She is the first to act.

It doesn't happen according to plan; rare it is that anything ever does. She did not fall asleep that night with the conviction that she would grant this monster her first kiss; she did not think that after thirty long years, he would return to her.

She is a virgin in every sense but in the way she moans and arches into him; the way she bites her tongue just hard enough to draw blood; the way her long fingers twist themselves into his hair in the only way she can wordlessly scream her hunger.

He is still, at first. Hesitant. He has pillaged and killed and blasphemed and taken so many women so far from the brink that they were left breathless and immobile long after his desire was fulfilled. But with her, he pauses. It's almost like this is his first kiss.

In a way, it is. It is the first one that matters.

Countess, he thinks. My countess. So many listless centuries, days and nights and all in-between. I am canonized by your lips; you are damned by mine.

It's quiet, in his mind. The emptiness of the souls he has left behind makes him falter, makes him aware of every result of his actions.

Do I dare disturb the universe?

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each; I do not think they will sing to me.

Then he tastes her blood. The warmth of her mouth. The softness of her lips. The smoothness of her skin. He feels her hot breath on his cheek, smells her desire.

The selfish monster inside him cannot resist her anymore.

He takes.

There's a rumbling, deep in his throat. Integra feels it, and it produces a heady shiver of fear and excitement down her spine. The sound is low and drawn and bestial and when she opens her eyes and sees the voracity undulating in his hellfire gaze, she knows he is undone. He is the thread and she is the artisan, unmaking him and formulating him anew.

His hands, pointed to sharp claws beneath his gloves, clutch at her silver mane and slender back. If his excitement gets the better of him for even a moment, he could shatter her to pieces.

She draws his lower lip between her teeth and bites just hard enough to send delicious waves of pain and pleasure coursing through his veins.

Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships,

And burnt the topless towers of Ilium?

Sweet Integra, make me immortal with a kiss.

Her lips suck forth my soul: see where it flies!

Come, Integra come, give me my soul again.

Here I will dwell, for heaven is in these lips,

And all is dross that is not Integra.

His hand trails lower.

He can feel her warmth through her silk nightgown; the curvature of her ribs and waist, the thrumming of her heart and the whirring of her blood.

It trails lower and lower until it reaches her lower abdomen. Her nightgown is bunched up to her hips. When did her legs wrap around him?

Gooseflesh peppers her skin. In this moment, Integra wonders whether it's ice or fire that burns her so, makes her so feverish.

She pierces him with her gaze. Dares him to move further.

There's madness in his eyes, he is sure.

His hand draws slowly downwards and his fingers graze the velvet flesh between her thighs.

Integra lets out just the tiniest whimper.

His fingers slide inside her, experimentally. He's fascinated by the sensation of her flesh, caught up in the clench of her jaw as he ventures over her bud and her hiss when he draws away.

He takes far too long. His ministrations have her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and every inch of her is stiffened in want.

With a fierce growl of her own, she flips him over onto his back and takes the lead. Integra is on all fours on top of him, palms flat and pressing down on his chest. Alucard watches her, wide eyed and an amazed grin on his face as she says to him, her voice low and husky and commanding:

"Take off your shirt."

His shirt vanishes beneath her, as if it's never existed at all. His chest is suddenly bare beneath her. She doesn't blush. She's waited three decades to see him this way, and he's everything she imagined. He has a broad, but lean frame, his muscles are pronounced and his complexion in the moonlight is almost as pale as her hair. His bangs, in lying back, have unveiled his face, and what a face it is that lies beneath her. Sharp and defined, those full lips drawn back in a roguish grin.

You beautiful idiot, she thinks, leaning down to tenderly kiss those lips. "How dare you make me wait so long," she whispers, leaning her forehead against his. Her hair is a curtain, hiding them from the world. The only one who can see the vulnerability in her beautiful blue eye is Alucard.

His smile vanishes, and he sweeps her hair behind her ear then cups her cheek, where just above his fingers rests the patch covering her eye. "I can make up for it," he says, just as quietly, his voice pleading. "I can still give you eternity. I can give you the world. Just say the words, and you shall have everything."

"Everything but my soul."

He gives no reply to her statement. She does not expect one.

"If you do this, you won't see me again after you die. Never again. I love you."

It's the first time he's said those words to her.

"Don't you love me?"

His words cut deep. They drag icy talons through her scarred heart and rend it anew. She remembers asking this question herself, every day for the past thirty years.

It's time to make a decision. He is waiting right below her, waiting for her to decide, waiting for her sacrifice.

She thinks of her father. She thinks of her mother.

She wonders about Walter.

She thinks of Seras and Alucard.

Frail, sobbing children indeed, Integra thinks. Perhaps we all are, in the end.

"I'm the last, Alucard," Integra says. "You will be free."

"I will die," he replies. "There is nothing after you."

There is nothing after you.

Those words echo through her brain.

"But at my back I always hear

Time's winged chariot hurrying near;

And yonder all before us lie

Deserts of vast eternity."

Integra lets fall that poetry from her lips, leaning back to study him. "You and I would have half a lifetime before us, then, before we parted. Would you, who loves me so, condemn me to the fate of a vampire, to commit monstrosities, to let my quaint honor turn to dust and my lust turn to ashes?"

Alucard smiles again, this time sadly. "Andrew Marvell never lived past a century, and I have lived six. And I say to you, Integra: six millennia will pass, and I will love you still, and with as much vigor as I do now. It is up to you whether you will feel the same."

Integra closes her eye.

Do not forgive me father, for I will sin.

Integra rises from Alucard's body, leaving him bereft. She can feel his pain and confusion without even looking.

"Alucard," she says. She opens her eye and finds him watching her closely, seriously. She moves all her hair to one side, baring the slope of her neck.

She closes her eye again.

"Drink my blood."

She feels him smile against her skin.

"Yes, my master."

I wrote the beginning of this as an experimental sex scene, since I've never written one before and wanted to test my mettle. It wound up being angsty, and it wasn't a REAL sex scene- more of a lime than lemon. But hey, I had fun writing this. I'll post it as completed, but there's a chance I may revisit this story to write how Integra's life changes after becoming a vampire, maybe spruce up the beginning and lead into the heavy makeout session, rather than just jump right in. I also rarely write in present tense (as my followers may or may not have noticed), so I hope there aren't any discrepancies. Hope you enjoyed!