Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

J esus Christ, I am going to hell for this .

Morgan watched Helena slide to her knees. She had metamorphosized from an eager student to a seductive goddess capable of enslaving all man, sinner and saint alike. Every man in the room, even some of the women wanted her. Damn him if he did not love knowing that he was the only one that could have her.

For now.

Morgan groaned as Helena pressed her hands to his thighs so that she could kneel between them. His thoughts flew from his mind as he captured a fistful of her hair and yanked her up by a few inches.

“What do you think you are you doing, little one?” he demanded, resting his forehead against hers. Unable to help himself, he drew in and kissed her lips roughly before letting her answer.

“I want to taste you,” Helena answered mischievously. Morgan reveled in her total loss of shame; her confident and sinfully, deliciously seductive voice.

Desire pulsed through him as he saw the clear yearning in her eyes. God, he wanted that too.

“I did not hear you ask,” he scolded tauntingly, clenching his fist more tightly around her hair.

He reveled in the way Helena gasped and shivered at his touch, the way her long lashes fluttered and her brows dipped slightly at the sensation of pain. Unable to stop himself, he reached out with his free hand and cupped her breast, thumbing her hardened nipple through the small beads and webbed strings. He grew mesmerized by the way her entire body came alive with just a small stroke.

“Please, sir,” Helena whimpered, her voice full of unabashed need as she stared up into his eyes, “Let me taste you.”

Pleasure roared in Morgan’s gut. Helena had so politely, so sweetly, begged to have his shaft in her mouth. She had implored him to let her give him exactly what he had been craving for weeks. Yes. God, yes.

“Oh , I do adore the way you beg me, little one,” Morgan groaned, a wicked smirk forming on his lips before he drew her to him. He delivered another fervent, brutal kiss to her lips, then released her hair.

A shiver of excitement trailed up Helena’s spine as she slowly drew the tip of her tongue up the length of Morgan’s rigid, veined shaft. Her mouth watered as she drew in her first taste of him and savored the gentle saltiness on her tongue. Behind her she could practically feel the yearnings of the others drilling into her, but her focus stayed firmly on Morgan’s eyes.

His dark green orbs were glittering through his mask with shocking golden embers of desire as his clenched jaw moved subtly back and forth. As her mouth wrapped around him, she could feel his breath coming in low, steady pulls, and stopping in a tremble in his lower stomach.

Becoming fascinated with his shudders, Helena began to move her tongue in time with them as she hollowed out her cheeks and was rewarded with a low groan and a thrust of his hips. On his next inhale, Helena took as much of him as she could down her throat, forcing her lips over her teeth so as not hurt him as his girth craned her jaw to its furthest possible capacity.

Satisfaction filled her as she felt his silky, pulsing tip touch the back of her throat, and she felt herself gag as she pulled him even deeper.

“Christ, Persephone,” Morgan muttered, tossing his head back in the chair as his hands delved into his hair.

He tugged her closer, encouraging her to continue with her exploration, and Helena felt emboldened. She drew him slowly out of her mouth, letting her saliva flow freely until the tip of her tongue danced along the small slit at the top of his rod. A low, almost aching sound poured from Morgan’s throat as he shivered violently, and Helena felt her sex grow wet and needy as she heard it.

She sat back on her heels and caressed the tips of her fingers up the length of his engorged, throbbing, deep purple shaft. Her mouth watered as she watched him hiss and buck his hips.

“Who is the sensitive one now?” Helena teased.

The wicked taunt slipped from her lips before she thought better of it, and it was only when Morgan’s neck snapped forward and his glowing eyes sparkled with both lust and rage, did she realize she had made a grave mistake.

In a whirl of movements Morgan yanked Helena from her knees. She was suddenly splayed across his lap on her stomach, and her dress was pulled up to her lower back. She moaned loudly as his fingers slid easily into her soaking entrance with fury, hammering into her so fast that she lost her breath.

“What was that, little one?” Morgan snarled.

