Again, thank you all so much for your support. I'm so glad I added more to this story, as it has really inspired me lately. Here's the last chapter!
Nikola did not want to wake up. He'd been having the most marvelous dream. He'd made love to Helen nine times in a single night, he'd bitten her, she'd bitten him, they were mated and the sex was better than he'd ever dreamed before. She hadn't run off or laughed at him or started yelling for John. She'd been his, and he did not want to wake up to a world in which he could not kiss Helen Magnus without her shooting him afterwards.
There was the softest sigh next to him, and his eyes shot open, only to look directly into soft blue eyes that smiled straight into his soul.
He swallowed thickly, and all the events of the past two days resorted themselves in the correct order. Then, he grinned widely. Might as well go for broke and risk everything. "Hello, wife."
She laughed, "A new title! That's rare when you are as old as you and I. Though when the world is not at risk, I might want an actual ceremony and some kind of documentation to back that up, for sentimental reasons if nothing else, husband."
She leaned in and gave his lips a chaste peck, and moved her body closer to him as though it was the most natural thing in the world, her breasts pressed to his chest, her arm draped over his waist. He wondered once again if this was all a cruel dream and would be snatched away from him in a heartbeat.
"You aren't angry." It was an observation more than a question, though he could not quite believe it. He stroked a thumb over his mark on her neck, and she bit her full lower lip and let out a sigh that was the most sensual thing he'd ever heard.
She gave a sigh, "Perhaps I needed the push to acknowledge what I've suspected for years. When you live for so long, it's hard to risk pain that can last forever. I was too much of a coward to risk our friendship."
His brow wrinkled. "You must have known I love you, Helen. I told you in Rome, and before that, you must have guessed…"
"I may have wished, but it is very hard to tell when you are serious, Nikola. You hide behind that flippant, snarky mask too often to protect yourself. I was not sure what was real and what was an act."
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight to his body. "I'm sorry Helen, for not being clear. I was more coward than you, for I'd not known you a week before I knew you were the only woman I would ever love. I waited too long to tell you, and after John, I was afraid you could never forgive me, or yourself."
She pressed a soft kiss to her mark on his neck. "And now we'll never be alone. I have a feeling it would hurt too much to be apart."
"It was said that to be separated from your true mate for more than a few days, the pain was so great that death was preferable."
"I think perhaps it has always hurt when we were parted too long. I just grew too hard to notice it. So much time wasted."
"We've eternity in front of us, ljubavi. Not nearly long enough, but I'll take it."
He kissed her brow, her eyelids, and when she turned her face up to his, he pressed his lips to hers. Sweeter than any kiss he'd every stolen, she opened her mouth and invited him in, and what had been comfort soon turned hot. Even after the intensity of reliving the night past, he wanted her. His way, not the product of instinct and primal need, but the love of a man for a woman.
His kiss was passionate, but sweet, hungry, but not ravenous. She moaned softly and her hand stroked over his chest. He took that as encouragement. He pressed kisses across her jaw and nuzzled her hair, whispering in her ear, "Let me make love to you, lbujavi. Let me worship you."
Her soft laughter was his answer, and she began to unbutton his shirt, slowly, sensuously. "Only if you let me do the same, my love." She pressed kisses to the triangle of skin she had revealed, and he vowed that he might finally give up the habit of wearing an undershirt, if this was the treatment he might expect. Perhaps the modern idea of wearing less clothing had some appeal after all.
His hands swept over the warm curve of her back, tracing her spine and finding the gap between the turtleneck he'd chosen for her that afternoon and the linen trousers. Once, he might have regretted his choice of trousers rather a skirt for her this afternoon, but he intended on taking his time and worshipping her thoroughly. No shortcuts were necessary.
As soon as his fingers met the skin of her lower back her purred, her hips surging against his and he grit his teeth, wondering if he had yet to reacquire the control needed to make love to her properly when he still wanted to rip her clothes from her body and bury his cock and his teeth in her. He pushed down the bloodlust that would make him change, and contently himself with nuzzling her neck and flattening his palm against the soft warmth of her skin, stroking circles over her back.
