Authors Note: It's been a while since I've written anything Sanctuary related but here we are with some Teslen smut, all because I'm rewatching the show and I have an obsessive personality at the best of times. Some warnings for Blood play and vampirism and all that Jazz. Turn back now if you don't want your eyes viewing the deep, dark caverns of Helen and Nikola's relationship! All rights go to the people who made them, wrote them, own them ect. Don't sue me, ta. X
Meticulous, even in Chaos
By
ExplosiveRanga95
Nikola Tesla was meticulous in everything he did, from his work, his research notes and blue print schematics, the way he cleaned his hands, to the way he touched Helen behind closed doors.
It had been a surprise for her, she wouldn't lie. Though the man had an affinity for vanity, she had always thought (and indeed, she had thought about being intimate with him) that in bed, he would be messy and rough.
She was delighted when he had stripped his cravat and waistcoat for her the first time, folding them neatly on the bedside table and repeating the actions with the rest of their clothes. Helen assumed it was all part of the teasing- she couldn't wait to rip her clothes off and devour the man, but he was scrupulous.
It only added to the tension building between her thighs.
It hadn't always been this way between them. John had claimed her heart for so many years, through torment and anguish; even when he wasn't around, she could think of no other. She was a sexual woman but never had she found anyone to fill the gap that John had left.
Nikola had always been flirtatious, she'd give him that. She had simply put it down to his nature, a cheeky foreigner, always looking to rile someone up, get a reaction out of them. And yet, there was the matter of his 'abstinence'.
As the public saw it, the quirky scientist had no desire for sex, which bewildered many for years, even after his 'death'.
Helen regarded herself as an intelligent woman, but she had completely missed the signs of his affection until they were made abundantly clear in the catacombs of Rome. Given, he had been trying to convince her to be his queen for a new age of vampires and when she had declined, he did try to kill her but, what's a little betrayal between friends?
She understood now that he only had an attraction to her. He had explained once that while he could admire the human form for what it was, nothing turned him on as much as a woman who could, in his terms, 'speak nerdy to him'. And as he had so eloquently put it the Praxian strong hold, he couldn't resist a smart, beautiful, witty woman. She was rather pleased that she was who he chose over that damned vampire queen.
She was flattered to say the least.
Still, it only made sense that the man who planned every exact detail of his experiments before even touching pen to paper would be so exact in even his sexual endeavours.
Imagine her surprise when, as soon as they arrived back from Nikola's 'Death Day party', as he was so poetically hailing it as he rejoiced in his renewed Vampirism, that as soon as the doors had closed behind them to her bedroom, Nikola was on her like a starving man, fingers – claws – tearing at her clothes. Her quaking protests were ignored as the shreds of her garments fell to the floor and his lips and teeth marked her milky skin messily.
She couldn't find it in her to argue, not when each touch left her burning and aching for more. When he had settled between her thighs, his kiss was frenzied, tongue circling her clit, fingers bruising her arse as he pulled her into his ministrations.
Her fingers curled around the duvet, her head thrown back, teeth catching her lip to stop her cries of passion; even filled with arousal and desire for this man, she found herself holding back, ever worried about unwanted company stumbling upon something that was none of their business.
None of her team had mentioned anything about her relationship, for lack of a better word, with Nikola. That either meant they didn't care or they didn't know and when keeping in mind that her staff were almost professional gossipers, she guessed it to be the latter.
When Nikola pressed two fingers inside of her and bit down on her thigh, not quite hard enough to break the skin (though she knew he wanted to), it became even harder to resist the urge to demand her release from him.
"Bloody hell," she hissed, her fingers tangling through his mess of hair, making sure to give it a good tug. The vampire seemed to appreciate it because a snarl left him as his tongue darted out to lap at her arousal.
"Don't tempt me," Nikola growled, voice thick with blood lust. This was all new to them both; none of her previous experiences with him had involved the vampiric part of him and for him, the only woman he had ever been sexually active with was Magnus. This whole fang and claw thing seemed to have reinvigorated him in more ways than one and Helen was surprised to find that she didn't mind at all.
The pain of his bites had her clenching around his fingers, but she knew he was holding back. He could bite her harder and she knew he wanted nothing more than to taste her blood.
"Don't hold backgo easy on me now, Nikola." She lay back on the bed, very aware of his digits still curled inside of her and his eyes flickered with something akin to worry.
