Epilogue

EPILOGUE

“ I s that a tear, old boy?” Morgan teased, throwing his arm around Ambrose’s neck.

“ No ,” Ambrose snarled, pushing Morgan’s arm off him, only to smile devilishly and pull him in for a fierce hug.

“Sure looked like a tear,” Ezra noted, smirking.

“He cried,” Duncan sighed, swirling his whiskey in his glass.

“Like a little girl,” Morgan crooned, and the three of them laughed and pushed affectionately at Ambrose as he began to curse and shove them back.

“Alright, you caught me!” Ambrose sighed. “But what do you expect? I was walking my baby sister down the aisle, after all. Did you see her smile, her exquisite dress, and the excitement radiating from within her? How could I not experience a moment of sentiment?”

“I think we were all affected,” Duncan admitted. “It was what was always meant to be. Congratulations, Morgan.”

Though the words were full of praise, all four of them noted the subtle meaning beneath them. This was the marriage Helena deserved to have. A wedding where she actually wanted to join in marriage with her husband out of love, not propriety.

“I am still very confused about how this all came to be,” Thomas stated, looking up at his adopted uncles with a suspicious eye.

“We all are, lad,” Duncan offered, clapping a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Best not to ask questions.”

“I will not have to marry my sister, will I?” Thomas asked, raising a worried brow as he looked across the room at Camilla, who was with Helena and the other women. Ezra and Duncan began to roar with laughter as Ambrose scowled and Morgan gave him a cheeky grin.

“Might I remind you for the hundredth time, dear boy, that Helena was not and never will be my sister,” Morgan pointed out.

“Still does not seem right,” Thomas muttered shaking his head.

“Tell me about it,” Ambrose muttered. “You think I wanted to see my sister married to this buffoon?”

“Speaking of the beautiful bride,” Morgan said loudly, alerting the others to Helena and their incoming wives.

“Hello, wife,” Morgan said chipperly, greeting Helena with a warm but quick kiss as she came to his side.

“Hello, husband,” Helena replied through her smile.

“Oh, darling, that dress is absolutely perfect on you,” Morgan groaned, unabashedly roaming his gaze over her. “Have I told you that yet today?”

“Only a thousand times,” Helena laughed.

It was true though, and Morgan could not get enough of seeing her in her wedding gown. He had loved her in black, but he wanted to worship her in white. In fact, he planned to do exactly that the moment their guests left. Which, he realized, was right now.

Their vows had been exchanged, the speeches had been made, the feast had been heartily consumed, and Helena had returned from saying her goodbyes to Teresa and her family, as well as a few other guests. They were down to their original eight, and as they all gathered together, Morgan motioned over a servant to refill their champagne.

Together, their group said their goodbyes to Thomas and Camilla, all promising visits in the near future, and waited until the younger ones had departed.

“Well, my friends,” Morgan announced, looking at the faces of his loved ones, Helena wrapped tightly under his arm, “it appears the festivities have concluded. Thank you all for your support, your love, and most of all, your friendship. May we live merrily and peacefully from now on.”

“What, no joke?” Ezra retorted, causing a wave of laughter to ripple through the group.

Morgan chuckled along with them as he looked down into Helena’s eyes. Her blue orbs were bright with a mixture of love and excitement, and his grin widened as he saw his future there.

“Not this time,” he replied, raising his glass at the center of them. “To us.”

“To us,” everyone toasted, clinking their glasses against Morgan’s before having their final drink.

“Morgan,” Helena whispered, staring at the painting before her.

“Do you like it, my love?” Morgan asked, standing behind her as they both looked up at his work. “I thought I would try my hand at painting you with clothes on this time. Not my favorite way to portray you, but I must say, I am rather fond of it.”

Helena gazed in awe at the painting of herself. Morgan had been able to capture her beauty and essence from his very first coal stroke, but there was something more intense about this particular painting. Instead of being posed, naked and welcoming, she stood, wearing the black dress and mask Morgan had bought for their second lesson at the Devil’s Masquerade.

Her stature was tall and fierce; intimidating but still incredibly feminine and beautiful. Her blue eyes glimmered behind the mask with both fire and life, creating a sultry warming glow that seemed to emanate from the painting itself. In this one, she was so clearly the one who gave commands. It was how she presented herself to everyone else but him. For him, she went down on her knees.

“It is a wonderful present, thank you,” she said sincerely, turning in his arms.

Morgan smiled as he bowed his head to her lips, the words, “my pleasure,” breathing out as he sealed the kiss. Helena felt her body melt into his as they deepened their kiss; excitement skittering through her as she realized that her wait was finally coming to an end. She reached for the buttons at the back of her neck, trying to work the frustrating things free.

