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Helena obediently drew a breath into her lungs, unaware that she had stopped a natural process just by being so close to him.

“There are things I will ask you to do,” he continued, his eyes taking a slow inventory of her face. “Things that will make you want to stop and feel shame. Your instinct will be to tell me no, and that is natural. If you can, though, I want you trust me, and push past that instinct.”

He walked back to his chair and lowered himself into his seat.

“With each request, I want you to ask yourself why you want to say no,” he went on, keeping his eyes on her. “If, in the event, you ever feel that it is absolutely right to refuse me, you must tell me.

“Seduction only needs a modicum of willingness to begin, but if there is absolute refusal, there is no pleasure to be found. You will tell me if something I do or request makes you feel such refusal, and I will stop. Imustknow when you want to stop, Helena. Always. Do you understand?”

Helena nodded, his words and voice mesmerizing her into complete stillness.

“Say it,” he commanded.

“I understand,” she breathed, her response immediate.

“I understand,sir”,he corrected her, his tone gruff.

A rush of arousal poured through her as she felt the exchange of power flow through them. She was doing it.

I am actually going to give myself over to his dominance.

“I understand,” she replied, then licked her lips as she added, “sir.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest as a smile of satisfaction slowly spread across his chiseled lips. How could obeying such a simple command cause such an intense rush of happiness?

“Verygood, little Persephone,” he praised, and Helena felt a gush of moisture spread across her thighs as her lower belly tightened.

“Did you like that?” he rasped, his gaze locked on hers. Helena nodded slowly as she felt a tremble pass through her.

“Yes...sir,”she replied.

He relaxed further in his chair, smiling in approval at her response, then spread his legs in a wide stance as he raised two fingers to beckon her.

“Now come. Sit on my lap.”

Helena felt a rush of excitement so intense that her legs felt numb as she moved towards him. As if sensing this, Morgan reached for her waist, his large hands easily engulfing her, and he guided her until she was sitting on his right knee, her legs dangling in the space between his legs and her left shoulder tucked into his chest.

She almost laughed at how small she felt, never realizing how massive of a man Morgan was, but the sound never made it from her lips as she watched him reach for the small pot of dessert that had yet to be eaten. With care, he slid the bottom of the small spoon against the lip of the pot, cleaning its underside, and then raised it to her mouth.

Helena almost said no, unable to imagine eating with her nerves so frazzled, but then she remembered his rules, searched within herself for what she actually wanted to do, and found herself opening her mouth. With care, Morgan slid the small spoon between her lips and over her tongue. He gave her a subtle nod and she closed her mouth around the utensil, letting him move the spoon in such a way that she did not need do anything.

The sweetness of the dessert exploded on her tongue as he pulled the spoon from her lips, and she let out a small whimper as she let it melt there.

“Now swallow,” he mused, the lightest smile touching his lips.

With effort, she did, and — without needing his command — she then opened her mouth once more for another bite.

“I have decided that this is not a gift,” he explained as he took his time feeding her. “I want something from you in return.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

Morgan’s arousal had risen steadily with each obeyed command. He had always relished the moment when he could lose control, but there was something even more pleasurable about practicing self-constraint with Helena. She had been so earnest with her description, and it was so clear that she genuinely wanted such experiences, that he felt his wavering willingness to help her growing into a yearning frenzy.

This would take time and patience. These lessons were not going to be bright explosions of pleasure. What Helena required was a slow, steady ember that had the ability to grow into an eternal flame that would never expire. She was not like the other women who came to him, impatient with need and confused desire. No, she knew precisely what she wanted, and she cared about how she achieved it and from who she obtained it. He greatly admired that about her.

“I do not know what I could offer you,” Helena replied, swallowing her last bite of dessert. “My books, perhaps? I know you do not normally enjoy reading, but perhaps the subject matter might…”

Helena trailed off as he chuckled and drew another spoonful of the potted cream to her lips.