79. Helena #4
“Just remember,” he said, as he inserted his fingers back into her with one hand while the other continued to play with her breasts. “Patience is an admirable quality and one that is well-rewarded in both field research and one’s personal life.”
Helena nodded but didn’t speak.
Bertram’s hands stilled on her body. “So, if I were to get up and walk away right now . . .”
Helena whimpered slightly but said nothing and remained perfectly in place.
“Good,” Bertram said. “Very good.”
He leaned forward and kissed Helena as he resumed his ministrations. With one hand still on Helena, Bertram took the other hand and began unbuttoning his shirt.
“Is this the reinforcement you would like?”
Helena nodded desperately.
“Very well. You’ve earned it.”
Bertram undressed—quickly, Helena was relieved to see—and before she knew it he was naked above her, every inch of his body pressed against every inch of hers.
“Gods, Helena, you’re so beautiful,” Bertram whispered into her neck. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
Before Helena could think of anything to say or figure out if she was supposed to say anything at all, Bertram had entered her, and she gasped at the rightness of the feeling.
She couldn’t decide if Bertram prolonging her torment was actually increasing her enjoyment of this moment or if she was just so relieved to finally have him inside her, but either way the ecstasy was excruciating.
She held him against her with all her might, running her nails down his back, gripping his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust.
But it wasn’t enough. With him, she could never get enough.
“Faster,” Helena panted. “Harder! Please, Bertram—you said I’d been good.”
“I did, and you have.” Bertram kissed her sweetly on the nose. Then he obeyed Helena’s command and began thrusting harder, faster, until Helena forgot how much he made her suffer through to get to this point and could think of only this.
“You may touch yourself,” Bertram said.
“Oh, thank you,” Helena replied sarcastically without thinking.
Bertram immediately stilled within her.
“Oh no,” Helena moaned, immediately realizing her mistake.
Bertram smirked evilly.
Helena closed her eyes and counted to ten, at which point Bertram began to move once again, taking her even harder this time.
Helena wasted no time obeying his previous suggestion and slipping her hand between her legs and moving it in time to Bertram’s thrusts.
“Good,” he said, and Helena felt a wild heat flood through her body.
The combination of Bertram’s praise and her own touch was a heady mix.
Between that rush of sensation and how primed her utterly denied and tortured body was leading up to this, it didn’t take long for her to feel the rising crest of her climax.
Bertram must have seen it in her face or caught it in the way her breathing became ragged, because he increased the pace of his thrusts and then sunk his top fangs into Helena’s neck, just as she had always liked it.
It was enough to push Helena over the edge, and she came with a gasping cry.
Bertram followed her not long after, then collapsed on top of her, burying his head between her breasts and kissing her sternum. He rolled off her and leaned over, licking at the spot where he bit her. He opened his mouth as if he were about to speak.
“If you say you’re sorry for breaking the skin, I’ll fully kill you,” Helena said without opening her eyes.
Bertram chuckled. “You know me too well.”
“And you should know me well enough to know that I am never going to be upset about being on the receiving end of your fangs.” Helena slit her eyes open just enough to tap Bertram’s tusk.
“You’re right, of course.” Bertram kissed her neck where he had bitten her, and then the side of her jaw, her cheek, her neck again and again and again, until Helena had gone from a post-coital haze of lust to an uncontrollable fit of giggles.
“I’m sorry,” Bertram said between kisses, although he didn’t sound sorry at all. “I just missed you. I missed you so fucking much. And I missed fucking you.”
Helena rolled over so she could laugh into her pillow, and Bertram immediately rolled on top of her to continue his frantic kissing.
“What am I going to do with you?” Helena said with a sigh.
“More of that, I hope,” Bertram responded without missing a beat. “Not right now, because I’m exhausted, but generally speaking.”
Helena shook her head, but she couldn’t stop smiling.
“Did you have a nice prom night?” Bertram asked.
“The absolute best. And you? Because unlike me, you have an actual prom to compare it to.”
“Helena,” Bertram said, “there is nothing that compares to being with you. I don’t care if it’s sex or science, no one holds a candle to you.”
“But does anyone hold a candler to me?” Helena asked.
Bertram craned his neck to look Helena directly in the eyes. “Are you making a joke to deflect because you don’t feel the same way?”
“How could you even ask that?” Helena mumbled, blushing. “I felt the same way about you before it even was the same way you felt about me.”
“So, you figured something out before me.” Bertram shrugged. “What else is new?”