Disclaimer: Characters of Warehouse 13 do not belong to me. I'm just having some fun with them, I'll put them back once I'm done.

A/N: A bit of a role reversal from 'Dark Desire'. For alittlebit-aces and gainesm.

Fire raced across her skin, and she trembled in the wake of it. Coaxed to life by the tongue traversing the planes of her naked torso, Myka Bering was lost to the rest of the world. She floated upon an endless wave of pleasure, oblivious to even the bed beneath her, and there was nothing but the woman above her and an acute awareness of every nerve ending in her body. All jumping, vying for attention, attention that would be given in due time.

For Helena G. Wells was indeed an attentive lover, though she did have an excruciatingly pleasant tendency to draw out her almost intolerable torture until Myka quietly pleaded for release. And that was one thing Helena could always count on; Myka was not the screamer of the two. Still, Helena never had been one to give up on a challenge quite so easily.

Myka's hips jerked against her control as the tip of a tongue traced the outline of her navel and full lips peppered kisses in a vertical trail along her abdomen. Closer and closer her mouth crept, until Myka could feel cool breath ghosting across the apex of her thighs, making her hips cant upward, forward, once more.

"Pray tell, darling," and Helena's accent had always been enough to drive her to the brink even outside of the bedroom. Here within its walls, surrounded by silk and bathed in candle light, heady with the scent and sounds of the other woman; it was lethal. "Is there something requiring my immediate attention that I have perhaps overlooked?" Blinking open eyes turned hazel in the dim light, Myka let her gaze travel the length of her own naked torso to find a sight she was sure she'd never tire of seeing. There was something so endlessly pleasing about finding a beautiful woman, indeed the most beautiful woman Myka had ever laid eyes on, staring back at you from her place perched between your legs. Twin curtains of raven hair brushing the inside of your thighs as deft fingers trace intricate patterns only their owner knows the meaning of over sensitive skin. The sight made her breathless and Helena's smirk left Myka with little doubt that the effects had been noticed and well documented, perhaps many encounters ago.

"I want you." The hoarse roughness of her voice had surprised her once, but not now. Helena's actions could strip the very memory of speech from her mind with little more than a touch and Myka was glad when any vestiges of the ability remained. The Englishwoman archly raised an eyebrow, tip of her index finger languidly stroking circles across the very top of Myka's inner thigh.

"And you have me." The reply came alongside tinkling laughter, as beautiful as it was maddening and Myka caught herself groaning aloud.

"You know what I mean." But the reaction only served to elicit a low chuckle from the woman before her.

"And you know how I love to tease." Myka sighed as the feeling of perfectly manicured fingernails gently biting into her flesh caused her eyelids to droop. How she knew. Helena had offered her warning once, "It's in my nature," she'd said as Myka's hands had grasped fistfuls of the sheets they lay on, and there'd been no denying that yet.

"Please…" And then Helena was moving, motions fluid and full of an unnatural grace that she seemed to effortlessly exude, until Myka felt the bed dip on either side of her head and blinked heavy eyes open to find the shadow of desire itself hovering above her. Knees already bent, she lifted a leg to brush the back of her calf along the smooth curve of Helena's backside, gently urging the woman closer. Black hair fell to curtain them off from the rest of the world as Helena lowered her body and pressed it flush against the one below her in a contact so exquisite it could surely only end in death.

"Darling…" Low and husky, dripping with seductive sarcasm, a phrase drifted unbidden through the foggy haze that Myka's mind had become; la petite mort. And willingly, she'd die a thousand times over. "I do so love it when you ask nicely." Helena bent to press wet kisses along the length of Myka's neck and hummed her appreciation when dark curls fell away with a lifeless tilt as Myka turned her head so as to allow Helena's worship to continue. Soft lips brushed the shell of Myka's ear and pulled a gasp from her. "Won't you ask me, my love?" And Myka had never been one to indulge lovers when it came to pet names, but every utterance left Helena as though she were beseeching a goddess.

