Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

M organ drew in a fresh breath of air, but it did nothing to calm the firestorm of lust that burned within him. It was torturous enough to have Helena laid out before him like this, but what she had not known was that he had felt her backside grind into his heavily engorged manhood with every touch he had given her.

His shaft was achingly hard and the front of his trousers were damp with his need for release. He wanted nothing more than to free himself of his bindings and thrust deeply into the hot wetness that lay spread out in front of him like a feast, but he could not allow himself that pleasure.

“Such a good girl,” he breathed, pressing kisses into her hair and ear as Helena’s body continued to tremble on top of him. He held her for a few more moments, relishing the feel of her dewy skin beneath his palms, and then slowly slid out from under her.

Her eyes shone with worry as he stood over her, and he bit back the groan in his throat.

“Perhaps that should be enough for tonight,” he stated, his tone drawn and tight.

He would surely burst if they continued any longer, and he refused to release himself in his pants in Helena’s presence like some unskilled schoolboy. This was not going at all as he had planned. He had imagined his agreement with Helena would be fun and pleasurable, but not on this level. Not in a way that provoked this much want in him.

“Morgan, please,” Helena whispered, sitting up on the settee.

He nearly choked on a groan when her hands rose and her delicate, thin fingers laced into his pockets, holding him still before her.

“Finish the lesson. You said before that was just the first part,” she went on, her eyes pleading.

“The next part will be more painful,” he warned, his tone gravelly as he fisted his hands to keep them from touching her. “And I am dangerously close to losing my control. I believe it is best if we stop.”

He unclenched his fists to wrap his hands around Helena’s, determined to release her grip on him, but Helena’s hands remained firmly in place as she continued to stare up at him imploringly.

“I trust you, Morgan,” she whispered, her tone full of reverence as she met his eyes. She licked her lips and drew in a breath as if gathering her courage, and added, “please, sir. Show me what is next.”

Morgan’s rigid member twitched at her plea. So perfect. So soft. Any thought of telling her no had suddenly been wiped from his mind. How could he when she was being such a good student?

“Go to the fireplace,” he commanded, pulling her grip from his pockets. “Then turn to face me.”

Helena accepted his hand and he watched her with hunger as she swayed in her first few steps towards the fireplace. He waited until she was turned towards him, then slowly sat down on the settee, his legs splayed wide as he rested his hands on his knees.

He immediately noted that Helena’s gaze had dropped to his straining manhood, and was filled with roguish satisfaction.

“Now, get on your hands and knees and crawl to me.”

Helena’s eyes grew wide as he uttered his directive. For a moment he thought that she had reached her limit for the evening. Then, after her tongue darted teasingly between her lips and she seductively pulled in her lower lip, she lowered herself to her hands and knees.

Morgan could not help his groan of approval as she began to crawl towards him. She was learning so quickly how to please him; he did not even have to remind her to look at him. When she reached the space between his legs she rose up on her knees, placing her hands over his own, and sat patiently.

“Up,” he commanded, flicking his eyes to his legs. “Your backside facing me. Head facing towards one end, and your toes facing the other.”

Helena swallowed slowly as she moved to obey. As she slid into place, he felt her hip press against his manhood and his rigid abdomen, and he let out a soft growl as she slowly stretched herself out until her buttocks rested in his lap. She undulated her hips again, teasing him, and he let out a sharp cry as a small burst of his seed shot into his trousers.

Self-loathing, lust and primal need thrashed around inside of him as he felt the pitiful discharge, and he brought his hand down in a harsh slap against Helena’s left buttock. It was much harder than he had originally intended, but he had no time to apologize or ask how Helena felt before a deep moan left her lips and she raised her hips.

Morgan was shocked, pleased and proud of how well Helena took the unintended first slap. He had planned to warm her up to the stricter slaps just as he had with the rod and spur, but she seemed to have no need for it.

He placed his hand over her reddening cheek, desire consuming him as he kneaded the stinging flesh, then drew his hand away and delivered another equally harsh slap to the opposite cheek. Helena moaned once more, squirming in his lap as she reached for the nearest pillow and bit into it.

For a moment he contemplated commanding her to be still, but he could not. He was enjoying it far too much.

“That’s it, little one, bite the pillow for me,” he urged, running his hand along her spine.

Helena whimpered and trembled as she arched into his touch.

“You know I normally do not allow women to tease me this much,” he mused, tracing his fingers over her reddened cheeks. “At some point the pleasure becomes too painful, especially when there is no avenue for release. Now I am left with all this pain. What am I to do?”

He slapped her backside with emphasis and was rewarded with another heady moan from Helena, followed by a mumbling of words.

“What was that?” he demanded, slapping her right cheek. “Do not mumble, little one.”

“I said I am sorry, sir, ” Helena panted after the next slap.

“For what?” he mused, then slapped the opposite harder.

“F-for causing you pain,” she breathed out, her body now fully rippling upon the settee.

He slid his hand between her legs and felt her dewy heat dripping onto his trousers, then followed the small trails until he found her soaking petals. She pushed her hips into his hand and slid herself onto his fingers.

“Not fair,” he rasped, watching her work herself on his fingers.

In a flurry of movement he straddled her on his lap and freed his erection from his trousers. Their lips came together in hurried, desperate kisses as they began to grind into one another. Helena was beginning to trust him to lead, so even through her fervor, she allowed him to take her hip and guide her.

Morgan growled with approval as her wetness coated him and coaxed him to move at a scant pace and tunnel himself inside of her. As much as he now longed for it, he kept her exactly where she was, their hips moving rhythmically together as the friction brought them both closer to ecstasy.

“Remember what I said?” Morgan moaned, ripping away from their kiss as he felt them both near their end.

“About my name?”

Eyes closed, her face painted with pleasure, Helena nodded. She was so tense, so close to reaching the zenith of her rapture.

“Open your eyes, little one,” Morgan commanded, sensing her ready to explode as he thrust his shaft harder against her delicious mound. “Open your eyes and say it.”

Helena’s lashes fluttered with effort before she finally succeeded in opening her eyes. Her lips parted ecstatically as “Morgan” came pouring out in the sweetest, neediest tone. Her tongue clung to his name as he felt her release flood over him, the final syllable drawing out into a moan as she relinquished all control.

Morgan growled fiercely as his own explosion followed. This time it was far more intense than the last, and he could not help but sink his teeth into her shoulder as his seed rained from him and sprayed her breasts and abdomen.