At 8pm sharp, Helen self-consciously smoothes the silk of her dress over the flesh of her abdomen before knocking on Nikola's bedroom door.
She is nervous, and self-conscious, and it irritates her to no end. It is far from the first time she is giving herself to Nikola, and a damn ring on her finger is hardly supposed to make a difference in that department.
It's only a ring, Helen, get a bloody grip.
At 8pm sharp, plus a few seconds, her nervous tension evaporates under Nikola's burning gaze when the door slides open.
And indeed, he doesn't try to make his appreciation any less blatant than it is. His eyes widen with awe as he sees her standing in the hallway in her crimson off-the-shoulder dress, her long legs only made longer by black stiletto shoes. He notices the care that has gone into her smokey eyes and black liner, the thinking behind her choice of earrings – long strings of gold that come down all the way to her collarbone, lightly grazing her skin exactly where he likes to lazily trail his lips and tongue when he takes his sweet time driving her crazy with want.
She's a vision and he feels his insides twist and, God, it kills him that he's not touching her right now and he wonders how it is he did not implode in all these years she's denied him the pleasure.
Easy, you fled, is the answer his brain supplies.
"You look surprised to see me." She says with a devious smile, breaking his trance.
The vampire's mouth is so dry he has to swallow and lick his lower lip before he can answer.
"I was expecting a booty call from my wife, actually." He answers with a smirk.
Her mouth opens in a silent O as she buries her gaze in his.
"Is she the jealous type?" She teases, purposefully rearranging a lock of her long hair so that the garnet on her ring finger catches the light coming from over his shoulder.
Sure, from the outside, she's cool and composed, but inside? Her heart misses a beat as a sinful grin comes to grace Nikola's face, lighting the fire that has been building in her lower abdomen ever since he has left her office hours ago, and there's nothing she can do to stop the blood from rushing down to her core.
"She'd better not be. We're not exclusive." He clarifies.
She can't help a relieved snort at that. So the ring does not change our dynamic, she realizes, and the last remaining ounce of anxiety flows down her spine and down the curve of her thigh until it drops in a puddle at her feet, the same way her dress is going to in a little while when Nikola finally breaks.
Now fully confident, she takes a step into his personal space.
"Then you won't see a problem with letting me in?" She asks, half-shrugging as she throws him a seductive look under her long lashes.
"None." He breathes.
He steps back, but only so that she has no choice but to brush against him as she makes her way into his room. The way her silk-clad breasts graze against the buttons of his vest as she does so gets her nipples to suddenly come alive, giving Nikola the confirmation that she is not, in fact, wearing any bra.
He catches her by the waist as the door slides shut, relishing in the feel of silk under his fingers.
"You've always looked dashing in crimson." He states, studying her with ravenous eyes.
Of course he has noticed her choice of color, and she silently thanks herself for not choosing a white dress. White does not suit them.
And she wants to come up with a witty come back but his lips are caressing her ear and she grips his tie as his breath creates goosebumps that travel down to the curve of her buttocks when he goes on:
"You look even better in your birthday suit, but it would be a shame to undress you right now." He whispers against the shell of her ear before he brushes the tip of his nose against her cheek.
The sigh that comes out of Helen's mouth sounds more like an expression of desire and less like amusement, but she can work with that.
"You don't get to undress the bride before you've exchanged vows, hm?" She points out, her hand trailing down Nikola's covered body innocently, only to be stopped by his, inches away from his manhood.
She lets out a disappointed whine.
"And you don't get to touch the groom before you've put a ring on it." He reminds her, bringing the palm of her offending hand to his lips.
She relaxes in his embrace, and he rewards her by grinding his lower body into hers and she has to bite her lip at the feeling of his already hard length against her thigh.
"I'll put a ring on it alright." She threatens, pushing a finger between his lips.
The inventor gently bites the tip of her finger with a smile, and she gets lost in the memories of what this man can do with his teeth.
"Lewd minx." He mutters as he releases her digit.
Her smile is radiant and love suddenly emerges in between clouds of desire on her face as she places her hands on his muscular shoulders.
"Shut up and kiss me."
Nikola is not one to discuss orders. At least not when it comes to pleasing the lady and so he does.
At first, the kiss is soft, experimental, wondering. He is trying to detect the small changes that might have been induced by the fact that there's now a ring on her finger. A ring he has dreamt of seeing there for more than a century. But of course, it doesn't change anything. There's no vow left to be exchanged. He has more than proven himself. He is her best friend, her resident genius, the father of her child, one of her lovers, his equal, the one she comes to for comfort when she's insecure or in pain, the one who sees all sides of her and loves to the darkest one of them.
