Summary: John strolls through the lab looking at Helen's creature gallery.
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sanctuary or John and Helen.
SANCTUARY:
THE LAB
John had been told by Helen that she didn't need him hovering constantly, which he knew he had been doing for the past two days. He couldn't stand to be useless, not while being near Helen. His hands ached to touch her and his lips wanted to taste hers again; just one taste. But she had shoved him out of her office and shut the door in his face, and after he had gotten so close to taking her lips, but Helen had shaken her head and come back into her senses. Damn that woman sometimes and her strong will power.
He took his time looking at each of her guest's, as Helen preferred to refer to them. They were all evolutions mistakes, especially the little fur balls he was looking at right now. They were short, round, and had tall ears. He looked at the plaque beside the window that read, "Nubbins." Who would name a creature something like that? But he already knew. John had a feeling it was Ashley who named those weird looking creatures.
Placing one hand on the cement wall John transferred his weight to his right foot and crossed his left foot over so that the tip toe of his shoe was right along side the outside of his right foot. Resting his left hand on his hip John just stood there and watched the furry rabbit like creatures. He could see some of them moving around, albeit a little sluggishly. The cold was slowing them down, but something was cutting through to cold and cutting through him. It wasn't the cold that washed through him; no it was fire, passion, lust. How long had it been since he felt the touch of a lovers flesh? Sure he had had other women as he was sure Helen had had other men, but there would be none like Helen. She was the only woman who fit to him; hip to hip, chest to chest, heart to heart. Only his hatred had buried that love deep down in an inner well that John had almost forgot that he was capable of tender emotion. Just looking at those little things made him yearn to go back to Helen's office and take her right there on her desk.
Helen had stood in the shadows of her darkened lab. Night had descended over the city and her beloved Sanctuary, but that didn't stop her or her work. No, John stopped her. He always stopped her dead in her tracks with a look. It was a guilty pleasure of Helen's just hearing him speak. His voice could be cool and controlled and hard and steel, and then it could be warm and sensual as living liquid fire. Even if she was giving the air of not heading his words she would still listen intently to everything. Too seldom had their paths crossed, but it was too dangerous to keep him close however much she desired to hear him speak, to hear him chuckle that dark wicked sound that she loved secretly. John was dangerous; she had to remember that, didn't she? Heat flooded through her until all she could see was John watching the Nubbins. He looked posed in a nonchalant manner, but she could plainly see the tension riding him as well. He just looked too good for words and words were her weapons. With them she could cut a foe to ribbons almost as expertly as she could with a gun. But what she wanted was a little more primal than that; she wanted John's flesh against hers. She wanted to taste his lips, to feel his fingers run along her skin, and she wanted to feel him take her; make mad passionate love to her. Helen wasn't a fool; she knew love still burned between them but that love was colored by hate and mistrust, anger and violence. Why did she have to love a man who had turned so cruel? It was because he was John, because he fit her body so well, and because her heart would be incomplete without him.
John's senses peeked; someone was watching him and he knew that someone was Helen. He couldn't explain how he knew, but he just knew. She was hidden in the shadows of her darkened Lab. What would she do if he turned and looked right at her? Would she run? Would she come to him? The only way to know was to find out. Turning he took that first step towards her. He made sure that she could see the desire in his eyes, the want, the need to have her. If she was to back out she would have to do so now or risk being claimed by him again.
Helen had one chance to get away, to turn and leave him, but she stood rooted to the spot and she allowed him to come closer. She wanted him to come closer to taunt and tease. And he would taunt her. He did that just by being near her and not saying a word. Heat swirled around them, ran through them, and pulled them together. It wasn't that passion was a problem, they had plenty of that; it was the trust factor. Helen took a shuddering deep breath as John reached out his hand and lightly cupped her face. Instinctively she turned her head into his palm and closed her eyes against the sensation of skin to skin. She knew his lips would descend upon hers and Helen waited with baited breath for that to happen.
She tried not to be afraid, tried to keep a tight reign on her control, but when his lips brushed hers it was not fear that she felt. Helen felt heat course through her as just the barest of touches. Throwing caution to the wind for once, she cupped his face and brought his lips back to hers so his taste could invade her senses and take hold of her mind. John tasted just as she remembered and it was a dangerous thing to her sense of self to have him again. Would she be able to let go and hate him again? That question should have jarred her out of this but his lips danced over hers and drew her further and further into him.
John knew better, or at least he thought he did. All he was thinking about right now was Helen, her taste, her body, and good she would feel. Something was making him lose himself, allowing him to think of carnal needs and not the demands of the abnormal world on the brink of war. Right now all he wanted was Helen; he wanted Helen pliant, yielding, and insatiable in his arms. He took a step, and then another until he could back her up into the shadows from whence she came while she had been watching him. Her lips were fire upon his. John fisted his hands in her blouse and tugged it from the waist band of her skirt as he pushed his thigh between her rapidly weakening knees. He tried to listen to the sounds around them to make sure that no one was around, well no one but Helen's guests. But his senses were muddled, only Helen invaded him, his mind, his heart, and in every pore of his skin.
