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Consequence of Desire	By : psyca Category: Hellsing > General Views: 5014 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Consequence of Desire
- 1
Consequence of Desire

Sir Integra Wingates Hellsing sank gratefully into the tepid bath. The warm scented water slowly began repairing her frayed nerves and tired muscles. She allowed her head to lie back against the back edge of the tub, platinum hair hanging over the edge to avoid the water. She sighed deeply, the perpetual frown on her face relaxing to a more neutral expression.

God she hated summer heat.

It was an unusually hot summer in London, the temperature reaching upwards of 30 degrees. The resulting thunderstorms had been fierce and frequent, leaving an oppressive humidity in their wake. Integra didn’t mind the thunderstorms so much as the unbearable tension they left behind. She had enough tension in her life, thank you, she did not need Mother Nature adding to the mix.

The heat was reminiscent of her sixteenth summer, just seven years ago. That year, the heat and humidity had wreaked havoc on her adolescent hormones, and the tension was not to be denied. Only, she had to be more creative about how she let it out.

Boyfriends had been out of the question. She was already up to her elbows in running the Hellsing organization, and had little time for dalliances. Besides, they had nothing on the men she was surrounded by. The soldiers were all very nice looking, for the most part, but the young Integra held a torch for someone. . . older, more sophisticated.

Integra shifted her legs in the water, causing it to lap gently at the edges of her skin. The desire that had rushed through her body like hot flame that summer was being rekindled in memory. She willingly followed her mind back to that heady time.

~*~

Only an idiot would deny that Integra enjoyed giving orders. They just had to see the satisfied glint in her cold blue eyes when a mission was completed to her specifications, or the icy fury when a soldier’s hesitation cost another innocent life. However, she had some other desires for one man that met her every need, spoken or not. She just had to want, and he delivered.

For almost every need.

It may have been considered unseemly at best, sick at worst, but the teenaged Integra could not deny her attraction to the incredibly efficient and deadly Walter. His age did not faze her in the slightest. Though the man was nearly sixty, his sharp English features were still smooth and handsome. The lines he did have added to the appeal. When he served her tea, Integra found herself focusing on those gloved hands, shivering internally at their capacity to handle delicate china and killing wires. Even his scent, a combination of subtle aftershave and gun oil from his weapons development, wound an invisible tension around her rushing hormones.

During the beginning of that hot summer, Integra first got the rogue idea of Walter servicing her . . . baser needs. Whispering dreams had started invading her sleep, speaking of gloved hands caressing her white thighs, warm mouths teasing every inch of skin, and a skillful tongue pleasuring her in the most intimate places. The dreams were always intense and left her sweaty and wanting.

As the summer, and the dreams, progressed, Integra further mulled her options, always the strategist. Seduction wasn’t feasible. The unflappable man would probably politely avoid her advances. It would be silly to confess feelings of love to her assistant, as there were none. She doubted he would be swayed by her words. Which left one option.

Integra Hellsing would find out just how deep Walter’s devotion to his mistress went.

On the sweltering August night in question, she had bathed meticulously, shivering in anticipation for what she was about to attempt. The doors to her balcony were flung open, the slightest of country breezes pretending to relieve the heat. The air was pregnant with moisture, black thunderclouds rolling ominously in the red sunset, promising a stormy night. She stood in the open doorway, enjoying how the light breeze played the edges of her short, white, almost-sheer nightdress. It did nothing to cool her burning skin.

Knowing with habitual certainty that Walter would be arriving at her door in moments to deliver a glass of cool juniper tea, Integra arranged herself on the bed, undoing the top two buttons on her nightdress.

Sure enough, the polite knock at her door sounded.

“Enter.”

Walter came into the room with his usual graceful efficiency, never a wasted movement. Integra eyed him hungrily, enjoying the pull of his trousers as he bent to lower the tray to her sideboard. She grinned internally as he turned to inquire after her needs, his eyes widening by a fraction at her just-clad form and quickly averting to the wall behind her. For the taciturn man, that was quite a reaction.