She was rewarded with Morgan’s soft chuckle before his hands reached for hers and captured her wrists.

“Let me take it off,” Helena pouted, fighting Morgan’s hold on her wrists.

She had given into his request to remain chaste until their wedding, had kept her excitement at bay all throughout the ceremony and reception, but now that their guests were gone and they were alone in Morgan’s bedroom — their bedroom — Helena did not want to wait any longer.

Morgan chuckled as he kissed her pouting lips but did not release his hold on her wrists.

“ I will take it off when I am ready for you to take it off,” Morgan replied, his tone chastising. “Patience, little Persephone.”

“I have been patient for long enough,” Helena insisted as Morgan lowered his lips to her neck. “I have — ohh!”

Her words of complaint were cut off with a gasp as her husband’s teeth sank seductively into her flesh and his hands gripped the back of her dress, which was held together by a long row of small, pearl buttons, and gave it a sudden yank.

A shiver traveled up Helena’s spine as she felt the cool air and Morgan’s hot fingertips touch her bare skin. Her brain immediately cleared itself of all thoughts.

“Turn for me, little one,” Morgan commanded, his deep voice full of seductive authority.

Her body was warm and hummed with electric desire. Helena turned away from him with effort and gasped again as she heard the deft sound of a knife’s blade cut through the strings of her corset in one straight line. The ruined undergarment was roughly pulled away from her, dragging along her nipples in a teasing fashion that made her quiver.

Before she could recover, Helena felt Morgan’s lips begin to move slowly down her back, starting from the base of her neck and only stopping when his lips brushed the end of her tailbone. When he finished, he rose back up and slowly dragged down the front of her gown until it was a puddle of white clouds on the floor.

“There you are,” he murmured in appreciation as he walked a patient circle around her. “I have missed you, Persephone.”

His voice was filled with awe as he took his time taking her in, and though Helena was flattered, her need and impatience were brewing into a dangerous combination.

“And I have missed you,” she breathed, following him closely with her eyes.

“Where were we in our last lesson?” Morgan asked, taking off his jacket.

Helena’s cheeks flushed red as she thought of their last exercise. Though they had slept apart the last week and Morgan had yet to take her innocence, they had still continued down their path of sexual exploration, especially when it came to Helena’s submission.

“Crawling,” she replied, licking her lips as he took a seat on the edge of their bed. “And using my teeth to undress you.”

“Shall we start where we left off then?” He suggested with a gleam in his eyes, and Helena nodded excitedly.

“Very well, then, little one. On your knees. Come to me,” Morgan commanded, untying his cravat.

Helena felt her body tremble in anticipation as she slowly went to her knees and crawled to him. By the time she reached his knees, he had removed his shirt and sat bare-chested with his legs spread wide apart. Morgan groaned, causing her mouth to water as she rose up slowly, placed her hands on his knees, and laid a warm kiss on his abdomen.

She whimpered at the salty, clean taste of Morgan’s muscled torso, and placed another slow, seductive kiss on the next muscle down, this time letting her tongue flick across his flesh. With another groan, Morgan reached out, thrusting his hands through her pinned hair, and drew her lips to his in a deep kiss.

“Maybe we will continue our lesson later,” Morgan rasped against her lips.

Helena nodded willingly as she felt him lift her up into his lap, then to the bed where he pressed her back against the silky sheets and began to devour her. He kissed and licked his tongue over her lips, her neck and then her breasts, where his tongue and teeth played until she felt an overwhelming ache form in her lower belly and swell there until it exploded in a gush of pleasure.

From there Morgan’s mouth traveled down her abdomen and towards her sex, his kisses growing hungrier and rougher until he reached the valley of her inner thighs.

“Morgan!” She moaned, her hands thrusting into his hair as he fused his mouth to her dewy, fragrant petals.

“Very good, little one. Say my name,” Morgan groaned, increasing her pleasure by inserting two fingers into her heated, wet canal.

Without thinking Helena obeyed, chanting his name over and over again until another release tore through her body and blinded her mind with a brilliant white light. With needy hands she gripped his shoulders and dragged him up her body.

“Please, Morgan,” she whimpered, her feet and legs working at lowering his trousers.

When Morgan pulled away to remove his trousers, Helena caught a glimmer of something she had never seen in him before; a lack of control.

Suddenly, she realized that he had probably imagined their first time unfolding differently, but because he too was so built up with desire, he had abandoned all of his plans and relinquished his need to maintain the upper hand. For the first time, they were on the same level of frenzy, and Morgan had just as little control over his need as she did.