Her heart was pounding, her body was humming. John was all around her and if Helen went any further then he would be inside her as well. Did she rally want that? Could she handle it? Well if she kept on, then she was going to find out real quick. There was a barrier being lowered within her, some force was taking all of her control with John. He had taken everything from her, but now he was giving it back, giving her what she needed. She had been too long with out a man and her body was quick to remind her of that. Also a fine line of danger existed for them here in her lab as they were hiding in the shadows. The shadows would only hide them for so long and if she let things progress they would need a more secure, a more hidden place to continue. Helen tried to move her lips away so she could speak, but her mouth was fused to his and her body was not about to let her move away. He tasted so good, so right, and so familiar. This was apart of her past, a past she wanted to have again, secretly desired would return. Helen wanted John, wanted his taste, and wanted his body against hers.
"Make up your mind Helen," John growled into her ear just before he nipped the side of her neck. He had no doubt where they were headed but he had to make sure that it was what she wanted. All the evidence pointed to her wanting the same thing he wanted. Much more of this and he was liable to take the choice from her and he was sure she wouldn't fight him, well, no more than he wanted her to fight.
As soon as his lips touched hers, Helen's resolve faltered. She knew that skin to skin intimate touching would be her undoing. Just as she wanted to hate him, to push him away, at the same time she wanted no one else's touch but his. He was the only man who knew how to touch her and illicit the maximum response. Giving him her answer she nipped the scarred flesh of his cheek and then kissed his flesh in turn. John's hands ran down her waist and cupped the back of her thighs so when he picked her up her body was tight against his and they still cloaked in the shadows of the lab. Her breathing labored, Helen spoke, "Take me to bed." There it was again; the strange inhibition, the heat flooding her. Even though Helen knew the source, she was still going to continue, she was still making her choice.
Out of the pocket of his leather duster John produced one of his knives. Flicking it open he caught the bottom button of her shirt and slowly slid the blade up slicing the thread so each button fell away and exposed her creamy pale skin. Helen flinched when the cold metal slithered over her flesh. He delighted in her quick shiver, devoured it. John leaned in and took her lips again and took them to the North Tower where the setting sun was like fire in the sky. "A slight exhibitionist streak…." Helen gasped into his ear and John could only chuckle that dark wicked sound that he knew affected Helen.
In all the rooms in her sanctuary, in all the beds, John had to choose the one place that afforded her the most solitude and serenity. The North Tower was the one sanctuary within her sanctuary that Helen could think and now it would be one more place that she would have memories of John and his body against hers. She fisted her hands in his shirt and yanked, buttons flying every which way as she pushed down enough of his shirt and jacket to expose skin as pale as hers. Now was not the time to think, it was the time to feel and all Helen could feel was a strong desire for John, for what he could do to her body. This was not love or even a need for comfort, it was desire and lust. There was no warmth; there couldn't be, not between them. Helen shut down the rational part of her mind and just went with her base instinct; the part of her that refused to feel anything but John and his passion.
John lived to push the boundaries and push Helen; it was all he knew, all he was comfortable in doing. Backing up a few steps John once again lifted her into his arms effortlessly and not so gently slammed her back into the stone wall. This was not an act of gentleness; the lust riding his mind would not allow it to be so. All they knew was violence towards the other and so it would continue. Helen dug her nails sharply into the flesh of his exposed shoulders drawing a growl from deep in his chest. He kissed her lips hard, blazed a trail down her neck and nipped at her pulse. It sped up and her body arched against him. Using his chest to hold her up against the wall John splayed his hands against the stone; his right hand still holding the knife. There was no way he would get enough of her; John needed her and didn't know how to hold onto her.
Helen had expected the violence, even wanted some of it. She wanted it. When his teeth bite her neck it only served to pull her deeper into the web of pleasure. It wasn't just John it was the chaos he could bring to her world, her heart, and her soul. Together they were a force of nature and now they would be even more so. She angled her head and nipped his ear. John shuddered and pushed his hardness against her center. As if anticipating his next move Helen moved her skirt up and felt the still cold steel of the knife slip up and under the waist band of her underwear. A quick clean slice was all he would need and she was getting hotter just thinking about all the ways he would make her burn. Helen used John's strong shoulders as a brace and arched up allowing the knife to slice the thin scrap of cloth.
