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Helena Wells-Quinzel is H.G. Wells (indelibleink) wrote in makebelievelog,

Helena was really trying to control herself. But really, she wasn't a patient person when she wanted something, and considering she wanted Myka and the woman was currently sitting beside her without a shirt on didn't exactly help her rather limited amount of control. In fact, she barely had any, but was really trying not to run into things. But then Myka had decided to tease her. Myka certainly had power over her, though Helena may not exactly like admitting such a thing in the current circumstance.

Feeling the way Myka touched her put her entire body on high gear. Her nerves tingled, shivers running all along her body. The closer Myka leaned closer to her, Helena's heart beat faster and harder in her chest. And Myka's goal of driving her mad was a success. If the touching hadn't been enough, the tone of Myka's voice was more than enough to snap Helena's control over herself. After all, she hadn't had sex in over a century, and now with the woman she loved half naked beside her, Helena wanted nothing more than to ravish her and be ravished by her.

"Bloody bollocks," she cursed in a slightly hoarse whisper, her eyes locked onto Myka's. The lust and want and need was overwhelming within her dark and expressive eyes. And as Myka was dangling meat in front of a starved wild cat, Helena was going to pounce. Sliding her hands up along Myka's arms to her shoulders, Helena drew in a ragged breath before suddenly shifting position. She straddled Myka's hips, sitting on her thighs and pressing her against the back of the couch, leaning in close to her. "Why make the trip to the bed, when there is a blissful sofa right underneath us?" Helena's own tone was low and dripping with lust and need. Despite the emotional drain she'd suffered, her body was fully awake and humming, no screaming with need for Myka's touch. She slid her fingers along Myka's shoulders, tracing little patterns along her collar bone and down along her chest.