The love he feels for Helen electrifies him and the kiss deepens, making her moan against his expert tongue. He has a hand in her hair now, and the second one would be there too if he didn't need it to ground her against him. Her fingers are desperately trying to cling to his neck, lightly scratching, then soothing, and her knees are failing her, he knows by the way she melts into him, so he pushes her against the wall.
It wouldn't be the first time he fucks her against that particular wall, but as tempting as it is, he has other plans.
She growls when his lips leave hers, but she quickly forgives the betrayal as her back arches, welcoming them as they find one of her breasts through the fabric of her dress.
He teases with his tongue, wetting the silk, then bites a nipple, eliciting a primal 'Ah' from the Brit but despite the pleasure that courses through her nerves, she emits a frustrated roar before he can twist the second, forsaken nipple between his thumb and his index fingers.
"Will you let me take off my dress or do you intend to put snags in it?" She grunts as her perfectly manicured fingernails graze his scalp.
It has him stopping amidst his ministrations and she almost regrets her objection, but he's gone already, taking a step back and looking at her slightly disheveled state, with a proud smirk.
"Well, if the lady doth insist, shall we take it to the couch?" He suggests, extending his arm to show her to his sitting area.
That's when she notices it. He has rearranged his living space, and there's a full-size mirror where there wasn't one before, directly facing the sofa. Helen's breath hitches. She highly doubts he has moved this mirror from his dressing room to the bedroom only to stare at himself as he sips wine. Oh yes, there is also wine involved in his plans. She knows because there's an open bottle and a half-filled glass on the end table.
She gulps. In close to three centuries of sexual activity, she has indulged in about most fantasies one could possibly think about, and having sex while watching her own reflection is no exception. Yet that's something she has not considered doing in years… Scratch that – decades. She's not what one could call shy or lacking in confidence but despite looking relatively young for someone her age, her body is certainly keeping records. There's that second of hesitation when she thinks she is not doing it. But then she remembers how Nikola likes to trail the stretch marks on her waist with loving eyes, calling her the goddess of lightning storms, and she's in. There's no one else she would experiment this with but the great Nikola Tesla. She even finds the prospect of looking at herself from his perspective thrilling.
There's a hand on her lower back as she makes her way to the couch, and she stops in her tracks when she's close enough to the end table that she can read the label on the bottle of wine.
She raises an eyebrow at the vampire, unimpressed.
"Honestly, what's the point of giving you a wine cellar of your own if you keep stealing bottles from mine?" She asks, exasperation fighting amusement at the back of her throat.
"Consider this a wedding gift." He answers smartly.
He then proceeds to glue his body to her back, reminding her of their mutual need for flesh.
"Anyway, where were we?" he whispers, gathering her hair to one side of her neck with deft fingers to place a searing kiss to the spot where her tender neck meets her shoulder.
Her brain throws aside any snarky comment she might have had about his bad habits of stealing from her, focusing instead on the tension growing between her legs.
"I believe you were about to get me naked." She points out, her voice betraying her state of arousal.
His hot breath against the skin of her neck as he huffs has her openly moaning.
"Not. Gonna. Happen." He says, punctuating each word with open-mouthed kisses on the column of her neck until he reaches her earlobe which he bites lightly.
She turns in his arms. She's a mess of flustered nerves begging for release and her annoyed gaze is met with a devilish smile on Nikola's face. Annoyed Helen Magnus is definitely one of his kinks.
"Nikola, I swear to God…"
He tuts her before she can go on.
"Do you trust me?" He asks, serious as can be.
She squints.
"Do I really have to answer that?"
He shrugs and she swats the hand that tries to cup her cheek.
"Yeah no you'd probably ruin the fun." He admits. "Just do as I say, do not question a thing, put that gorgeous brain of yours on pause."
She rolls her eyes, but his demanding tone does things to her that she's not likely to ever share aloud.
"and what do you say?" She wonders, putting a hand on her waist.
He lets himself fall in the couch, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Simon says take off your underwear, Helen."
There's fire in the two syllables that form her name and she blinks, letting his burning desire wash over her as she bites her lip.
She shakes her head with a lopsided smile but she turns around before she oh so slowly hitches up her dress offering him a show as she complies, revealing more and more of her creamy thighs until the crease of a butt-cheek is displayed, then the other and it takes all of his self-control not to fall to his knees to lick her there, where ass fades into thigh and he knows she's sensitive, or to plant his human teeth on the inside of her leg.
The wine-colored lace of her underwear does nothing to appease him, neither does the smell of her arousal his heightened sense can detect.
He extends a hand to get his wine glass as he watches her fingers trail over and under the lace, getting her underwear to slide down the length of her long legs, and the sound of him swallowing his beverage has her turning to face him, now naked from the waist down, her underwear pooled on the ground around her black heel shoes.
She takes the glass from him with a sultry smile and takes a sip of the tangy liquid before she places it back again next to the bottle.
