Sanctuary Fic - Love in the Library
Title: Love in the Library
Author: ladydeadlock001
Rating: R/NC-17
Couple: John/Helen
Warning: sex, PWP
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sanctuary or it’s characters, just playing ;)
Summary: John & Helen have another late night encounter. The library isn’t just for reading. Takes place between “Vigilante” and “Hollow Men”
Word Count: 1,490
Love in the Library
John stood at the door to the Sanctuary’s massive library watching Helen stroll around the perimeter, glass of liquor in her hand, perusing the lower rows. He noticed her state of dress, or lack thereof…again. He grinned, wondering if wandering the Sanctuary at night in barely nothing was her usual habit. She was wearing only a plain white chemise and panties, and her feet were bare. He also noticed her swaying a little; it was obvious to him that she was intoxicated. When she set her glass down on the table and began climbing one of the ladders to reach a higher row of books, John quickly entered the library and made it to the ladder just in time to catch Helen as she lost her balance and fell into his strong arms.
Helen seemed oddly unsurprised to find herself in John’s arms. In fact she was giggling.
“Why thank you kind sir, for catching this damsel in distress.” she laughed. Her left hand cupped John’s right cheek as she leaned up to lightly and lingeringly kiss his left.
“Helen what are you doing? It‘s 3 am.” John said as he lowered her to the floor. He was worried about her state of mind as well as her health, afraid the sickness that Adam had inflicted on her was taking it’s toll already. “Awake all night is becoming a habit it would seem.”
As John took a seat at the table, watching her closely, Helen retrieved her drink and sipped as she slowly walked, or rather swayed back toward the books.
“I’m dying aren’t I? Will you not permit me to contemplate my death in earnest? I’m 159 years old, John, I should have done it at least once by now, don’t you agree?” She looked over her shoulder around the long dark locks of her hair.
“There’s no need Helen. We will find an answer if I have to strangle the little devil to do it.” John’s voice was soft, but determined.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She turned toward him, parting the chairs opposite him, stood between them and placed her hands on the table, leaning in. “And who will vainly continue to attempt to save you from yourself once I’m gone, hmmm?” she asked, gazing into his eyes.
John couldn’t help but notice her cleavage as she leaned forward, as well as the brightness in her eyes and the sheen of her dark hair as it fell forward over her shoulders. No, not the time, he chastised himself as his gaze left her breasts and locked onto her blue eyes. He didn’t think he should take advantage of her mood yet again, and she was clearly intoxicated.
“You’re being rather morose aren’t you darling? Let’s save that until we know for certain that we won’t have a choice, shall we?” He stood up, intending to be the gentleman and escort her back to her bedroom…without the liquor.
Just then she grinned at him, crawling up onto the table. “But you do need me, don’t you?” she asked teasingly, as she slinked slowly on her hands and knees across the table toward him. She reminded him of a panther…a beautiful, seductive panther getting ready to pounce. John now had an very nice view of her perfect breasts as the top of her chemise hung down, and could not ignore it. He felt himself harden at the sight of her.
“You so do still desire me, don’t you John?” She smiled, her own eyes dark with desire now, as she reached him, rising on her knees in front of him.
Helen stroked the sides of his face softly, kissed his neck lightly, sending a wave of lust through John’s body, exciting him further. “Answer me.” she whispered into his ear.
“You know the answer to that Helen, you always have.” He lifted his hands and buried them gently into her hair, revelling in the softness. He knew she was drunk, but she also knew her own mind, even then. It only made her thought process a bit more…free, and he could never resist her.
She brought her head back slightly so that they were cheek to cheek, her eyes closed. “John…did you know that skin to skin contact causes a body to release bonding hormones and endorphins that causes an enhancement of your feelings for someone?” Her voice was husky as she grasped the hem of her chemise with both hands and pulled it slowly over her head, tossing the garment aside.
John was almost weak with desire for her as she opened the buttons of the top of his black lounge outfit, which he wore under a silk robe. His eyes closed as his large hands found her breasts and lightly cupped each as he ran his thumbs over her hardened nipples. He could not find his voice to answer her, because the feel of her under his hands and her lips kissing a path across his bare chest struck him momentarily dumb.
Helen moved her lips from John’s chest to his lips, pressing her body tightly to his, bare chest to bare chest. With the feel of his erection pressing her, she began moving her hips against it, making it harder. John hooked his fingers under the top of her delicate underwear, sliding it slowly down her long firm thighs. Helen sat back on the table, allowing him to pull them over her feet, leaving her gloriously naked in front of him. He grabbed her waist and pulled her back to him at the edge of the table, standing between her legs. He sunk his hands in her hair again and crushed his mouth over hers, kissing her hard before he moved to one of her breasts, his tongue circling the nipple before filling his mouth with her breast, sucking and pulling.
The feeling of John’s mouth at her breast was intense pleasure, sending waves through her entire body, settling into a throbbing of need between her legs. Her hands found their way into his pajama bottoms and she grasped him with both hands, squeezing and stroking him until the intensity of his respiration matched her own. She leaned back on her elbows, wrapping her long legs around John’s waist beneath his robe. He leaned in, kissing her mouth, their tongues engaging in a sensuous dance while he reached down between her legs, running his long fingers through her folds, occasionally delving inside her. He wanted her to be ready for him but it was unnecessary, he could feel how wet she was.
He stood up, slowly sucking her fluid from his fingers and removed his pajama bottoms before lifting her from the table. Helen wrapped her legs around him again, his erection between them; she whispered her need for him in his ear as she caressed the back of his head with her hands.
John carried her over to the ladder, pushing her up against it. “Do you remember Helen?” he asked, his voice husky and barely above a whisper.
She let go of him and reached above her head to grab an upper rung of the ladder, a slow smile played across her mouth. “Very well.”
He lifted her butt while she pulled up on the rungs, then together lowered her onto his cock. She groaned with pleasure as he worked himself into her, beginning with long, slow movements, stretching her to accommodate him. Helen laid one hand softly over his cheek, unconsciously running her thumb over the scar. She leaned her head back against the ladder, closed her eyes, concentrating on John’s thrusts and the way it made her feel. It felt like she wanted him to be by her side for the rest of her life, however long that may be. She ignored the part of her that knew this was impossible; she would enjoy this encounter, the second in three days, and carry the memories with her, just as she’d carried her memories of their beginning for over a century.
John leaned in to kiss her breast, tonguing the nipple, listening to Helen’s breathing and the frequent moans that escaped her lips. His thrusts became faster and harder, his own rapid breathing broken by moans of pleasure. Helen’s hand left the rung of the ladder which she’d been holding for support, and she wrapped both arms around John’s neck as his pace quickened. Her arms and legs tightened around him as her orgasm ignited from her center, then encompassed her entire body, John drawing it out as he reached his own release with a final thrust, pushing himself as deep into her body as he could.
As he withdrew from her body, lowering her to the floor, she held tight to him. “John, stay with me.“ she whispered against his chest. “In my life…my bed,”
He squeezed her against him but said nothing, couldn’t promise anything. He picked her up and carried her upstairs.