She was so fragile.

Ironically so.

She was so strong-willed, so witty, so beautiful-yet, in truth, she was fragile.

Dracula watched his fledgling and wife Shirra slumber. The (bloodstained) blankets covering her nude form harshly contrasted with her fair skin. He held shreds of what used to be bed sheets in his hand. He wore a black robe over himself. A rare expression was etched on his darkly beautiful face: Concern.

They had started off ever so gently. However...

Dracula parted her legs gently. To push it apart brutally, he would be no better than a brute trying to rape her.

"Try to relax, Shirra,"

He laughed playfully. The way she was gripping the sheets....one would think this was her first time.

To be honest, it was her second.

He ran a finger down the inner side of her thigh, invoking a moan from her. He began to rub her clit slowly, his fingers moving backwards and forwards in a silent rhythm.

"Oh..Sweet God..."

She gasped, wrapping her legs round his back and entwining her slender fingers in his hair.

"You have quite high standards."

He remarked wryly. His fingers soon became wet with a clear body fluid, which he trailed over her breasts. He lapped up the remaining fluids. How interesting this nectar tasted.

Shirra felt white fire pool around her legs as his tongue took his fingers' place, exploring a now not-so- virgin territory. Her nails shredded the sheets. She threw her head back and cried his name-only to have Vladislaus cup her mouth. He withdrew his tongue to whisper,

"Not yet.,"

before letting her sweet nectar slide down his throat. Oh Sweetness...

He straddled her thighs and pulled her closer to him.

"This will hurt somewhat..."

He whispered. In an instant, he thrust in HARD. She screamed his name –yet pain seemed to color the tone.

"Shirra?"

He asked, pulling out of her writhing form. To his horror, he saw the sheets turn bloody beneath her. He tore the remaining sheets to shreds and tried to stem the bleeding. Damnit, she was young and new to this...he should have known better...

That she may have been strong and spirited-but in reality, she was more fragile than she let on....

Dracula awoke. He must have dozed off. He turned to see if his wife was still asleep-and found her gone. So was his coat and boots...

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Each step was an exercise in pain for Shirra, yet she knew she couldn't stay in bed forever.

Night had fallen again. Tonight, there was no moon in the sky, only the sprinkle of silvery stars upon that black parchment of Night. The cool atmosphere filled to infiltrate the thick coat and boots she wore.

She placed a hand to her abdomen. She was new at this; she'd get used to this. She only hoped Vlad.(as she affectionately termed him) wouldn't hate himself for hurting her.

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Vladislaus had to stifle a laugh. She looked priceless wearing (ONLY) his coat and boots.

Like a child playing charades...

He thought. He wondered how much of that child trapped in her did she have...

"Vlad?"

She turned to face him, a small smile on her face.

"Forgive me..."

"What?"

"I hurt you earlier-

She looked at him with surprise. Since when did he apologize for his actions?

"Doesn't matter, my Lord-

"Please, call me Vladislaus."

She smiled and kissed him.

"Care to look at the stars tonight?"

She asked, like an eager child.

"Of course."

He said, encircling his arms round her. She leaned on him sensually as both watched the stars play in their dark playground that night, the pain forgotten.