"Will you make love to me?" And so how could she refuse?

"Until the end of time." Helena's lips found her neck once more and her teeth and tongue teased the flesh beneath them as Myka moaned and writhed under her, until enough gasping moans had been freed to suit Helena's liking and a haphazard line of reddish-purple marks dotted pale skin. She moved again then, sliding down Myka's body like an inky shadow descending further into a darkness neither one of them had any desire to flee. And so they embraced it, body and soul, and Myka gave herself willingly to the dark side.

Languid kisses, the pressure of which was the only thing that betrayed the frantic intensity behind them, were scattered over Myka's lower torso. Over her hip bone and around the curve of her thigh, and she shuddered as she felt Helena's cool breath tease the sensitive skin between her legs. Her fingers curled around the silk sheets they lay upon, bunching it with a grip fierce enough to turn her knuckles white, and her hips undulated in a desperate need for contact, but there was none to be found. There was only Helena's rich, tormenting chuckle and another phantom caress.

"It would seem I have drawn this out quite far enough." And then finally, finally, Helena's mouth was on her. Cool lips spreading warmth and life into her even as she felt the woman pulling everything away from her. Deconstructing her with her ministrations, pulling apart the threads that were woven into the tapestry of her being and rearranging them, making her something new. Something wonderful, something beautiful. Myka disentangled one hand from the sheets and reached to thread her fingers through soft raven tresses, heart swelling and hips surging at the noise the motion pulled from the woman urging moan after moan past Myka's own lips.

And she was back upon her wave, soaring higher and faster, and she could see the shore and the rocks and paid them no mind, so great was her pleasure. So incredible was the moment. She would happily lie as a wreck upon the seafront for just one more minute of such indescribable bliss.

Helena shifted, her lips leaving Myka's slick skin as she lifted her head to press a kiss against the gasping woman's abdomen.

"And now I must indulge myself a little." Her fingers were enveloped in molten heat with little preamble and Myka cried out her pleasure, roughly tugging at the strands of hair still grasped in her palm. A low rumble left Helena's throat as her head was jerked to the side and her nose brushed Myka's thigh. She inhaled, deeply, and set a firm and steady rhythm as her tongue snaked out to lick sweat-slicked skin. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to control myself in your presence?" She breathed against Myka's leg, eyes fluttering closed as she lost herself in feeling. Myka always felt so wonderful around her. Above her, beneath her. "Don't you know that but a look from you sets my entire being alight with desire and need?" Helena felt the fingers slid from her hair and turned her head to watch as Myka wrapped them instead around the metal railings of the headboard. Dark eyes drank in the sight of her lover, her glorious body undulating with a restraint that kept slipping further and further out of reach, messy curls tousled and damp against her forehead, lip ensnared between her teeth as she tried for unknown reasons to hold back her cries; Myka Bering was a beauty unmatched. "With love, my darling." And as hazel eyes blinked open at the revelation, Helena knew her own soul had waited for that moment, that very second to depart. "My Myka."

There was silence. Gazes locked, Helena's movements never slowed and Myka struggled to keep her eyes open, but contact was maintained. Releasing her lip, Myka gathered a shuddering breath.

"If you love me," she whispered, "don't control it." Her voice trembled, though not from nerves, and she felt Helena still momentarily inside her. Saw her head loll so that her nose was once against pressed against the skin of her inner thigh. "Take me." It started as a low purr, rumbling quietly in Helena's chest with every rapid inhale. "Make me yours, Helena." Then strengthened and expanded, until her growl filled the room.

Helena's fangs pierced the tender flesh at Myka's thigh, sinking in with a barely contained savagery as Myka's torso arched and she let loose a guttural cry of ecstasy at the intermingling of pleasure and pain. Muffled against her leg, she felt Helena's answering moan at the same instance she felt the fingers inside her begin working again. Myka felt her essence being drained from her, and sang her pleasure to the heavens.

Fire raced across her skin once more, and they lost themselves together.