She had much less benign intentions, and had managed to undo all the buttons of his Oxford shirt. She pulled it apart and spread one hand over his abdomen, making his cock jump. He couldn't stop the low growl that passed his lips, rumbling up through his throat like a sign of the beast trapped within. She chuckled with sensual glee, the sound utterly intoxicating.
"You are a naughty girl, Miss Magnus. So wonderfully forward."
"I've never liked to wait for something I truly need. It makes me grumpy. I think I've been grumpy for a good century or so." She licked a path down his sternum, and his hand pushed up the back of her shirt and she moved down, obviously intent on the goal of his trousers.
He pushed her, gently, down on her mattress, moving over her on hands and knees, his eyes bright. He laughed at her pout. "Now now, no need to rush. We'll get to that part, but there are so many fun things to explore first."
He needed to go slow. He didn't know how to explain, but he saw something flicker in her eyes and her expression changed, a sweet smile lifting her lips. God, she was all that was beautiful. She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her for a deep drugging kiss and made him more lightheaded than the drugs had managed. She could make him forget everything, his own nefarious plots, impending doom and destruction, his middle name and the spin rate for an induction motor.
He wasn't sure when his shirt had been somehow removed from his body, but he did notice when she'd neatly flipped them over and she rose above him, playfully regal, that ageless infinite smile on her face. Her warm center was fit tight over his swollen cock, and she swirled her hips in a loose circle, making him groan. She gave a soft, sexy laugh – utterly natural yet more stimulating than all the actresses since Edison marketed his first stolen movie camera.
She crossed her arms at her waist and gripped the edge of her shirt, then pulled the turtleneck over her head, exposing miles of golden skin and breasts barely restrained by the blue lace cups of her bra. She shook her hair out as she dropped the shirt on the floor by the bed, and it set those glorious mounds to shimmying an enticing rhythm. Letting out the smallest of growls, he rose up on his elbow and captured a nipple through the fabric, scrapping it delicately with his human teeth as his free hand slipped over her hip and pressed against the small of her back once again.
She wrapped her arms around his head, holding him to her breast and giving the most beautiful panting moans he'd ever heard or imagined. His hips bucked of their own accord, torturing his cock with pressure that couldn't find a release, not until he damned well let it. With a thought, the metal clasp of her bra unhooked and the material loosened and he pulled it away with his teeth. She laughed again, a reward even sweeter than her moans, and he returned to his treatment of her nipple, sucking the bud into his mouth and tasting the sweetness of her skin.
Her hips jerked against him and she growled at him. He looked up to see her eyes a swirl of blue and silver black. The thought of his Helen as a vampire, truly his perfect match, was ecstasy, and it took every shred of his control to let his teeth sink into her flesh and his claws rip her clothes from her body.
"Pants. Off. Now!" she hissed at him and he released her nipple with a pop and an enormous grin. She really wasn't going to run away. Not ever again.
He arched his hips and tumbled them over pushing her down onto the bed with a stern but gentle kiss while he searched for the zip on her trousers. Her hands came up to his waist and tried to do the same, resulting in an awkward struggle in which, surprisingly, he was the victor slipping her trousers and panties off her body as she shrugged out of her bra, leaving her nude and rosy with arousal, her tangle dark hair framing a face that looked at him with raw need.
He pulled himself off the bed, standing to shed his trousers and sitting at her feet.
"What are you doing, Nikola?" she did not sound happy. She sounded impatient and greedy. His smiled in victory then circled his hand around one of her elegant ankles, lifting her foot.
"I'm loving you, Helen." He pressed a kiss to the arch of her foot, and continued up, kissing and licking the tops of her foot, her ankles, her calves, pausing every so often to switch between the right and left limb and listen to her soft pants of breath. He bit the back of one knee and looked up to where she'd spread her thighs in invitation, her curls wet and glossy for him, her scent begging him to taste her core.
