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Extenuating Circumstances

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“Helena..” Myka groans, her voice muffled from the pillow pressed against the side of her face.

There’d never been time.. before, now, it’s like Helena’s trying to make up for every second lost. Myka awoke to the sensation of Helena’s lips trailing down her spine, of her hand painting gentle and caressing patterns against her back. The shuffling of sheets and Myka groans again as Helena kisses her way back up, slowly.

Lips at the base of her neck, nose nuzzling against her nape, Myka turns her head a little more, mumbles sleepily, “Haven’t you had enough?”

She can feel Helena’s grin as her lips ghost the shell of her ear. “Of you? Never,” Helena purrs, a sound that never fails to make Myka shudder. “I could spend a week just kissing your skin alone, I could spend a lifetime,” she pauses, fingers sliding down the valley of Myka’s ass, “making love to you.”

Helena’s fingers trail lower and Myka sucks in a lazy breath as they press against her, at how wet she is. Again. How her body has detached from her brain because, already, her hips are shifting, thighs opening a little wider and rolling, acquiescing to Helena’s touch.

Myka cracks an eye, which is a mistake because there’s the clock on the nightstand reminding her that in a few short hours the weekend will be over.

“Helena,” Myka groans, it’s supposed to sound like resistance, instead it sounds like pleasure. “It’s late.”

A curl of a finger, the hint of penetration and Myka’s hips twitch at the sensation. “Are you saying you want me to stop?” Helena teases.

“I’m saying..” Myka’s voice catches in the back of her throat, because that hint becomes action and Helena’s sliding inside her. And Myka’s thinking about time, she wants that week of nothing but Helena’s lips against her skin, she wants that lifetime of Helena’s body against her, fingers inside her. “We..” she whimper-pouts. “We have to go to work in the morning.”

“Be late,” Helena chuckles softly, butterfly kissing Myka’s neck. “Call in sick.”

“I’m not sick,” Myka breathes heavily. Because Helena’s added friction now. Because she’s straddled the back of Myka’s thigh and, if such a thing were possible, Helena’s wetter than Myka and the sensation, the ~feel~ of Helena’s pussy against her, is enough to make Myka clench around Helena’s fingers, curl her own into loose fists, balling the sheets into her hands. “I think everyone heard how not sick I am.”

Helena’s grinding now, rolling her hips in time with the gentle pushing of her fingers. “Extenuating circumstances.”

“I don’t see how sex is an extenuating circumstance.”

“Fine.” Helena leans closer, breasts to Myka’s back, breath panting as she presses her lips to Myka’s ear. “Blame me,” she whispers huskily, voice dripping with desire. “I am the evil one. Say I made you, I’m corrupting you..”

“Helena.. don’t.”

Fingers and hips still and Myka hears the regret in Helena’s soft inhale. The inadvertent opening of a wound still unhealed.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Helena whispers and the pain in her voice squeezes Myka’s heart.

Helena shifts, rises, the wet heat gone from Myka’s thigh.

“Hey!” Myka groans throatily as Helena begins to withdraw her fingers. “I didn’t say stop!”

“I thought..”

“Extenuating circumstances, remember? Now..” Myka shifts beneath her, rolling over onto her back. “Tell me you love me then finish what you started.”

In the sliver of moonlight inking through the crack in the curtain, Myka sees Helena smile. She leans down, stretching herself out until their entire bodies are flush against each other. “I love you,” Helena purrs. Then their lips meet. The kiss is slow, deliberate, almost teasing. It’s not long before Helena’s tongue is flicking at Myka’s lips and Myka moans a breath as she opens her mouth and Helena snakes her tongue inside.

The kiss lasts forever, as their heart rates rise, breathing turns labored between all the moans and groans, as hands roam, skin goes slippery with sweat and rolling hips add friction to the mix.

“Mmm,” Helena purrs as she comes up for air, nibbling playfully on Myka’s chin. “I can say with all certainty, that in all my years, I’ve never met anyone who kisses quite like you do, Myka Bering.”

“And I have to say,” Myka grins back. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Helena pauses, her face still as she hovers inches above Myka. The crinkle of her brows, the twitch of facial muscles and the expression on Helena’s face goes from desire to regret, remorse. “Myka,” she stammers, “I..”

“I know,” Myka whispers gently, lifts her head to press her lips to Helena’s. “I know.”

It would have been an apology. The last final hurdle between them. Helena’s apologized a thousand different times, in a thousand different ways, and it’s still not enough for her. Myka unable to convey what Helena has given her, here and now, is enough. So Myka kisses Helena, kisses her with everything she has, everything she can give and can only hope, this time, it will be enough.

“Tell me..” Helena breathes softly into Myka’s mouth. “Tell me you love me.”

Myka grins, wipes a tear off Helena’s cheek with her thumb. “I love you.”

It’s Myka who brings their lips together this time, who swipes her tongue across Helena’s lips and purrs at Helena’s easy acquiescence. She rolls them both over, trails her lips down Helena’s neck, finds the spot that always makes Helena groan wantonly. She slips her hand between them, between Helena’s legs.

“God,” Myka pants. “I love how wet you get.”

“Only for you,” Helena sighs back.

They’re kissing again, and Myka’s three fingers deep into Helena’s cunt, grinding against her thigh. Helena’s nails dig into the small of Myka’s back, Myka grunts, sinks her teeth a little harder than usual into Helena’s shoulder. And Helena makes this little whelping sound that almost has Myka coming right on the spot. Because she’s so close, they’re both *so* close but it’s not enough for Myka. Not this time.

