Protecting Helena

by Cordelia Gregory

  He’d done his best to shut down picking up another’s feelings and blocking visions he occasionally encountered while with a person but for some reason Lennox was provoking more than he cared to feel and see. Mark made an effort to distract himself and spark a conversation with the seductive wife of another of his mother’s friends who had been sat next to him. But Lennox still managed to draw his attention, and he found himself staring at the man. Sometimes he could not block his gift of seeing. It overwhelmed him and forced him to connect.

  The moment his mental block and distraction were squashed, Lennox was laid bare to him. Bernard Lennox wasn’t just Helena Wright’s superior; he was her real father and Helena didn’t know despite her gift. The man was terrified for her and was ready to do anything to protect her. Mark couldn’t help but admire him. He would feel the same way. It made his anger at the man’s request soften.

  But the image of his dead sister’s body intruded on his thoughts. A psychic deliberately fed her false information on the location of a high-profile missing person who’d been kidnapped by the notorious Drydon gang on the behalf of a corrupt senior police officer determined to extort a heavy ransom. When she attended the location with her other police colleagues, she found the place rigged with explosives. It was too late to get out. Mark found her body. He would never trust psychics again, even though he was one himself. They held too much power over a person.

  His anger returned, but Mark successfully diverted his attention and put Lennox and Helena Wright to the back of his mind. That was until later in the evening, when he could no longer fight the intrusive feelings threatening to consume him if he did not allow them to present themselves and tell him what he needed to know.

  When dinner had finished, the group retired to the large drawing room overlooking the rear of the 15th century Grace View Abbey and the rolling green lawns that swept downwards from the formal garden and patio towards the lake. The evening sunlight poured in from the patio doors that had been thrown wide open on the warm summer’s night and the fountain in the middle was playing softly. Mark sat down on one of the red leather armchairs stealing a moment to himself while his mother and a couple of guests found something to play on the grand piano in the corner of the long room. Once more, his eyes drifted towards Lennox standing at the large open Tudor fireplace chatting to another guest.

  Mark took another sip of his brandy feeling annoyed at himself for not being able to keep his concentration in check and keep the man and his feelings at bay. But Lennox’s constant anxiety for his daughter was filling the room and consuming him. When Mark looked up again, he found himself staring at the opposite wall on which a Flemish tapestry was hung. He sat up straighter noticing the room was beginning to change and shape into something else. He’d experienced many visions throughout his life that he had kept quiet, often using them to help in his work as a Protection Officer, but they usually appeared in the confines of his mind and not physically in the external world. The transparent figure of a tall man, around his own height, began to form as the room changed into his own bedroom. The transparent form changed into a black and white image before slowly warming into flesh coloured. It was him and he now carried something over his shoulder—a woman.

  Mark studied himself in the vision. He still bore the same short dark-brown hair neatly styled, his smooth skin was lightly tanned, his blue eyes vivid and his form lean and athletic. So, if this was a vision of the future it wasn’t distant and more than likely to be within the next few days or week. It was odd watching himself, but he couldn’t help but be fascinated to see what he was about to do with the woman he was carrying into his bedroom and he continued to view the glimpse of the future undetected.

  The woman had a sexy, small, curvy shape. Just his type. She had a shapely behind and his hands itched to skim its surface, testing and feeling each cheek’s weight and finishing with a gentle slap to make her flesh quiver. His future self bore an annoyed look on his face and he meant business with the woman. Clearly, he meant to discipline her. There was no other explanation for him acting the caveman and carrying her to his room. The notion made Mark grin and cover it by taking another sip of his brandy to hide it from the others in the drawing room.

  The woman was kicking the toes of her black, patent leather Louboutin heels against his body and beating her small fists across his back as his future self turned, with her still over his shoulder, to lock the door behind him. The vision began to play out.

  “If you are going to start acting like a child, then I am going to treat you like one until you fully accept I am in control here,” he told the woman in a stern fatherly tone.

  Mark raised one eyebrow listening to the way the words were delivered and the seriousness of his tone. It didn’t feel like they were role-playing, it was real, and every word was meant. Mark couldn’t help but glance around the drawing room wondering if anyone else could see his vision, but everyone appeared to be occupied by talking or watching his mother play the piano.