"I've wanted to kiss every inch of you for a very long time. Thought I might as well make a good start of it."
"You've got centuries to finish the job, ljubav. Please, no more torture!"
Oh, speaking in Serbian. She was playing dirty. He let his tongue trace over a tendon in her strong thighs and he followed it up, up, until he was at the juncture of those beautiful legs and her quim was searing hot under his touch. He gave her a long slow lick, the tip of his tongue swirling around her clit and she bucked up into him. His fingers stroked her entrance, and she'd healed quickly, for he could tell by her pants and the angle of her hips that his touch brought her only pleasure, not pain.
He thrust two fingers inside and she felt hot and slick and perfect, and his mind bloomed with the knowledge he'd reacquired so recently, knowledge of how tight she would grip his cock, how those muscles clenched when she came. Later, first, he wanted to hear her moan his name with all his faculties intact. He'd waited long enough!
Curling his fingers, he explored the wall of her sheath as he sucked lightly on her nub, resisting the urge to smile as he felt her fingers plunge into his hair and her nails scrape into this scalp. Ah, there, a shift in density, that hard little patch of flesh. He let loose the tiniest spark of electricity, barely enough to light a match, but she convulsed, her hips arching into his face as she screamed, "Niko! God in heaven!"
Oh yes, he'd reached the status of deity. Very very nice. His cock painful and throbbing against the bed sheets, he lapped up the juices that spilled from her, soaking her thighs and his chin, and let her boneless weight fall back to the bed. He kissed his way over the curve of her stomach and pressed a soft peck against each of her ribs until he was at her breast, this time sucking on the nipple he'd previously neglected. His cock brushed her thigh and she moved under him, rubbing the head with the soft skin of her inner thigh. "Please, Nikola. Please…."
He couldn't deny her, and he rose up on his elbows, hovering over her and looking down in her glazed eyes as they swirled between beautiful blue and breathtaking black. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pushing her own hips closer to his cock, completely ready to be taken.
"I love you, Helen."
Her eyes widened and she smiled, wide and uncompromising. "I love you too. Now please, will you get on with it before I go ruddy insane?"
He entered her in mid-laugh, his cock thrusting into her body as joy bubbled in his soul. Her laughter rang out as well as her arms came to lock around his back, her nails scratching at his skin as he set a slow, determined rhythm. He couldn't stop watching her face, keeping his eyes wide open to watch as her face bloomed with color, her cheeks pink, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. She let out the softest squeaks and moans, like she couldn't quite believe the pleasure they shared, and he loved every sound. It let him read her perfectly, told him how to angle his hips, told him faster or slower or harder without her having to say the words. Her nails grew sharper, her eyes blacker and he felt his own need begin to fight his intentions. He wanted to come, he wanted to spend his seed inside her and sink his teeth into his mark at her throat, but more than anything he wanted to show her he loved her, prove it more as a man than as a beast.
Her nails tore red ribbons into his back and her legs tightened so hard around his hips that bones would have been broken. She was panting hard, her quim tightening around with each stroke, so that it was almost impossible to resist his impending climax. He leaned down to kiss her and she bit his lip with newly sharp teeth, making his eyes go black and his teeth become lethal.
He drew back, afraid of what he might do, but she grinned at him, her teeth glinting even in the dim light.
"I don't just love the man in you Nikola," she pulled him down to her, bringing him too close to that tempting neck. She nipped his earlobe and whispered in his ear. "I love the monster too."
The world went a bit red around the edges as his sank his teeth into his mark with a groan. She moaned loud enough to make his ears ring and her walls contracted around him like a vise, making it impossible for him not to come with a white hot fire. Her blood was as sweet as his memory of it, the flavor of her pleasure richer than the finest burgundy he'd ever tasted, and he'd give up wine completely if he could only feast on her every day of his very long life. Electricity flickered over their skin, he couldn't hold it back any more. "Dusho moja, lbujavi, moja angelu," he muttered in Serbian, words of endearment lost in time, his mind misplaced in a haze of bliss.
