Author's note: Well, this is probably the dirtiest fic I have ever written. But, it fit the story and the character, I think. The title is from a Marilyn Manson song, Slutgarden I believe. I despise the song with a passion, but it does seem like a Victor song, and the lyrics fit in a way. Anyway, the story isn't overly graphic, but it doe shave the F word once. Probably the only time you'll ever get the F word in a fic from me. Hopefully it's good though. Please review, reviews are an addiction that my muse doesn't get her fix of that often.

Disclaimer: I do not own Victor Helios or Erika Helios or anything to do with Frankenstein. I am making no profit or any claim with this fic, it's merely to appease my muse. So please do not sue me. Savvy?


WHEN I SAID SWEET

Victor's mind, if he had been able to understand his thoughts at that moment, was a jumbled mess, confused and contradicting itself, trying to decipher lines and comprehend differences that didn't make sense. He was a man bound to logic and science and above all, perfection.

And right now, he was breaking those boundaries. He was excited and disappointed at the same time. He was doing what he loved doing, he was with Erika, thrusting viciously, just as he had always loved. He wouldn't call it "fucking" because he hated the word.

But that was what he had always preferred, that was how he got off.

Erika Four had always wanted to be made love to, though she had never said so. But she had expressed it in her eyes, her touch, her mouth, her whole body and the way it moved. She had enjoyed their passion, but she had wanted it be cooled to a steady warmth every so often, instead of being scorched inside out.

He had never wanted to though. Not until now.

This Erika wanted it vicious and rough, wanted it searing and pounding, she enjoyed it, relished it, relished him. She was wanting exactly what he had always wanted, but now he found himself wanting something else.

Victor now wanted to make love, to take his time and pleasure her slowly, bringing her to her rapture over and over, slowly but steadily, making her writhe with need as she begged him to just finish. He wanted to make himself wait, make himself earn his orgasm inside her.

She wanted it now though, and he still enjoyed the more primal method of sex. She moaned and whimpered and cried for more, for more, harder, deeper, faster, cried for him never to stop, not until she bled. She clawed at his back, she nipped at his neck, bit into his shoulder, did everything he had wanted the previous Erika to do.

And now, if he had paused to try and pinpoint the nagging feeling at the back of his neck, put aside the fire beneath his skin, the pleasure tingling at the bottom of his spine and threatening to make him burst, he would have realized that now, he wanted to be sweet.

He had always wanted it dirty, until now. He made everyone believe he was calm, controlled, not warm or kind, but not animalistic in any way. He had made them all believe he was loving and gentle as much as possible with his wife, when in truth he had always despised it.

Until now.

Now, as he finally came inside her, finding release and shoving her into her own violent peak, he regretted the fierceness of it, the abruptness, the fast, rushed, clinging, thrusting dance into the rapture. Now, he wanted to make love.

Perhaps next time, he and she both could learn how. Perhaps then he could forgive himself for wishing he had given in to the imperfect creation's desire, and forget that he had almost loved her.

They laid there, him on top, her beneath and not complaining about the weight. Panting, sweating, tired and sated, they laid there. And then he was on his side, cradling her to him as if she were the most precious treasure. And indeed, she was. He had made her to be that, and he saw her as that.

This time, he would treat her that way. There would be no hidden meanings when he said she was beautiful, when he said he loved her, when he pleased her. This time, he would not pretend he tried to be as gentle with her as possible.

Dirty didn't seem as exciting as it once had.