Originally this was written a while back on livejournal for the smut69 challenge for prompt 26 "Corset", but I decided to give it a go here.
Set during the movie right after the All Hallows Eve Ball. Anna/Gabriel. This is rated M for a good reason, if that is not your cup of tea or if you are not of age, please do not read. Contains explicit sex!
The inn had been nearly in complete darkness when their strange party reached the door. Van Helsing's manic banging brought the inn keeper to the door; dressed only in his pyjamas and angry as a bear woken in mid winter. Anna stood to the side, shivering and trying to bring some warmth back into her limbs. The red monstrosity Dracula had forced her into hung limply around her. Carl exchanged some soothing words with the keeper in Bulgarian and finally the burly man motioned them inside. The flickering light of the candle gave very poor light to the dingy hallway and Anna tripped over her dress on the stairs. Van Helsing's hand shot out even before she had properly lost her balance. His grip was bruising and in the low light Anna thought she could see something feral in the man's eyes, but he turned away and they continued on as nothing had happened.
The room was small with a modest bed shoved into the corner. An oil lamp gave shadowy lighting to the sloping ceiling. Slowly she peeled off her wet gloves and dropped them with a splat onto the rickety table next to the door. She reached behind her to undo the corset but her fingers could barely reach the laces. She tried to reach the knot over her shoulder, but could again only hook her nails around it. She took a deep breath and tried again, but the laces refused to give in, the pulling only made the corset tighter.
She was struggling properly now, fingers desperately clawing at the wet laces but the knot refused to give in. She caught a look of herself in the dark window. Bent backwards, limp curls escaping the hair bands and the horrid dress, which refused to be undone; and the colour, which was just adding insult to injury. For a moment she considered trying to wake the innkeeper's wife, but considering his foul mood, it would not be wise to barge in on his family as well. The second though was for any kind of weaponry, a sword would be perfect. However, she had been stripped from all of her weapons when she had been brought to Dracula's palace. Anna shivered violently at the memory and forced her elbow higher behind her back and pulled at the strings. The laces only tightened pulling the bones tighter around her waist. She could feel the tears now, clogging in her throat, but Anna refused to give into them. Furiously she continued to pull ignoring the tightening of her lungs. The tears started sliding down, and suddenly someone knocked on the door.
They did not even wait for her reply as the door creaked open and Van Helsing slid into the room. She was twisted around; arms bent around her back pulling furiously at the strings. Anna could see his reflection behind her in the window; body frozen at the door. She tried to control her breathing, fighting to get her sobs under control. Then he moved, walking behind her. Without any concern for decorum he battered he hands away and laced his fingers around the knot.
He tugged on the knot, trying to pry the wet laces apart. Each tug pulled the bones tighter and Anna was gasping for breath. She tore herself away from him trying to reach for the knot by herself again.
"Get it off, get it off!"
She knew she was being hysterical. Screeching like a banshee in the middle of the night. The corset was too tight and she was cold and wet. His huge palm covered the base of her neck and he made silent shushing noises right by her ear. She could hear the click of the switch blade, and then freedom as the laces cut. She slumped forward; palms to the coarse windowsill. The sides of the corset slid apart and Gabriel's hand was still on her neck, and she did not care. He moved forward and Anna could feel the heat of his body radiating against her skin. She could see him bending towards her neck in the glass. Smelling her. She had seen glimpses of the wolf in him, but this was different, like in the hallway, it seemed more personal. His hand slid down her spine and Anna shivered.
"Dracula dressed you."
It was not a question and she nodded into the cold glass.
"What else did he do?"
His eyes met hers in the reflection, and now there was great softness in them, which had been missing in the hall. His fingers slowly travelled up and down her sides inside the open corset. She refused to think about the cold hands smoothing over her, or being unable to move, or about the darkness that engulfed her mind so suddenly.
"Nothing. He did not seem very interested in me when I was alive."
His palms spread out over her ribs, soothing the aching skin there. His nose was pressed against the nape of her neck, breath ghosting over the short hairs in the back of her scull. And Anna did not want him to stop or to go away. Maybe the red was a sign. Slowly his finger were creeping upwards, pads of his thumbs brushing the underside of her breast.
His voice was reluctant and breathless spoken into the back of her head.
"You need to tell me to stop. Because I can't."
"I don't want you to stop."
She leaned into him and his hands covered her breasts inside the loosened corset.
"I need you to make him go away."
He growled in her ear and before Anna could ask anything more he had flipped her around and pushed her onto the sill. Gabriel's eyes were almost black now, but she was not afraid. The rage of the wolf in the water had been so all consuming and sudden. But now he felt softer against her, but not less dangerous. His lips were hovering above hers, nose brushing against hers, forcing her to close the gap between their mouths. Maybe it was his way of asking consent. And then he was devouring her lips; tongue and teeth against her bottom lip.