Helena cried out as she felt his palm sting sharply against her left butt cheek as his fingers pumped harder and faster. The pain spread like an explosion of flames, but within seconds, the sting faded into a warm, rosy pleasure that caused a gush of her juices to drip down Morgan’s wrist.

“Are you being cheeky with me?” he demanded, delivering another hard slap to her right cheek.

“Yes, sir !” she hissed back, a wickedly dark pleasure filling her as she dared to look back and smile defiantly at him.

Pleasure and rage stormed together powerfully in Morgan’s eyes as a monstrously beguiling smile spread across his lips. Suddenly the fierce pumping of his fingers ceased, causing Helena to whimper, and her breath froze in her throat as Morgan shifted her hips back, and delivered a stinging slap to her sex that was so intense her vision went momentarily white.

Helena stayed frozen, unable to decipher what was happening to the nerve endings short circuiting throughout her body. Morgan’s fingers suddenly drove inside her again, and life returned to her body, flooding her with pure pleasure as her eyes fluttered open and she let out a loud, whimpering moan.

Morgan fingered her mercilessly as he continued his spanking, delivering hard, solid blows in a rhythmic manner, pausing ever so often to massage each glowing red cheek to provide her with a measure of relief. As she lay pinned on his lap, Helena’s body had felt like it had melted, and she mutely accepted his punishment for her show of blatant disrespect.

Helena’s second orgasm of the night was quickly approaching when Morgan’s speeding fingers suddenly stopped. Helena braced for another slap against her sex, but instead, both of his hands began to massage her buttocks. She sighed in bliss as he sensually massaged the stinging, bruised flesh, believing that her punishment was complete.

Tiredly, she snuggled into Morgan’s lap, reveling in the feel of the massage as his hands kneaded and pulled her cheeks apart. She whimpered and shivered when his thumb caressed her tight ring of muscle.

“You need to apologize to me, little one,” Morgan mused, slowly circling his thumb around the taut enclosure, pressing just a little into its puckered center.

Helena was so enraptured by the new pleasure blooming within her that she almost did not hear him.

“I-I am sorry, sir,” she answered with a sigh, lifting her hips into his touch.

Helena gasped and her nipples hardened when a finger suddenly slid back into her, ramming all the way up to his knuckle.

“That did not sound very convincing,” Morgan scolded, driving his thumb a little deeper as his middle finger continued to thrust into her.

Helena bit her lip as she fought off the dizzying need building inside of her. It was suddenly getting so hard to focus…so hard to will her body to do anything but give in.

“I-I am so sorry for sassing you, sir,” she said, this time louder, more emphatically.

“Say it again, louder,” Morgan growled, increasing the speed of his finger as his thumb worked in slower circles, driving in further and further until Helena felt a new type of fullness; a new and powerful rush of euphoria she did not know how to process.

Her body was now vibrating uncontrollably, sweat slicking down her body as she clung to the cushions beneath her. She was entirely at his mercy as she tried to fight off the growing thunderstorm in her groin. It gathered with a primal force she could not control, as though she would burst apart at any moment.

Completely undone, Helena began to release words. “Please. Sir. Oh, God, please forgive me-ooohhhh.”

She did not know what words had escaped her lips as the intensity of her second orgasm erupted in a tidal wave and all reason disappeared. Intense ripples of pleasure echoed throughout her entire being as she felt herself release on Morgan’s palm over and over again, her spurting juices flooding over his hand and leaking onto the hardwood floor beneath.

Helena was dizzy with euphoria and found herself on her knees again. Morgan towering over her as he fisted his pulsating, swollen shaft with one hand and her hair with the other. A primal need overtook her and she immediately opened her mouth widely and accepted all of him. Morgan growled savagely as her lips pulled tightly around his base. He suddenly shoved her loose with a gasping breath.

“Who do you belong to?” he growled, his eyes burning into hers.

“You,” she moaned, the word flying from her lips like a prayer. You.

