Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

“ T ell me how you are feeling now,” Morgan commanded softly, untying the braid in her hair.

Pleasure rippled through him as he gently ran his fingers across her scalp and down her free tendrils. In his lap, Helena’s smile slowly spread as she kept her eyes closed, her body stretching languidly into his touch. He had gotten her back to his home and out of her gown, and he had just finished massaging ointment into the handprint shaped bruises that now branded her bottom.

He did not do this. Not typically. When he took a lover, he often left her feeling euphoric and sated just as Helena was, but he had never stayed around after they had finished. He had never checked the prints his hands had left behind and had certainly not massaged the sore muscles within their supple bodies. He would just pay them their coin and go, sometimes with a ravaging kiss that would send them spinning again, but nothing more than that.

Helena’s submission to him had been a gift. He had never experienced anything so addictive, so perfect. It was as if she had been made just for him. He had known her all her life, and yet all this time, he had never realized that they were so alike.

Like him, Helena had two sides. One that she showed the world — haughty, intelligent, kind yet willful, and one that she kept to herself. One meant only for the darkness, like his own. He wanted to make women fall to their knees, but Helena? She desired a worthwhile reason to go to her knees. She now understood that not all men were worthy of her, and comprehended why she became so waspish around weak men.

Morgan mentally shooed the thoughts away as he focused once more on the woman before him, laid out on his lap like an offering he did not deserve. He could tell by the look in her misty eyes that she was still immersed in the lulling sensations that her submission to him had created. He suddenly wished that he did not have to send her home. He wanted to keep her with him, just as she was, dazed and aroused for days on end.

Perhaps forever .

“The same as I was in the carriage,” Helena sighed, nuzzling her head into his massaging hand.

Morgan chuckled softly, loving how exhausted and sated she looked in that moment.

“Then say it again,” he encouraged, moving his hand down to her neck. He squeezed gently, and Helena’s eyes fluttered open as her smile grew.

“You take me to places,” she explained again, her cheeks turning pink. “In my body. In my head. You make the room spin and disappear.”

“And how do I do that?” he mused, his own smile growing.

He found it adorable that she had not blushed at all when he had shoved his phallus down her throat at the masquerade but was now turning as red as a strawberry while he asked her intimate questions.

“The way you touch me,” she whispered, her blue eyes slowly dilating again, “The way you speak to me. Command me. You are so rough… yet so tender. It makes my head spin and my body yearn for more.”

Morgan swallowed hard. More. God, there was so much more he wanted to show her. They had four lessons left, but there was a certain line he knew he could not cross. And right now he hated that damn line more than anything in his life.

“I now know why ladies are always pouring themselves over you,” Helena giggled, turning in his lap so she could look directly up at him.

Morgan’s brow arched as he reached down and gently removed the collar from her neck, massaging his hand gently around the dark pink line it had left; it would be gone by morning.

“And why is that?” he asked, moving to her wrists.

“If you treat them like this, why would they not?” Helena laughed softly.

Morgan smirked at her as he lifted her ankle and brought it towards him.

“I told you,” he reminded her softly, “I do not treat the others the way I treat you. You are different.”

“Is that why you did not sell me to Apollo?” she asked.

“In a word, yes. At those parties, guests partake in a wide variety of fantasies. There are some women who like the idea of being sold to someone, and there are some men who like the idea of buying a sex slave. None of it is ever without consent. They enjoy being passed on to other men.”

“But Apollo seemed determined, offended even, when you told him no.” Helena pointed out.

“He is not used to me being so protective of my paramours,” Morgan confessed. “None of them has had the effect on me that you have.”

Helena’s smile slowly faded as her amusement turned into one of slight concern.

Morgan forced a chuckle. He was not inclined to allow the moment to become too personal and patted her foot before pulling her from his lap.

“Come on, little one, it is time we get you home,” he stated, pulling her pink gown back over her body. His mind screamed in protest as he shrouded her lovely curves in the fabric, hiding her body away from him once again.

“No other man will ever get to have this part of me,” Helena announced softly, her voice ringing with sincerity.

Morgan felt his hands tighten on her dress as he perceived the honesty in her eyes, and he found himself speechless.

“My brother is going to have a husband chosen for me any day now,” she went on. “We may not even get to finish our seven lessons before I am wed. But I… I do not care anymore.”

“Why?” he managed to croak. Unable to help himself, he reached for her and ran his thumb tenderly over her jawline. His entire body surged with a longing to protect her as he watched her relax into his touch.

“Because now I truly know what it feels like to experience what I have read in my books. I now intimately understand such phrases as ‘his tongue licked along my flesh like a flame’. I have personally experienced words like ‘dizzying’, ‘pulsing’ and ‘gushing ’ .”

Her cheeks turned a deeper red and a chuckle slipped from Morgan’s lips as she shrugged at her brashness.

“I know now, Morgan, and I will miss those sensations. I will yearn to be touched again like this, I am sure, but for now — and for a long time — I will simply be thankful for the experience.”

Helena’s tone was full of praise and gratitude, yet Morgan felt a slow, aching burn beginning to radiate in his chest. He did not and could never regret entering into this deal with her, but he hated the reason she had to force him to agree to it.

“Your brother is a good man,” Morgan forced himself to say, ignoring the growing pain in his chest. “He will find you a husband of good standing; someone who will treat you like a proper lady. I know this does not seem fair, Helena, but Ambrose truly wants only what is best for you.”

Helena smiled sweetly as her eyes became glassy.

“Yes, he does,” she agreed softly. “But he has no idea who I truly am or what I want. He will make sure my husband is not a dandy, but the likelihood of him choosing a man that knows or wants to learn how to lead me? Well, you and I both know how improbable that is.”

He held her for a moment, a sense of mourning overtaking him as he realized the true sadness of the life Helena was soon to live. Suddenly he was proud of her. For all of it. For putting herself to the test. For loving herself enough to gain these experiences for herself and herself alone. He also felt proud of himself for helping her realize her dreams and desires. It was, he realized then, the most important accomplishment of his life.

“I will keep that part of you safe and alive, Helena,” Morgan promised, pulling her closer. “It will always exist within me.”

She beamed at him with gratitude as she reached between them and laid her hand upon his chest to feel his beating heart.

“And I shall keep such parts safe and alive for you as well,” she whispered. “Our little secret of who we both truly want to be.”

Morgan nodded, feeling an invisible bond snap into place between them as he pulled her in for a kiss. They would have their pact and memories to cherish for the rest of their lives. Still, a nagging sadness echoed through him as he realized that one day, very soon, that was all they were ever going to be. A secret memory.