"How do I know I'll be able to stop?" Her fingers tightened in his hair at the thought, but she had to admit that she trusted him, in this moment, with her life. Her whole body was aching for his touch, this ferocity that she hadn't experienced in far too long, if ever, causing the ball of arousal that coiled in her stomach to tighten.
"I trust you."
It was all she had to say, and Nikola let out a moan, full of sickly sweet desire as he pressed his back to the head board and she straddled his lean waist. His erection was persistent and maddeningly close to her heat and with a shift and a strategic hand, he was inside her.
She forced him still for a second, two, and it was killing him. His fingers dug into her sides and the blades of his talons threatened her skin as Nikola gave a sharp thrust, filling her.
Still, he was holding back, eyes dark, chest heaving as he fought to control himself but when he was so deep in her, the sensations were overwhelming, and Helen made sure to clench her heat around him as she bit his throat. A bruise formed, if only for a split second but the colour splattered across his marble skin had her biting the spot again, harder.
It earned her another moan and he gripped a fist full of hair, nails dangerously close to her scalp, lips swollen from her kisses as they dragged along her pulse point, tasting the thrum of life beneath his mouth.
"I won't be able to stop," he snarled, voice contorted. It sounded like he was in pain because god, how could he stop when he was so close to her that he could practically taste her arousal in the air. His free hand smoothed over her stomach and grazed her breast, the slide of sharp nail against supple skin leaving her shaking and writhing atop him.
"Fuck me, Nikola."
She had never said it like that; it had always been polite, warm and funny, playful.
Cheeky.
Never down right filthy.
She was asking him to break the very promise he had made to her all those years ago.
She was asking him to own her, take her body and her blood and take her until the cows came home.
At this rate, Nikola hoped the cows were stuck on some desert island somewhere out at sea.
Nikola was nothing if not a man who (rarely) followed Helen's orders and he could barely contain himself as he slammed his hips up into hers, as if trying to start a fire with two flint stones.
The fires were certainly burning now.
He dragged it on though, as he made himself at home with her body; teasing kisses and promising nips, never hard enough to break the skin. Teeth scraping her taught, pink nipples. Lips following the veins in her wrist and forearm, biting her gently right in the crook of her elbow. She shivered under his ministrations, like a current of a thousand volts were conducting a light symphony in her nerve endings.
He waited until the right moment, when he could feel Helen's muscles spasm around him, as her heart rate jolted and sparked like Morse Code, sending for release. He waited for the moment when he could no longer bear to hold back, shall he never forget the way her lips parted as he impaled her onto him, over and over again, fingers pulling and tugging and teasing and stroking in all the right ways.
He waited until Helen tipped her head back, baring her throat and he lunged, latching on like a dying man for water, precarious open mouth kisses with hungry fangs dragging against the milky way of freckles.
The pain shattered her senses and for a split second, it was all she could concentrate on but his fingers traced patterns across her back, lulling her into a false sense of comfort and ease and suddenly the pain wasn't really pain anymore and the tingling electricity intensified and all very quickly, the orchestra was at a crescendo, pushing her past the point of no return.
Stars danced across her vision and she found herself laughing breathlessly. The symphony played on and on, note after note bringing that tingling sensation shooting through her veins.
She was all to aware as he dislodged his mouth from her neck, the euphoria keeping her giddy and hungry as he caught her mouth in a bloodied kiss as he came. It was coppery and wet and warm and something inside her surged for more.
Just as quick as it came though, it was gone again, and Nikola was panting, eyes like onyx, watching her every move and every breath.
He seemed not to worry about the state of her bed sheets, fresh with plasma, or of his stained chin, sticky from her cum and from her blood.
She almost wanted to berate him, because really Nikola, what a mess they had made but his lips found her throat again, soothing, and sweet, his tongue flicking out against the puncture holes.
Helen felt her wounds repairing themselves, both of their special DNA's working together to heal the woman while still leaving all that delicious energy that had her dizzy with ecstasy.
"If we stay here tonight," Nikola said after a few moments, his cock still within her, as if moving would have broken the spell, the connection, "I'm not sure I'll be able to stop myself again." He nodded to the all but ruined sheets and when his lover, to busy kissing him again, failed to respond, he moved them, at lightning speed, to his room, a few doors down.
She berated him offhandedly that he left the mess there for morning but by the time she was awake a few hours later, Nikola curled by her side in his bed, her mattress had been replaced, sheets changed (and even she had been bathed, though she recalled nothing).
Meticulous, even in chaos.
Perhaps she should reincarnate his vampirism every time she wanted a rough fuck!