She truly was his. She had no time to dwell on the thought as Morgan roughly plunged himself down her throat again. His thrusts were sharp and powerful, bruising her tonsils as he roared out his release. Helena’s sex spasmed and tightened and she felt Morgan’s member expand in her mouth. It forced her lips away from her teeth and caused her to bite down on him, and she felt his warm seed as it pumped into her.

There was no choice but to swallow. Morgan was so deep in her throat that she had no chance to taste him, but she could feel the long, milky shots fire one after another into her gullet. She blushed as her stomach growled, as if she had been starving for it.

Slowly, Morgan’s grip eased up on her hair, and his thrusts became more like caresses on her tongue until he gradually pulled his spent, semi-erect shaft from her lips, and eased himself back into his trousers.

“Come here, little Persephone,” Morgan rasped, tenderness thickening his tone as he pulled her up from the floor, cradling her to his chest.

Helena whimpered, tears pricking her eyes as he held her close and kissed her deeply, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

“Such a good girl,” Morgan rasped between kisses, lulling her into a hypnotic trance. “ Such a good girl, little one.”

Helena whimpered once more, unable to form words while her body hummed with pleasure.

“Have you had enough fun this evening?” Morgan asked.

His hand came between them, and though he still cradled her, he tugged the fabric of her dress back over her breasts and thighs.

“Or would you like some more?”

For a moment Helena floundered. More? How could there be more after that?

“We could visit another room,” he offered, running his hands along her body, as if he could not stop touching her. “Perhaps we could watch from a less private area, if you are feeling up to it.”

Helena hazily contemplated the offer as best she could in her delirious state, then shook her head in refusal. She had seen plenty through their privacy screen. What she now wanted was time alone with Morgan.

“Take me home, Morgan,” she said softly.

She almost did not catch it; her first mistake of the evening. He was to be addressed only as Hades or sir during the Devil’s Masquerade, and not by his real name under any circumstances. She tensed in his lap, her eyes wide with fear as she pushed away and began to say, “I mean?—”

“It is alright,” Morgan whispered, looking completely unbothered by her mistake as he stroked her hair out of her face. “Though I want you to try not to let it happen while we are still here, I believe that I will always prefer you to call me by my name.”

It was not arousal or lust that consumed Helena within that next moment. It was a sensation far deeper and more serious than either. There was care and affection in his voice and it stroked tenderly against her heart.

“Come,” he commanded her softly, raising them both to their feet. “Let us get out of here. There are a few things I must take care of where you are concerned before I allow you to go home.”

Though Helena was wildly curious as to what those things were, she simply nodded, and after Morgan inspected her once more to be sure she was properly reassembled, he stepped in front of her and unlocked the door.

“Hades.”

A man’s voice broke through their hypnotic reverie, deep and thick with aggression and lust. Morgan seemed annoyed by the person before them, and Helena looked at the stranger with equal irritation, and expressing no desire whatsoever to discern what he wanted from them.

“Apollo?” Morgan chuffed.

The man, shirtless and well-muscled as he stood in his black trousers and matte black, full face mask, nodded towards Helena.

“How much?”

Helena did not have time to worry before she saw Morgan’s muscles tense under the back of his jacket as a low, warning growl only she could hear poured from his chest.

“She is not for sale.” Morgan responded in a clipped and threatening tone.

“Name your price, Hades. I want her.” Apollo went on as though not hearing him.

He dared to crane his neck to look around Morgan’s shoulder, as though he needed to lay eyes on her. A shiver of revulsion coursed down her spine, and she gripped the back of Morgan’s jacket. Her heart thudded for a second when her hand touched something hard that lay against Morgan’s back, then began to beat in a calmer rhythm once she realized what it was.

She outlined the pistol with one finger before she felt his hands slide back and grip the handle. Helena smiled when his fisted hand instantly opened and embraced it, keeping it behind his back while showing her his willingness to protect her. Helena lifted her head in challenge and held the man’s shocked gaze as she peered around Morgan’s torso and ran a possessive hand down his chest.

“I do not believe the lady is interested in your offer,” Morgan drawled. He did not raise the pistol. He did not need to even show it. How she had molded to him had been enough of an explanation.