“Perfectly,” he replied, reaching into his jacket pocket. As he pulled out the silver chain and leather wristlet, Morgan’s thoughts blissfully shifted to something far more pleasurable, and his smile became genuine as he revealed the leash. A wicked pleasure consumed him as a greedy look of desire lit up Helena’s blue eyes.
“Now, come, little one, it is time for lesson three.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“You love it, do you not?” Morgan mused with a sinful smile, his dark eyes nearly black with lust.
Helena nipped teasingly at the thumb that was stroking her lip and grinned back. From the moment they had walked in, Morgan leading her by the silver leash, she had been consumed by a wicked pleasure as every person seemed to ogle the two of them.
She had delighted in the jealous stares she had received from the women and looks of longing and lust she had received from the men. Most of all, she had loved the way she felt being by Morgan’s side as his pet.
As before, the sight of people intertwined in any given spot in the house was a shock to her senses, but this time, along with that shock, she felt a sense of purpose. She was no longer an innocent little lamb wandering into a den of bears on her own. She had a wolf by her side.
When they had first been approached by a group of men, Morgan had pushed a guiding hand to her shoulder until she knelt by his side; a symbol of her trust in him. In the carriage, he had told her how to hold her head and hands when kneeling. Excited to carry out his wishes and hers, she had done so immediately, and right after that, Morgan began to receive praises regarding her good behavior and seductive appearance, followed quickly by questions about her origin.
“She is mine and that is all you need to know,” Morgan had answered, stroking his hand over the top of her head. He had then hunkered down and held her gently by her jaw.
“Are you not, my little one?” he asked in front of their growing audience.
A sense of freedom had burst through her when she had answered “yes, sir,” and was rewarded with his proud smile.
“Such a good girl,” one man had cooed. “Will she be of free use tonight like your others?”
Helena had simultaneously felt two jolts of displeasure. While she adored when Morgan called her a good girl, she suddenly realized that she did not feel the same when another man did so. She was also briefly displeased by the reminder that Morgan had probably done this with many, manywomen, all much more free and willing than her to explore their fantasies.
“She will not be touched by anyone but me tonight,” Morgan had stated, gently tugging at the leash to bring her to her feet. He then slid his hand around her throat and kissed her in front of them until she was breathless.
“Anyone who thinks otherwise will take a bullet to the belly.”
At his side, Helena tilted her head higher and straightened her shoulders, an intense sense of protection consuming her in response to his possessiveness. As if pleased with her subtle response, Morgan stroked his hand down her hair and gave her braid an enticing little yank.
After that, Morgan had led her to an elaborate bedroom suite where a group of naked men and women had gathered on a massive bed and were undulating and moaning together. It had shocked her at first, seeing such an intimate scene for the first time, let alone with so many sets of couples, but she immediately became transfixed by the primal conflagration that was unfolding before her.
“In here, little one,” Morgan urged, taking her to a smaller room just off the larger one.
Like the other room it was furnished with a bed — though much smaller and clearly for only one couple — and one chair instead of eight. It was lit only by two red lanterns hanging from the ceiling on chains.
“This is a watching room,” he explained, moving her to the small splash of light that came through a square in a wall. “Come.”
Helena let Morgan’s hands lead her to the square, and she felt a wicked tingle as she looked through it. At first glance she felt as though she were viewing a painting backward, but as her eyes adjusted she realized that she could see beyond the paint and into the room where the others had gathered.
“They cannot see us!” she whispered excitedly.
“No,” Morgan agreed, reaching for her neck to caress his thumb down its column, “but we can see them. Shall we enjoy the show?”
Helena nodded and felt warmth pulse through her body as Morgan teased into her ear, “such a wicked little Persephone.”
Unable to help herself, Helena smiled widely. She rather liked that Morgan thought of her as wicked. She then felt the familiar tug of the leash and turned with Morgan to follow him to the chair that faced the faux painting, where he then pulled her onto his lap after taking a seat.
His fingers at her waist created tiny licks of flames over her skin as he began to turn her until she faced forward and her back was parallel to his chest. He then spread his legs slightly and traced the high slit of the dress until he reached her inner thigh, and moved each of her legs to dangle over his own.
Helena felt a rush of excitement as she pictured lustful eyes turned upon her and Morgan. Although no one could see, she was thankful that the dress draped down between her parted legs and covered her sex.
Morgan’s lips pressed into the back of her neck, making her feel dizzy as his hand disappeared between their bodies. She let a moan slip from her lips when she discovered he was freeing his already engorged manhood and letting it rest against her lower back between her dimples.
“Did you hear that?” a muffled voice said from outside.
“I saw Hades take his new pet in there. He said we could not touch but said nothing about us watching them. Come, let us give them some company,” another man’s voice said.