John was nearly out of his mind, the anger had long since been washed away with passion, a burning need to possess her, to make her his once again. He should have thought this through, but his need was too strong. Dropping the knife, John used his free hand and lowered the zipper on his trousers. He was so hard, so firm, and so hot for Helen. Positioning himself he drove into in one hard, fast thrust that stole his breath. She was so wet, so snug, and so familiar that John nearly crumpled to his knees. She gripped him like a fist, a warm sheath. Tearing his lips from hers John leaned his head against the cold stone to try and quell the rising flames that were jumping from his body to hers and back again. But it was Helen who started to move.
Helen had forgotten, or tried to forget, the pure exquisite pleasure that John could give her, whether it was in tenderness or pure animal ferocity. Yet, this was something new, the edge of violence that she was finding intoxicating. No longer was she being influenced by the pheromones the Nubbins were using to cloud their mind, it was all John and the power he could still wielded over her body. Helen knew how to turn the tables. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sharply arched her back. The ecstasy that coursed through her was enough to make her see stars. His hands came away from the stones behind her and fisted in the material of her skirt while his teeth set into her shoulder. The pleasure/pain dynamic was more than she knew what to do with.
John leaned into her fully and took control of this mating. Sharply he withdrew from her and drove back into her fast and hard. Helen screamed in satisfaction and dug her nails back into his shoulders. John took it as encouragement. He kissed the bite mark he had inadvertently left on her perfect pale flesh. John hadn't wanted to hurt her, but the moment got away from him and it was what they did to each other in the end, they hurt. His breathing ragged, his control minimal, John finished what he started. He played her body to the tune of passion, lust, and completion. John was losing his senses and his strength to stay standing, Helen was taking all he had.
This was something she thought she would never feel again, whole. John completed her in the primal sense; everything about him screamed he was hers, no matter the evil locked inside him. Every hard, powerful thrust John delivered to her, Helen countered with a rotation of her hips and the clenching of her inner muscles. He was doing his utmost to make her lose her mind; she should at least return the favor. Soon her climax would be upon her and she feared that she would once again be lost to John. Helen buried her face in the crook of his neck and just like he had she sank her teeth home in his flesh, marking him, claiming him as hers, even if the knowledge would only be theirs. As her teeth imbedded in his flesh John drove into he roughly, but it was not pain she felt, it was immense pleasure. His body could fill her and leave no spot untouched. There was a hint of blood on her tongue and Helen had unintentionally drawn blood, but John seemed unfazed. Then she felt it, the low boiling pressure low in her belly that just kept building and building and building. Another thrust, hard and possessing rocked Helen's world and she felt the fire explode within her mind. A scream tore from between her lips and was squelched by John's lips on hers.
John felt like a cord wound to tightly, any minute he was about to snap and come with Helen. She was his gauge, his release. Her legs locked around him tightly and she clenched down tight on him with her inner muscles. She was closer to spilling over and as soon as her release his so he too would follow her over into pleasure. John moved faster, drove into her in hard controlled thrusts. Once more, twice more, and there on the third thrust she was over the edge and taking him with her. It was like molten lava pouring through every nerve in his body. All he could see was a white light behind his eyes. So soon after the heat came a rushing cold that brought him back into himself and allowed him enough presence of mind to look at Helen. Her face was flushed, sweat beaded her forehead, and her chest heaved with the effort to take in a sustainable breath. He imagined that he was in the same state. It was then that he spied a drop of crimson against her shoulder. He hadn't thought that he bit that hard, but it had been hard enough to draw blood. Shame washed away the rest of his euphoria and reminded him that he was a monster. "I… drew… blood," John grasped out and had no choice but to stay where he was, he was too weak and spent to move away.
Helen could barely get her mind to engage, to understand what John had said. She felt fine, she felt better than fine; she felt amazing and relaxed. Sure she would be bruised tomorrow but it would only serve to remind her of the overwhelming pleasure she had shared. Lazily she reached her hand up and her finger tips felt the wetness at her shoulder, so he had drawn blood, but then again so had she. "Then… we're… even," Helen spoke between breaths. She brought her fingers away and painted her lips with the blood he had shed. Without a second thought Helen fused her mouth with his and gave him a reminder of what he had first come to her sanctuary for; her blood.
John tore his lips from hers and growled, "No," he didn't want her blood, not like this, not after what had happened, the pleasure they had shared. He wasn't strong enough to stay on his feet, John sank down to the hard stone beneath them with Helen still cradled in his arms and still holding him within her. Helen only held him and dropped kisses to his temple.
"You're bad for me John," Helen muttered and felt the aftershocks wrack her muscles. The euphoria was immense and would last for a few hours.
"It doesn't change the fact that we keep ending up together." John chuckled. He had enough strength to teleport them one more place.
Opening her eyes Helen gazed upon her own bedroom. She vaguely thought how John knew which one was her, but she was getting tired, too tired to question. John moved from her arms, from between her legs and lifted her so she rested on the bed. He dropped a kiss to her forehead and with a red flash he was gone leaving her to slip into sleep.