His hair felt good between her fingers and she grabbed more of it and pulled his head closer to her own. Gabriel growled against her lips and forced her arms down as he tore the corset off. His coarse palms roamed over her breasts, thumbs brushing over her sensitive nipples. Anna jerked at the touch, turning her head away, cheek pressed against the cold glass. Gabriel seemed to wake up from his frenzy and his hands stilled, and then gently cupped her flesh. Her hands gripped the grainy wood of the sill, tensing at his touch. Slowly his lips travelled from her cheek down her throat, his breath ghosting warm in the valley between her breasts. She bit her lip and stopped all the sounds which tried to escape, but let her fingers bury themselves into the back of his neck.
Slowly his thumbs brushed over her nipples again, and she was slowly getting accustomed to the alien touch. His lips gentled over her nipple, and now she pushed into it. She could feel his palms travelling on her legs, pushing the heavy fabrics of the dress up her thighs.
And then suddenly the touch was gone and he was on his knees, palms supporting her thighs and pushing the massive folds of her skirt aside, pressing her naked back against the cold glass. She tried to push him off, unaccustomed to anything touching her, but then his head was buried between her legs, and his tongue was pushing, and Anna gasped in surprise. She grabbed onto the window pane, gasping and falling forward as something pushed inside. She clutched his shoulder, pressing her nails hard into the fabric, panicked breaths ghosting the cool air. He stilled, and now she could feel everything; the strong breaths against the exposed flesh, the still fingers in her, which did not hurt as she had though they would. And then his tongue was back, pushing slow circles, over and over again and her breath started to form into moans. And then there were more fingers and everything was stronger and she wailed as something burst open between her legs. She shivered and rocked, held up by the strength of his shoulders.
Her legs shook as she slid down from the sill, Gabriel's arms supporting her weight. Her knees connected with the wooden floor painfully, but his hands were still on the back of her thighs, fingers travelling up and down. His eyes were dark, irises completely swallowed by the black. She was still breathless, but he did not give her time to think. Gracefully he pushed off the floor, arm under her legs, supporting her against his chest.
Were all brides carried to their marital beds, were they as ravenous as she was, Anna wondered. She lay back, hooking her fingers in the rickety headboard and watched him undress. For the first time in days she felt in control, felt powerful. Gabriel made fast work of his own clothes and of the laces holding her skirt in place and threw it to the floor to join his costume. Her white stockings were barely help up by silk ribbons. He slid them down her legs almost reverently, calloused fingers caressing the arch of her foot. Do all husbands undress their new brides with such care?
He had scars on his back, thick and angular, protruding from the skin. Anna did not care. She had scars too, born from a life where she could never be a bride. But he in turn did not care. He pushed her legs apart, lifting her right knee over his shoulder. His fingers caressed her open again and she shivered. And he kissed her as he pushed in, swallowing her growl. It did not hurt, he filled her and she felt perfect; open. She wanted to know why people feared this. But he moved in her and she could not think about anything at all. His fingers caressed her knee slung over his shoulder and he asked if she was allright. She nodded and kissed him harder, wanting to remember this, wanting to take this with her to death. The he pushed in again, and she could only moan in sync with his thrusts. He pushed his palm between their bodies and pushed down and she howled and then she clenched and shivered around him again. He tensed like bowstring above her, eyes boring into hers, he pushed against her and shuddered and then collapsed against her chest.
Her restless hands ran over his back, smoothing out the scars and he hummed against her throat and Anna smiled. Gently she pushed him to the side of the small bed and got up. The cold air felt cruel against her heated skin. She kicked the dress towards the corner as she passed it, making her way to the window. She could see faint light between the rows of houses, but it was still very early.
"Is it because of him? That you hate the dress so?"
Gabriel was sitting up the narrow bed, back resting against the wall. Anna looked on at the approaching dawn and shook her head.
"Honest gypsy women never wear red."
Gabriel nodded, but Anna continued.
"Except on their wedding day to show that they are still a virgin."
Gabriel was silent for a long time and Anna shivered in the cold of the room. She should go find some clothes and weapons from somewhere. The patrons of the inn would be waking up and they would have to return to Vaseria as soon as possible.
"But I guess that is a moot point now, anyway."
She looked at him now, and for a moment he seemed speechless. He moved up on the bed starting to say something, but Anna shook her head.
"Don't. I do not want you to say anything."
Many brides wear red among her people. Others run away so they do not have to. Many live with fear on their wedding day, dreading the marital duties of a wife. Now she does not have to.
I have a few more of these (shorter though). If you would be interested in seeing them here, let me know!