling, tight ache between her thighs.
"Velkan," she whispered, her voice still husky as ever, as he kissed down her neck quickly, moving to her breasts. She was about to say his name again when he did not stop his journey down her body, not even saying a word, but she felt a tongue snake our of that mouth of his. "Oh, yes," she said before she could stop herself.
So, that was why he hadn't said anything. Can't say anything if your tongue is tied up with something else.
But his teasing was making the ache worse, and she arched up, into him, rocking her hips against him. She was practically whimpering with want as she tried to make him hurry up.
She, a bride of Dracula, was in the chambers of Velkan Valerious, her master's enemy, and was practically whimpering for him to do what only Dracula was allowed to do. Of course, it was Dracula's fault she was on the gypsy prince's bed. He had sent her here to make the prince want that which would damn him.
Well, Dracula was getting his wish alright.
"Velkan!" she exclaimed, pleading with him to just finish the merciless teasing and finish the act. She did not like waiting this long. She didn't like waiting period, but that was beside the point.
The gypsy prince moved up, grinning again. "Patience is a virtue," he whispered cheekily, then kissed quickly down her neck, between her breasts, down her stomach, licking her navel, and then he had moved up, and in.
Marishka cried out, and she could have sworn he made her reach release instantly. But as he thrust, over and over, she lost track of what was climax and what was starting anew. It was all one long release, blinding and searing, making her cold body burn with human fire as he finally finished and grunted loudly.
Panting, he collapsed on top of her, , his weight not really bothering her. Well, it was, but not in the way it should have. It was, nice. Too nice. She wasn't supposed to like it. She liked it though, but she shouldn't.
Especially after making her beg.
"So, not bad for a human, am I?" he whispered in her ear, confidently.
Marishka growled, but they both knew it was true. He was good. Too good. And that was headed in the same direction the matter of his weight had gone. So, Marishka decided to get rid of both of those subjects.
She flipped them over, straddling him now. Her lips formed a smirk of her own now, beautiful and cruel, something Velkan had seen in his dreams even though he had tried to forget that. Leaning down, she began to assault his neck in a similar way he had done with hers. Fangs brushed over his racing pulse, the loud, fast hum of it sweet music to her ears.
"Marishka," he groaned out, and she pulled up, grinning widely and exposing fangs that were not elongated for turning or killing, not this time at least.
"Patience is a virtue."