“Come here, my love,” Morgan whispered, lying on top of her as his mouth joined with hers.

Helena’s legs wrapped securely around his waist, inviting him to settle his hips into hers.

“Take a deep breath,” his sultry voice commanded, thrusting between her soaking petals.

Helena obeyed the command as if she could not help it, then the sight of Morgan’s handsome face looking down at her blurred as she felt a deep, aching pain begin to pulse in her womb. Her breath blew out in a rush as her back arched into the tight fit of Morgan’s manhood, and through the pain she felt a familiar spark of ecstasy.

“Morgan,” she whispered, looking up at him pleadingly as she dug her nails into his forearms.

Her vision drew into focus again as she felt the gentle rock of his hips, and she whimpered when she saw the adoring, fascinated look in his forest-green eyes.

“I’m right here, Persephone,” he promised, lowering himself to his elbows so he could hold her closer. “Move your hips with me, that’s it. There, is that not better?”

The shift into the more intimate position caused the fullness she felt to expand, and for a moment, she whimpered in pain as she took in even more of her aroused husband. Through it though, she heard his gentle command, and began to move her hips in the same rhythm as his.

Helena’s whimper of pain slipped into a relaxing sigh of pleasure as the discomfort melted away, and her body relaxed completely beneath him. Deep, resounding waves of pleasure were emanating through her entire body as they moved together, and after only a moment, she forgot that there was any pain to begin with.

“ Yes, little one, look at me,” Morgan moaned. “Let me see those beautiful eyes. Do you need me to stop?”

“No!” Helena gasped, her lashes fluttering open as her hands instantly clutched to his biceps.

For a moment she had gotten so lost in the hypnotic pleasure of their lovemaking that her head had lulled back into the pillows and her entire being filled with fiery sparks of pleasure. Morgan chuckled wickedly, drawing his chiseled lips into a devilish smile before capturing her mouth in a deep kiss and driving his hips faster.

His name ripped from her lips once more as Morgan began to release his own need, and her fingernails dug deeper, scratching little red rivers over his bulging biceps and shoulders. The little sparks of pleasure were quickly growing into fires, erupting their ecstasy through every pore and tooth.

She hadn’t even realized she’d leaned up and bit his neck until his roar of mixed pleasure and pain erupted in her ears. Suddenly his hand was at the back of her head, locking her teeth in place upon his flesh as his hips drew into an impossibly fast pace. Locked into him, unable to do anything but hold on, Helena moaned her ecstasy into the deepening bite mark on Morgan’s chest as the pleasure emanating from her womanhood became too much to bear.

When her release flooded through her, a rainbow of color flooded behind Helena’s eyes like never before. For a moment, the intensity of the pleasure was so much she could not breathe, could not unroll her eyes — and then Morgan’s release came. Her name poured from his lips like a thunderous prayer as he suddenly thrust into her with all his remaining might, and she whimpered wickedly when she felt his seed rushing to meet her own orgasm.

“Oh, my god,” Helena breathed when Morgan’s grip finally released her biting hold on his neck.

Her heart still beating rapidly, her body still trembling from their intensity, she drew in deep mouthfuls of breath as Morgan slipped to her right; placing kisses along her neck as he took his own deep breaths.

“Oh, my Helena,” Morgan groaned, giving her a sly smile before moving up to kiss her.

Amid her thrumming post-coital ecstasy, Helena giggled into Morgan’s lips. Their arms drew warmly around one another, melding them close.

“How bad is the pain?” he whispered, stroking his hand lovingly over cheek and jaw.

Sleepily, Helena shook her head as a soft smile touched her lips.

“What pain?” she teased.

Morgan smiled back, a low chuckle in his throat, and slid her to her back. She moaned softly when his hand moved to her lower belly and began a gentle massage.

“See, are you not glad we waited?” Morgan teased.

Helena’s eyes fluttered open again and she glared at him as she smirked.

“No,” she remarked truthfully, which earned her another chuckle from Morgan.

“But I am glad you are my only,” she said, still smiling.

Morgan let out one more soft chuckle before his cheeky smile grew into one of pure adoration.

“As am I. And you. You are now my only. From now until forever.”

Helena’s heart bloomed with emotion and relief at his words, and she leaned up to brush a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Is that a deal?” she asked playfully.

“No,” Morgan smirked, his hand sliding to her throat so she would hold still.

They both look at one another with pure love and happiness as they smiled softly.

“But it is a promise.”

His lips then sealed against hers once more, and delirious with joy, Helena slid against him, and kissed him passionately back.

The End?