“Sir Integra,” he coughed slightly. “Do you require anything else of me this evening?”

“Yes, Walter, I do.” She shifted one leg up just slightly. His jaw clenched barely at the movement, eyes firmly focused on the wall.

“What is it you need,” he replied coolly, a thread of tension in his voice.

“I need you to pleasure me.”

His eyes shot to hers, disbelief evident in the rise of his eyebrows and part of his lips. A few indrawn breaths later, he seemed to gather his wits enough to respond.

“Sir Integra,” he started, bare stutter in his voice. “You can’t be asking-”

“I am asking,” she said, leaning forward with command in her tone, “for you to give me physical gratification. It is an order, Walter. Can you comply?” She sat back at the last, challenge in her gaze.

Long, heavy moments passed. The gathering storm outside added to the tension, Walter’s stiff form outlined by the flickering clouds. Integra could see the internal struggle behind his brown eyes.

One gloved hand reached up and removed his monocle, sliding it into a vest pocket. She knew in that moment that she had him. He would do anything for her.

“Yes, Sir Integra.”

He executed his order flawlessly, unbuttoning her white garment with steady hands and opening it to lie around her. He placed long, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, never presuming to take her lips. The gloves remained in place as well, rasping delightfully along her sensitive skin. Integra smiled at the flawless way he executed her command. He truly did know her every need.

Thought disappeared when he thoroughly pleasured her breasts with talented fingers and lips. She groaned at the contact, gripping the sheets beneath her. Her mind spun into nothingness when he licked and stroked at her dripping folds, heat spiraling out of control when a gloved finger teased at her virgin entrance. The finger touched inside just barely, enough to provide pleasure but not enough to compromise her. Each touch and stroke was entirely for her benefit – no extraneous groping or grasping, intently focused on her needs alone. Integra let out a long, low cry when she came, body shuddering powerfully at her first climax at another’s hands.

Walter withdrew as she came back to her senses, his touch leaving her with gentle abruptness. He stood at her bedside, waiting. She regarded him through slitted eyes, his erection difficult to miss in his tailored trousers. One more test of his devotion seemed to be in order.

“That will be all, Walter,” she said firmly, not moving from her exposed state on the bed.

The slight tick in his jaw was the only betrayal of his cool façade. He bowed slightly.

“Yes, Sir Integra.”

Integra smirked as the door closed behind her. The power that she, a slight sixteen year old, held over this man was almost intoxicating. She knew that she could never issue that order again, not without inviting further intimacies. No, this moment was to be savored and never forgotten.

Good thing she set up a hidden camera to capture the experience.

~*~

Integra stroked herself lazily in the bath as she relived the evening. The videotape of that night had been watched on countless evenings, always brining her to a sharper climax as she touched herself in rhythm with his motions. Even the unshakable Walter would be affected if he knew how often she relived that moment of power over him and pleasure at his hands. The denial of his needs made the satisfaction all the sweeter.

She’d had a few lovers since then, faceless men to deliver her from unbearable sexual frustration. All of her trysts had happened elsewhere, not seeing fit to endanger the sanctity of her bedroom or the mansion. They also left her feeling somewhat unsatisfied. Considering her high standards, she wasn’t entirely surprised.

But now, after everything that happened, recapping the experience with Walter was impossible. He had been taken, turned into a monster by the foul Nazi vampires that Hellsing fought so hard against. Even though the invasion had been put down, the threat of the freaks had not abated. She had inspected numerous scenes of innocents and freaks alike cut to pieces by very familiar wires. Grainy surveillance photos from one incident in particular showed that the vampiric Walter had lost nothing of his efficiency in dispatching enemies, but had gained a bloody madness in place of his cool demeanor. Freed from his humanity, Walter seemed to have wholly turned into the Angel of Death.

