Cassandra bolted upright in bed and screamed.
"JENKINS!"
She continued to scream, then began to sob, the tears quickly building and rolling down her cheeks as she buried her face in her hands.
Jenkins, jolted awake by the sound of his name, sat up in bed next to her and quickly put his arms around the trembling woman.
"Cassandra!" he barked loudly. "Cassandra! Wake up, Cassandra!"
He pulled the crying Librarian to himself and held her, his stomach twisting in anguish as he murmured to her soothingly, trying to bring her back to wakefulness.
"Shhhhh, my love! Shhhhhh! We're safe! We're both safe now…"
Eventually the tears and screaming subsided, and Cassandra, now fully awake, turned her tear-stained face to look up at him, her eyes wide with fear and shame.
"I'm sorry, Jenkins!" she whimpered wretchedly. "It was the nightmare again..." Her face began to twist into a grimace of misery and grief, and she quickly buried it in the large man's chest. He felt her warm tears soak through the thin cotton of his pajama top and wet his skin. He held her tightly, stroking her messy red hair as she trembled in his arms.
"It's all right, my dear," he assured her, his voice low and quieting. "It's not your fault. You can't help it."
It was the nightmare again, of course. She'd been having it off and on for weeks now, ever since they had all recovered their memories of the alternate timeline brought about by Nicole Noone in her quest to destroy the Library. Sometimes Cassandra dreamed of the cruel bullying she'd experienced as a teenager and was forced to relive by the Library. Sometimes it was the nightmare wherein she relived having to fight to the death Jacob and Ezekiel in the Trial of the One. It made Jenkins especially sick to think that the Library had used his face and his voice to cause his beloved Cassandra so much suffering. But it was usually just the one dream that predominated: The nightmare wherein she relived Jenkins's stabbing and death, again and again and again. It always caused her to wake up screaming his name, sobbing uncontrollably.
For Jenkins it was like having that cursed dagger cutting into his heart again every time he heard her call his name like that, and he was helpless to protect her from the agony and the awfulness of what she had to relive in her own mind over and over again. He had his own nightmares about that timeline—being trapped in his own body as the Library used it to brutally terrorize the ones he loved so much, the dagger plunging into his mortal heart, his overwhelming sadness at the certainty of being taken away from his beloved Cassandra far too soon. He also had 1,500 years' worth of nightmares on top of that that haunted his nights as well. But he was able to keep most of that sadness and horror to himself. His young wife knew of his nightmares, of course—he had often awoken her with his own cries in the middle of the night—but being the knight that he ultimately was, he sought to protect her from them as much as possible.
Jenkins tightened his hold on her, began rubbing her back comfortingly. She responded by trying to burrow even further into his arms, slipping hers around his waist and clinging to him as her sobs gradually faded into quiet hiccoughs. After several minutes Cassandra suddenly turned her head upward, and she began giving him soft, tiny kisses on his throat. He tilted his head so their lips could meet, and she hungrily kissed him, her shaking hands clawing desperately at his pajama top as she tried to pull it up and over his head.
He knew it was coming. There had been times in the past when she had sought comfort in sex with him after having these nightmares. He wasn't sure if it was the healthiest practice for dealing with distress of this type, but if it brought her solace and reassurance, he wasn't going to deny her; how many times had he asked the same thing of her, after all? He let go of her just long enough for the young woman to remove his shirt and toss it away; she immediately threw herself at him and kissed him again, hard, one hand raking into the hair at the back of his head while the other stroked his naked bicep, back and chest.
Jenkins slipped his hands underneath the tiny pink tank top she had worn to bed, first rubbing her back, then her sides, finally inching toward her breasts. She leaned back for a moment and yanked off the top. The immortal's hands immediately slid over her breasts and caressed them, her nipples instantly hardening into firm points beneath his palms. Cassandra slid her hands down his arms until they rested on top his hands, and she pressed them into her flesh as her eyes closed and she sighed softly. As Jenkins continued to fondle her, one of her hands slipped down along her stomach and into the waistband of her panties. She sucked in a sharp, sudden breath as she touched herself, the sound and sight of her sending a thrill shuddering through her husband's large frame.
He let go of her and threw the blankets off of them. Jenkins quickly slipped off his pajama bottoms, revealing his rapidly swelling manhood. He rolled out of the bed without a word and knelt on the floor next to it, his dark eyes communicating in the dim light what he wanted her to do. Cassandra slid her panties off slowly, her still-damp, desperate eyes never leaving his. As soon as she was free of them she scooted to the edge of the mattress and reached out to take his silver head between her hands. Leaning down, she kissed him, her small tongue passionately probing between his lips, his teeth, briefly exploring his mouth before she let him go.