He returned to the world breathing hard, Helen pressing equally breathless kisses to his jaw, his neck, her mark. He made to roll away from her, to save her the burden of his weight, but she held him tight with her body, her legs still loosely wrapped around his thighs.
"Stay with me, Nikola."
Everyone had had a decent night's sleep, and breakfast was a mostly civil affair. Henry and Kate kept smiling at each other, a phenomenon that was mildly interesting. The protégé tried to engage him in conversation, and Nikola found himself telling a very silly story about a fight he'd observed in 1910 between Jung and Freud, in which Jung had called Freud a dirty old man, and half the salon had erupted into applause, including Nikola Tesla. William, he really should call the boy William, snorted in laughter as well, and even Big Foot chuckled under his breath.
He sipped his glass of wine, and Helen drank her tea, but under the table they held hands like mere children. He loved it.
Henry finally asked the question that had been silent tension in the room. "So, Doc, are you really a vampire now? Do you feel any different?"
Helen smiled at Henry, "Surprisingly, other than slightly heightened senses, I don't feel terribly different. I don't have any particularly intense craving for blood, if that is what you are asking." Her eyes were hot on his profile, and he returned her gaze, knowing that her craving for him was high, no matter what she said to the others. "I think perhaps the Source Blood has long prepared me for such an occurrence. I consider it an advantage rather than a difficulty."
She speared a piece of peach from the fruit bowl on her plate and placed it in her mouth, stopping any further conversation from her part, but the way she relished that piece of fruit made Nikola wish he could steal her away to a bed again, no matter how long they'd been up the night previously making new memories.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his trousers distinctly uncomfortable.
"So, when the current crisis is over, you guys getting officially hitched?" Kate asked, a spoonful of corn flakes poised in front of her, dripping milk. She took her bite and Nikola turned his head to see Helen's reaction.
"Hitched?" Helen had a teasing hint of a smile at the corner of her lips.
Kate swallowed. "You know, shackled, tied down, married. White dress, boring music, dry cake and cheap champagne. Although I doubt Vlad would let you have bad champagne at the shindig."
Nikola laughed heartily, squeezing Helen's hand under the table. "What do you think, my dear? I was never one for parties, but I could make an exception. Will you marry me, love of my life? Again?"
Helen grinned wryly. "I suppose I could indulge you in that, my dear. I suggest we make an effort to save the world again, and then discuss weddings."
"Just, no bridesmaid dress, ok? Or at least not in puce." Kate shuddered, apparently at a bad memory. "How about a nice blue. I look good in blue."
"I shall take the matter under serious consideration, Kate. Until then, I'm heading to my office to finish all the paperwork and look at the latest reports of unusual activity from underground." She stood, not relinquishing Nikola's hand, and not missing a beat, he stood as well. Together they escaped the dining room, but just outside Nikola pinned her to a wall, pressing a kiss against her neck and breathing in her scent.
"Can we christen the couch in your office, Helen. I've always wanted to seduce you there, just so that each time you sit there you would have fond memories."
Helen made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. "If you agree to be the one to inform John when we are going to be married, you can bloody well seduce me on the roof among the pigeons."
He clunked his forehead against the wall next to her head. "Oh, he's going to try to kill me again, isn't he?"
"It's a good thing we're both vampires now. It helps with endurance." She pressed a kiss to his neck and wrapped her arms about his waist.
"At least we can have fun testing that endurance." He pulled away from her, taking her hand and leading her in the direction of her bedroom, not her office.
She pulled toward her office, and she won. But then again, the couch turned out to have excellent endurance as well.
I am posting one entry after this, which may earn me many flames. I like this story so much, I'm trying to create a new Urban Fantasy world for it, so that I might turn it into a full original tale, with some of the same relationship dynamics. Please read the next bit if you are interested, but I am warning you, so don't hate me!