The last bit of his resolve snaps and he draws her head to his, and locks of smooth hair hide their faces as he kisses her hungrily, teeth biting lips and tongues searching for the last remains of wine.
She's panting when he draws back, and he turns her round to face the mirror as his hand find the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, getting her to widen her stance.
She finds his face in the mirror and she feels powerful when his eyes fill with awe at how her legs tremble under his feather-like touches getting close to where she desperately wants him.
Nikola takes pity on her when her legs fail to support her weight, and so he wraps an arm around her waist to pull her to him. She lands in his lap unceremoniously and she's lost to the feeling of scratchy fabric against her naked skin as he spreads her legs with his knees.
"God, Helen, do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" He asks, grabbing and squeezing the back of her neck, getting her to throw her head back as she hums in delight.
She does, actually. She's acutely aware of the effect she has on him. She can feel his erection against her ass, and she relishes the sound of his animalistic groan as she rolls her hips against his covered crotch, meeting his fiery gaze in their reflection with a sinful smile.
His eyes roll back, and he breathes hard, trying to focus on anything but his throbbing member.
She's had enough fun, he decides. So he anchors her body to his, snaking an arm around her stomach and he bites her neck as his free hand runs over the inside of her leg, tickling, balancing the pain of his human teeth sucking on her pulse point. Her stomach pushes against his arm, trying to arch away from him – or closer? She has no idea at this point – but his grasp is strong and she forces herself to get her ragged breath under control, relaxing the muscles of her back to melt against Nikola's muscular chest, using his collarbone as a pillow for her head as his tongue soothes the mark he is sure to have left on her neck.
His fingers are moving up to her core now, no longer light, and she hums when he spreads her labia and she gets to see her secretions glistening in the mirror.
The bastard has the cheek to laugh against her neck.
"Looks like someone is drenched." He murmurs.
He flips her clit before she can bite back and she bucks, whimpering.
"On a scale of one to ten, how much do you want me?" he asks, his breath hot in Helen's ear, never breaking eye contact through their reflection.
She's annoyed again, he can tell by the dark shadow dancing in her clouded eyes.
"Nikola…" she warns.
"I'm listening." He says, running a nail through her sensitive folds, slowly.
"Stop teasing." She commands.
She wants to slap the wolfish grin off his face, but that's not her top priority just now so she merely rolls her eyes.
"You forgot the magic word." He states.
His request is met by a groan, so he stops his movements between her legs, getting his hand away from where she needs it most.
"I'll wait." He says with a wink before taking a sip from his wine.
She ragingly kicks a still shoe-clad foot back against the edge of the sofa with a huff, but she knows seeing her frustrated pleases him greatly.
"Please."
She didn't want it to sound so fucking desperate, and it doesn't come with the acid she intended to bathe it in, but the glass clinks as he puts it back on the end table and his hand is back where it rightfully belongs and suddenly it doesn't matter that he has won.
Nikola's index finger circles her entrance, gathering wetness that he spreads over her clit and just like that, his whole hand is on her vulva. She sees two long fingers pressing on each side of her clit and he curls his middle finger, which disappears inside of her.
Seeing and feeling him holding her drives her insane and the sensory overload has her writhing and panting and tilting her pelvis wildly to take him deeper, increasing the pressure of his fingers on her nerves. She's thankful for the strong arm holding her to him, securing her.
"Helen…"
Her name brings her focus back to the mirror and she doesn't remember hooking her arms back around his neck but here she is, breasts pushing up against the silk of her dress.
"You're gorgeous when you lose control."
His voice is deep, almost vampiric now. She can tell he is struggling to keep the beast in check and it's almost enough to tip her over the edge.
He senses how close she is, studies her flushed face, then decides to play nice.
Suddenly, the heel of his hand is pressed against her vulva, and he sets an unforgiving rhythm, thrusting two fingers inside of her then pulling them out entirely, just enough time to let her see how coated they are in her juices before he is thrusting again, and she feels her orgasm building in the pit of her stomach.
His tongue finds the soft spot underneath her ear as his hand crushes her clit as his expert fingers curl inside of her, spreading her walls, and she explodes, crying out uncontrollably, fire raging down her nerves.
He draws out her orgasm, tracing circles on her clit until she is completely spent, lying boneless against his chest.
"I, Nikola Tesla, swears to take you, Helen Magnus, whenever you ask." He whispers in her ear when her legs are no longer shaking with the intensity of her pleasure and her breath has returned to normal.
She lets out a breathy laugh at that and turns her head slightly to place a kiss on his jawbone.
"Do you also vow to undress me sometime soon?" She wonders petulantly, running her fingers through his messy hair.
He hums, hugging her tighter against his chest.
"As soon as you're able to stand, I do." He promises.
But right now, he is perfectly happy with contemplating the picture of her perfectly disheveled and spent reflection in the mirror.