With open-mouth kisses, the older man traveled slowly down her throat, over her chest and breasts, her sides, her arms, her belly. He explored every part of her he could reach with his lips and tongue, drawing sighs, moans and whimpers of pleasure from his young Librarian as he went, his desire for her building relentlessly. Finally he reached that sweet place between her legs. She spread them apart as he grasped her hips and pulled her forward to the very edge of the bed. Beginning at her knees, he kissed and lightly bit his way up the inner part of each of her pale thighs, grunting and moaning softly, studiously avoiding her wet, tempting sex. He could actually feel the heat of it brush his cheeks as he moved between her thighs, her scent rich and intoxicating as wine. Her fingers wound themselves again into his hair.
"Taste me, Jenkins!" she ordered him, her voice low and husky. His eyes, dark with want, fixed themselves momentarily on her glittering blue ones as he obeyed.
The immortal leaned in to kiss her, unhurriedly and deliberately, his tongue carefully probing and exploring her most intimate places as his large hands slid around her to cup her firm buttocks. She shrieked wordlessly and involuntarily pushed herself against him. Hearing her cry out like that and knowing that he was the cause of it made him hard, his erect manhood burning to enter her. He denied himself the pleasure, however, and instead snaked one hand up to gently grasp her breast. While he toyed with the soft flesh, rolling and pinching her nipple between his long, skilled fingers, he located her hard clit and teased it mercilessly with the tip of his tongue, nipping it gently with his teeth.
"Oh, GOD, Jenkins! Galahad! I need you, Galahad! I need you!" Cassandra clutched his hair so tightly that it hurt, her head lolling backward as she wailed his true name over and over, raggedly panting in between. Suddenly she screamed, in release this time rather than fear, and fell back onto the bed, her hips bucking hard against him as she was swallowed up by her orgasm. Jenkins held onto her and continued to lick and suck her clit, ruthlessly drawing more cries and gasps from his Librarian as she climaxed again.
"Galahad! Stop, please! Stop!" she begged finally, spent and gasping for breath. "I need you inside of me, Galahad," she whimpered softly, holding her hands out for him. "Please!"
Jenkins immediately pulled her from the bed and laid her on the floor. He was on her in an instant, parting her legs and eagerly plunging his throbbing cock into her as he grasped her again by the hips. Cassandra moaned loudly and gripped his forearms so tightly that her nails bit into his flesh as he thrust into her as hard as he could, his long shaft dragging excruciatingly, blissfully over her swollen clit. It took only a dozen or so strokes before he succumbed to his own orgasm, half-shouting, half-laughing as he felt his sex pulse violently within hers.
As he weakly fell back against the side of the bed, he simultaneously pulled Cassandra up into a sitting position in front of him and wrapped his long arms and legs around her, ensuring that he could remain deep inside of her as they both came down from their post-orgasm highs. He pressed her against his heaving chest and buried his face in her long red hair, her soft, naked skin deliciously resting against his own.
"I'm sorry for waking you up, Jenkins," she said, embarrassed, after they had both settled into this new position. "I'm sorry that I keep putting you through all of...this." The ancient knight brushed her forehead with his lips before hugging her tightly.
"Nonsense, my love," he protested blithely. "It was time for Little Jenkins's 2:00 AM 'feeding' anyway."
She giggled softly in spite of herself as she swatted his arm. "You're awful!"
"I am! I'm awful in love with you!" he said playfully, trying to keep the mood light.
Cassandra slipped her arms around his neck and began to softly nuzzle his throat, her head eventually coming to rest on his large, smooth chest. They sat together this way for several minutes, quietly, each one dazedly lost in the feel of the other's body against them, lost in the feel of their bodies still joined to one another, each one awash in the certain knowledge of the other's undying love for them. It was finally Cassandra who broke the silence.
"I love you, Galahad," she whispered, one had playing with his thick white hair. "My good, sweet, kind, patient knight—I'll always love you." The immortal hugged her small body to his protectively, his ancient heart swelling with love for her as he moved to kiss the top of her head.
"And I love you, my treasure," he murmured tenderly in reply. "I'll love only you until the end of Time, Cassandra—even beyond that day. I will always love you, I swear it." The young woman sighed contentedly and snuggled against him; he felt a slight shiver go through her body.
"Are you cold?" he asked, and she nodded silently.
"Shall we get back into bed, my heart?" This time she shook her head against his chest.
"No," she said drowsily. "The way we are right now, still joined together like this—it feels so good. So safe. I like it when you hold me like this."
Jenkins smiled as he reached behind him and pulled the comforter off of the bed. He spread it over the two of them and carefully tucked it in around them as best he could without disturbing her too much. By the time he slid his arms back around his Librarian, she was fast asleep. He softly kissed her head again as he cradled Cassandra to himself.
"Pleasant dreams, my love," he whispered fervently, then leaned back against the bed, making himself comfortable as he prepared to keep watch over his beloved for the rest of the night, to keep the nightmares at bay.