34. Helen #3
He drags his touch over me, lingering, appreciative. “You’re so perfect,” he murmurs. “Do you know that?” He moves to the side of the bed and draws me over his lap.
Smack.
“Liam…” I gasp, absorbing the impact.
Then the next slap lands. The sound of it, the crack of his palm, sends a different kind of arousal through me. My skin feels alive, every inch sparking.
“You like this, Hellion?”
“Yes,” I sigh as he delivers another stinging slap.
It’s ridiculous, but I know better. With him, nothing feels like punishment. The more he swings, the more my want intensifies. I twist beneath his restraint, hungry for the next strike. Instead, he pauses. His palms move in a soothing sweep over the flushed skin he’s marked.
“I didn’t mean to starve you tonight. The main that I’m planning…” He traces a finger down the path of my spine. Lower, and lower, until his fingers find exactly where he meant them to.
Is he asking what I think he’s asking?
The small portions suddenly make sense. And so does the lack of spices. I’ve heard about the mess. Thank God he anticipated that, because I would’ve been spectacularly unprepared.
Before I can respond, he lifts me with surprising gentleness. We settle onto the mattress, facing each other.
He squeezes my knee. “You okay?”
“Yes,” I say, placing a hand on his cheek.
“I want to do it with you, Helena.” He draws me closer, his hands settling just behind my hip. “You don’t have to say yes. But I do want you. Here.” His thumb presses lightly at the small of my back, while his other fingers spread lower.
I hold my breath, imagining it. He could’ve taken what he wanted, and I would’ve let him. But the fact that he asked first makes it ours.
My posterior voluntarily rubs against his hold. “You want to come in my—ass?”
A slow exhale leaves him. “Have you done this before?”
“No…I haven’t,” I admit.
“We do it together, okay?
I turn slowly and lower myself onto my stomach, offering trust. Though I’m fully aware he’s not exactly modest in size. “You’ll have to be…” I glance back at him, pulse racing. “A little careful.”
“You can say no. You owe me nothing.”
The certainty in his voice should make me reconsider. Instead, it draws me closer to him. Not because I have to, but because I want to. As his equal. As the one choosing this.
“I want to do it,” I say, fully settled now.
“You can tell me to stop at any time. I need you to know that.”
“I will,” I murmur. Then, with more resolve, I say, “Just take me.”
I have never wanted him more than I do in this moment. The ache rises from somewhere uncharted, something that feels older than fear and stronger than doubt. I haven’t done this before, but I’m not blind to what it means. It should scare me. But with him, it feels right.
I adjust my hips. He doesn’t make the big move. Instead, he showers me with kisses and blankets me with his massive body. His hand slides between us, then slowly, he sinks two fingers inside my pussy.
My breath breaks on his name. Somewhere below, footsteps thud across the floorboards, a reminder that we aren’t as alone as we pretend to be.
The staff of this establishment likely understands discretion better than most. And tonight, I doubt they’re eager to interrupt whatever the man who signs their checks has decided to do.
“You’re already wet,” he says, drawing his hand back and watching the evidence glisten along his fingers.
“Don’t stop,” I moan, even though I know he will, and what comes next won’t be merciful.
He slides his hand between my thighs, this time more intent, his fingers moving as if coating himself with as much of my arousal as he can.
Then it happens.
I yelp.
My mind warns me that this unfamiliar sensation is risky. But the rest of me insists that in his hands, even danger feels like shelter.
“Liam…” I close my eyes, countering the pain.
I realize I’m not taking in his cock yet, he’s still sitting next to me. So he’s just warming me up with his finger. He presses more firmly, and I sigh. It feels like the slow climb before something breathtaking, with my every nerve waiting.
He pushes more of his finger inside me.
I scream. God, it fucking stings!
He stops immediately, abandoning whatever he was doing, his focus snapping fully to me.
“Helena? You okay?”
“Y-Yes. I’m okay,” I say, more surprised how fast the pain dissolves into pleasure.
“We can stop here.”
“No. No. I want more. Please,” I say. “I want more.”
He continues, this time gliding his finger in and out of my ass. Simultaneously, his other hand tends to my clit. A groan escapes my throat as though sensation has claimed every inch of me at once. I whine, calling his name. He keeps at it, increasing the intensity on both fronts.
“Liam…I’m gonna come…”
“No, not yet, Hellion.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying my hardest.
Then everything stops.
He gathers me against him, his arms curving over my torso, his hand stroking between my shoulder blades. He tilts my chin until our eyes meet.
“There,” he says softly, searching my face. “Now you’re ready for me.”