Still, that summer evening held seductive sway over her psyche. The achingly familiar heat and discomfort that this summer brought created an even sharper memory of that night. She could feel her blood singing in her veins with the same heady swiftness. Her body arched into her own touch at the memory.

A low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, breaking her reverie. It had been a while since she’d watched that tape. Perhaps it was time to pull it out again.

Integra rose from her bath, water running in cool rivulets down her womanly figure. Some nosy socialites bemoaned the fact that it was ‘hidden’ under drab suits, but outside of her own room, Integra had no use for her femininity. She welcomed the brief cool relief of her wet skin meeting the night air. As she dried off, the heat slowly reasserted its hold, causing her summer nightgown to cling to damp curves.

Leaving the bathroom for the maid to clean later, Integra placed one white hand on the doorknob to her room. She paused, hearing sounds from within. Senses on high alert from years of training, she stilled herself to listen more closely.

Were those moans? They sounded elusively familiar.

Slowly, Integra opened the door to her room, eyes scanning its confines. No one was in sight. As she stepped in, the sounds increased. Not sensing any presence, she stepped further into the room, to the foot of her bed.

The television was on.

And that tape was playing.

Cold fury encompassed her. Who would dare violate her private sanctum? The tape was well hidden, and only someone familiar with her bedroom would even know where to begin looking. The tape was nearing its completion, so someone had certainly gotten an eyeful.

Hands shaking with anger, Integra reached out to stop the tape.

“Don’t, it’s getting to the best part.”

Integra whirled to a dark corner of her room. With inborn reactions, she dove towards her dresser to grab the pistol secreted within.

The whistle of moving filament whispered through the air, and Integra found slender wires wrapped around her neck and one wrist, effectively halting her movement. A subtle twist of her bound limb tested the strength of the wire; she was grateful it pinched terribly but did not cut. She stilled, knowing she needed to bide her time before fighting this enemy. Calmly, she spoke carefully around the wires binding her throat.

“Come out, Walter.”

The sounds of her adolescent climax rang eerily in the air as the dark figure approached. Her eyes took in the well-polished shoes, inky black trousers and vest, and the black shirt with the barest white pinstripe. They lingered over the trim figure, even more attractive now that the fullness of youth had returned. She inwardly appreciated the most dramatic change, that of his face. The butler was attractive as an old man; he was positively devastating with face and hair untouched by time. Even the sinister darkness that surrounded him was alluring.

‘Not surprising, considering I spend my time surrounded by darkness,’ she thought wryly. She brought her mental focus outwards when he drew within a meter of her.

“What do you want,” she demanded.

His eyes flicked to the screen, one hand encased in a black fingerless glove upraised to keep the wires firm.

“The action is great, but it’s the ending that really kills you,” he said, tone neutral.

Integra moved her eyes as best she could to see the screen. She caught him pulling away from her, and her efficient dismissal. She did not regret the moment, but recognized the cruelty in the game. The dark look in her assailant’s eyes showed he harbored a bit of resentment.

The tape abruptly shifted to black. The former butler shifted his dark eyes towards hers, and an image of what this evening was likely to entail evoked an illicit, and somewhat unwanted, trill of arousal in her.

“You have some nerve coming here,” she stated coldly. “Alucard-”

“Is on his monthly romp around the countryside, and is probably in Scotland by now. Really, Sir Integra,” the honorific spoken with mocking derision, “you should change your pet’s habits if you wish to remain untouched.”

Anger spiked through her at his insolence.

“You dare,” she hissed lowly, pulling slightly on the wires that held her.

He laughed, a dark sound laced with madness. A flick of his upraised hand brought her stumbling into him with the pull of the wires. Integra’s free hand pressed to his chest to hold him away, but his inhuman strength crushed her to him nonetheless. She still tried to pull away, trying to distance herself from the sensation of her indecently clothed body against the firm planes of his. A sharp cut at her neck froze her in place, a hot trickle of blood oozing down her skin.

Walter’s eyes fired with something deeper, darker. He grinned, mouth full of sharp teeth, and licked up her neck to taste the crimson trail. Integra could not hold back the shiver at his actions.