Myka withdraws her fingers, so abruptly Helena whines at the sudden loss of penetration. Still straddling Helena, Myka grabs Helena’s other leg, drapes it over her hip. There’s a knowing smirk on Myka’s face as she gazes down at Helena, at the confused expression on her face. Then, Myka shifts her hips, angling Helena upwards and watches as Helena’s eyes widen with recognition.

“Oh,” Helena breathes as Myka pushes down a little more, a little harder and Helena’s eyes immediately go dark and hooded. “Oh,” she says in a throaty groan.

Slowly, Myka rolls, grinds her hips, lets Helena get used to the sensation, wet heat against wet heat, cunt against cunt. Slippery and wet and feverishly warm, and when Myka rolls her hips *just right*, when she feels Helena’s clit against her own, her mouth goes slack at the sudden clenching of her insides, the hard shudder reverberating through them both.

“Myka,” Helena keens, one hand reaching up and white-knuckle gripping the headboard as the other digs her nails deeper into Myka’s back.

It’s all the encouragement Myka needs. She grinds her hips harder, faster, an indelicate dance of skin and sweat and friction, the chaotic rhythm combining them all. A cacophony of sounds, as the headboard bangs against the wall, Helena yelps with each push of Myka’s hips and Myka grunts and groans.

Helena tenses, writhes beneath Myka in that way that says she’s at the edge and ready to plunge over.

“Helena,” Myka commands, her voice all urgent and hungry growl. Fingers cupping Helena’s cheek, she drags her thumb over Helena’s opened lips. “Open your eyes. I want to watch you come.”

Helena smiles. Her gaze smoky and seductive as she opens her eyes, panting another whimper, before her mouth goes slack and the whimper turns to a pleasure-pained keen.

It’s the most beautiful and erotic thing Myka’s ever seen, Helena coming. All she needs and she’s keening along with Helena, the feel of Helena right *there* seems to heighten the sensation, shudders rippling outwards and across her skin in new ways.

It lasts forever. It’s over too quickly, and Myka’s collapsing atop Helena, panting heavily into the crook of her neck. Helena’s arms drape lazily over Myka’s back, pulling the two of the closer, if such a thing is possible.

“That was..” Helena breathes, voice tinged with amazement before the words die in the back of her throat.

Myka nods her response. She knows there should be words, but the sleep she so desperately craved returns with a vengeance. Exhausted, sated, her lips curl into a soft smile before sleep claims her.


Myka groans as she slowly and groggily awakens. She stretches languidly, a dreamy smile on her face as her body sends reminders to her brain of the before. A slight case of sex sore, but nothing Myka hasn’t become accustomed to, and her smile broadens at the idea of becoming accustomed to waking a little sore in the morning after a night of sex with one Helena G. Wells.

The bed is warm, warmer still by the rays of mid-morning sun illuminating the sheets.


The thought snaps Myka’s eyes wide open. She jerks onto her side, reaching for the alarm clock and twisting it towards her.

“HG..” she growls, tossing the sheets off her legs and scrambling out of bed.

The bathroom billows with steam as Myka jerks open the door then slams it behind her.

“Myka,” Helena calls from within the shower. “Is that you?”

Myka yanks open the shower curtain, steps into the tub then yanks it closed behind her. “You know damn well it’s me!”

“Whatever is the matter, dear?” Her back to Myka, Helena gazes demurely over her shoulder. “And would you hand me the loufa?”

“You..” Myka blinks, shakes her head because she’s supposed to be angry. But all that anger dissipates with a look from Helena. Because, well, she is standing there, completely naked, and Myka can’t help but notice the way the water glistens off her skin, the little rivulets trailing down her back, flowing down the valley of her ass, over that tiny little spot on the back of her thigh Myka loves to suckle because it always makes Helena groan..

“I’m late.” Myka shakes her head, grabbing the loufa and stepping towards Helena’s back because, well, if they’re going to shower together might as well be efficient. “And don’t give me that crap about extenuating circumstances.”

“You’re not late,” Helena says then sighs, craning her neck as Myka begins scrubbing her back.

“I can tell time. I saw the clock, Helena. And I’m late, way late.”

“Extenuating circumstances.” Helena sighs again, turning until she’s face to face with Myka, bringing up her arms and placing them onto Myka’s shoulders as she steps closer. “In your case, I do believe it’s called a ‘three-day weekend’.”


“Today is a Holiday. And, if I recall correctly, it is also your day off.”

“I..” Myka stammers. Her eyes narrow as she drapes her hands onto Helena’s hips, inches herself closer until their bodies connect. “You knew this last night, didn’t you?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Helena nods, bringing her lips to the corner of Myka’s.

“It never occurred to you to say something?”

Helena grins and Myka can‘t help but melt at the way the smile lights up her entire face. “And miss the expression you‘re wearing right now? In the words of one Mr. Lattimer, I do believe you have been punked.”

“Punked, huh?” Myka pulls Helena a little closer, turning the two until Helena’s back is to the shower wall and pressing Helena against it. She leans in for a kiss, long, slow and lingering. “You understand,” Myka breathes as their lips part, “I’m going to pay you back for this?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. As long as you understand, I only accept payment in orgasms,” she tightens the arms around Myka’s shoulders, pulling the two even closer together. “Long, multiple orgasms.”

“Honestly,” Myka purrs as she lowers to her knees, draping Helena’s thigh over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”