“Now now, my lady, I didn’t want to mar your delicate skin.”

Integra fought to control her breathing, to remain calm. It was getting more and more difficult to concentrate with his intense gaze and the friction of his body against her heated skin.

“What do you want,” she repeated, cursing the breathlessness in her voice.

He smiled again, lust encompassing his dark visage.

“Now that I am freed from the bonds of age and duty, I want what I was denied. You had your pleasure from me, Integra. Now it is my turn.”

Integra’s body stiffened in his hold, feeling him press his clothed erection against her stomach. Her mind rebelled against his claim, but her body was giving in. The weather, the memories, the tape, and the dark man who held her all worked to wear down her defenses.

Walter did not wait for her acquiescence. With one hand still raised holding the wires, the other pressed to her back, he moved her to the bed in a lewd mockery of a courtly dance. Integra did her best to be a mirror to his movements, the wires pressing into her delicate flesh with every wrong move. She managed to follow with only a few more nicks and cuts, insides shivering with a mixture of revulsion and arousal when he stopped to lap up the crimson beads each time.

He laid her on the bed, straddling her hips. She sighed involuntarily when the filaments around her neck disappeared. Her free hand was bound to the other with a casual flick of his wrist and secured above her to the headboard with another deft move.

The dark-clad man sat back, openly admiring her form. Integra’s eyes narrowed at the scrutiny. It was bad enough that she wanted him, but to be stared at like some kind of object was untenable. She bucked against him, getting more frustrated when she couldn’t budge his solid weight above her. Lightning fast, his hand planted firmly on her chest, pinning her solidly to the bed. He leaned over her, face hovering inches from hers.

“Lay still, my lady. I don’t think you want me to be truly forceful.” He grinned widely and ran a long tongue over sharp teeth.

Integra met the desire in his eyes with a challenge of her own, but stilled nonetheless. She was, after all, a practical British woman. It wouldn’t do to come out of this bloodied, dead, or worse.

His smile changed from malevolent to lustful. She dammed the spike of arousal that answered his desire.

The hand holding her to the bed lifted slightly, teasing the edge of her nightgown. It was remarkably similar to the one she had worn as a teenager; her tastes in simple comforts had not changed. The pads of his fingers felt cool and delightfully calloused against her heated skin as he passed over and under the neckline.

He grinned again, hand hovering over her cotton-clad chest. Integra gasped as one button disappeared with a flick of fingers, the filaments he wielded cutting away the flimsy fabric and scraping the skin beneath. It was no harder than a sharp scrape of fingernails, and fast as a bird’s wings. The grin widened as he continued down to her waist. Each pass of the filaments removed more fabric and raised a flush to her skin. Once the buttons were gone, he continued to cut away pieces of her clothing until her heaving chest was all but exposed to his gaze.

Integra arched and bit back a groan when one of the strands cut away the fabric above one nipple, curling around the side of the erect bud before scraping erotically over the top. Walter paused briefly, and repeated the treatment to the other sensitive peak. Her reaction was the same, this time more pronounced. His cool fingers ghosted up the sides of her breasts, rough leather of the fingerless gloves teasing the abused nipples as he passed. He continued his slow torture, pulling more low groans from her throat as he alternated between cool touches, sharp filaments and rough leather.

When his long tongue drew a line from her neck to her collarbone, down to circle a rosy nipple, she could not help but arch into the cool wetness, panting at the sparks that shot straight to her groin. The wet trail continued to her other nipple, his hands roughly gripping her skin.

His body slid further down hers, one hand ripping the rest of her garment open. Integra jerked lightly with his motion. He brought the same hand in between her legs, dipping two fingers into her wet opening. Integra groaned as he thrust a little lightly, the contrast of cool fingers in her burning heat causing her toes to curl. He raised his head to meet her unfocused gaze, licking his glistening fingers.

“Your flavor is much less innocent, but you taste just as sweet.”

Those cool fingers returned to her heat again, plunging in further this time. He watched her intently with hungry black eyes as his action caused her to writhe and moan, despite her desire to withhold that satisfaction. He played her just as well as he had seven years ago, her body responding wantonly to every touch and stroke.

Just as she was about to peak from his manipulations, he withdrew. She almost shouted in frustration, allowing a growl to escape from clenched teeth. Walter smiled wickedly and crawled up her form again, cruelty evident in his gaze.

“Horrid, isn’t it, my lady. Being denied.”

She did not answer, merely panted beneath him. Her eyes shot a look full of venom. His hand suddenly gripped her chin, looking as if he would devour her. Integra fought with her warring emotions, fear pushing her fevered body higher despite the absence of his touch. His other hand smoothly undid his trousers, freeing his erection from the confining clothing.

Holding her head still, his lips ghosted to her neck, teeth scraping over the pulse there. Integra gasped, closing her eyes and praying he would not violate her in that way. The fear spiked higher when the sharp points dented her flesh, and her breathing accelerated. Without warning, he thrust his erection into her folds, lips replacing teeth and sucking sharply on the pale flesh. She did cry out this time, both in desire and relief.

Walter started a hard rhythm immediately, pressing deeply into her with each thrust. His barely warm erection heated quickly to match her fevered temperature, slickly sliding in and out. He pulled her legs over his shoulders, leaning forward to press inside as deeply as possible.

As his pace increased and his gaze clouded over with a haze of lust, Integra noticed shadows encroaching on the bed. She could barely focus on their movement in her achingly aroused state. However, she could not mistake their cool caress as the wound around her abused wrists and caressed her neglected breasts. Their teasing, pulling motions first felt like soft breaths on her skin, then scraped roughly like the filaments. She tensed her muscles in anticipation as the cool whisper moved between her legs to encircle her clitoris.

The combined sensation of the shadows on her body and Walter thrusting within her drove her from the knife’s edge of arousal into a blinding climax. Walter grunted above her, jerking once, twice, and then his cool release coated her insides.

He lay still above her as she returned to her senses. She barely felt the shadows return to hover just beyond their rightful places. He lingered for a moment before pulling out and leaving the bed, efficiently putting his clothing back into impeccable shape. He regarded her with cold eyes, a strain of displeasure in his gaze.

“Too bad, I planned to leave you bound and wanting.” He snorted indelicately. “The rumors of the Hellsing Ice Queen must be greatly exaggerated. You certainly came like a whore.”

The balcony doors opened, and he stepped out into the oppressive night. He walked gracefully off the edge of the balcony, and was gone.

Integra let her head fall back against the pillows, damp from perspiration. Her body was still cooling, sensitive to the light breeze from the doorway. She sighed, sated muscles now aching with the pains at her raw wrists and neck. The room was too dim to see how her hands were secured, but her pride made her loath to call for help. Her efforts to feel for a way to release herself led to further pain.

Just as she was going to swallow her pride and call out, the shadows that had been waiting at the edges of the room moved again, closing the balcony doors and releasing her wrists from their bondage. Integra sat up warily, gathering the sheet to cover her nudity before critically examining the room.

The shadows converged in the darkest corner of her room, and a heavily booted foot emerged, followed by a blood-red coat. Finally, glinting shades and wild black hair surfaced from the darkness. Integra couldn’t help but be both relieved and wary of her rescuer.

“Alucard.”

His heavy footsteps approached the bed. One gloved hand reached out and took her hand, turning it over to inspect her reddened wrist. He let it go and did the same to the other, feral eyes glinting over his shades to meet hers.

“Pity. The Angel of Death gets a taste, but I do not.”

Something clicked into place in her head, and her eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“Those were your shadows on my body.”

His face split into an impossibly wide grin, all white teeth and wide eyes.

“I would not deny my lady any satisfaction.”

Integra could not control the blush that accompanied her fury.
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Consequence of Desire