  He sat back in the chair, cradling his brandy in his hand and continued to watch with interest. The woman kicked him hard, narrowly missing his crotch area and prompting him to swift action. Without hesitation, he raised his hand and slapped her clothed bottom hard. The woman yelped.

  “That hurt,” she said, retaliating by kicking him again and making him wince. She sounded fragile and soft even though her anger was fierce. There were tears threatening to break in her voice, yet Mark could also hear a stubborn strength that greatly intrigued him.

  “Good. So, will this,” he said firmly slapping her bottom once more. She yelped louder this time and started kicking at him like a crazy woman.

  “Let me go. Put me down.”

  Mark winced again from another sharp kick.

  “That’s enough,” he ordered, lowering her from his shoulder in one fluid movement to throw her onto the bed. With a startled shriek, she landed softly on the four-poster bed amid the grey silk sheets and pillows.

  Mark watched his future incarnation take hold of the woman’s ankles and drag her down the bed. When she tried to sit up, he pounced onto the bed and straddled her to hold her wrists above her head with one hand while he slipped his other gently around her throat to pin her down.

  “Enough,” he ordered while she squirmed underneath him making him tighten the hold he’d placed around her throat a little more. It did the trick and she ceased struggling.

  Still viewing his vision of himself, Mark stood from his chair and moved closer so he could take a better look at the woman. She had long, dark, chestnut colored hair styled in a smooth mid-length bob. Her eyes were a vivid shade of emerald green and with her pale skin made a beautiful combination. She was older than he, at least five, maybe six years. Just as he had always preferred in a woman. Dominating an older woman was far more exciting than ruling a younger less experienced woman. The latter was too easy.

  “I thought you were supposed to be protecting me not hurting me,” she demanded in a breathless voice.

  He relaxed his grip on her throat a little after seeing a small amount of fear in her eyes permeate her stubborn stance.

  “That is exactly what I am trying to do. Why do you keep disobeying me and getting in my way?” he asked calmly.

  “Disobey you? I don’t take orders from you.”

  “When I give you an instruction as your Protection Officer, I expect you to damn well obey it without question. You nearly got yourself killed today. I am tired of your games, Helena.”

  Helena Wright? It had to be, but he’d refused to protect her. Looked like fate was going to push them together anyway.

  “Whether you like it or not you can’t play the independent woman here. Project Orma has put your life in danger, and you need my help to preserve it, you stubborn woman.”

  “How dare you speak to me like that! I am in charge here. I can look after myself. I told Lennox I didn’t want a Protection Officer. I have always looked after myself. I’ve never needed anyone else
and I don’t need you to help me now. Let me go.”

  She gave a growl and fought him hard to release herself from his grip on the bed.

  In his present form, Mark stood by the bed. He grinned and took another sip of his brandy knowing exactly what kind of response she would receive for her outburst.

  “I can see words are going to have no impact here so I will try another way of getting through to you.”

  Still holding Helena’s throat, Mark took hold of the front of her black summer dress and pulled it down her shoulders to expose her black lace bra.

  “What are you doing? Don’t touch me.”

  “Stripping you naked so I can give you a bare bottom spanking,” he said, humour lining his firm tone. “By God, do you need one. Maybe then you will calm down and do as you are told.”

  “What? You can’t do that.”

  “Yes, I can.”

  “Help. Help!” she started to shout.

  “Hush. No one is going to come running to your aid and if you think about running to Lennox or anyone else, forget it. I was given carte blanche to use whatever means necessary to make you capitulate to keep you safe. So, little one, start getting used to me being in control of your life for a long time to come.”

  With one hand, he expertly pulled the stretchy dress down her body to her legs, briefly letting go of her throat to pull it over her shoes and toss it to the floor sweeping his appreciative gaze over her large plump breasts and curves. By now she was sitting up and attempting to get off the bed, but he was on her quickly, pushing her back down. He robustly forced her to turn on her front and pulled her lacy panties down over her rounded rump to just below her thighs.

  He placed one hand on her back pinning her down on the bed while she squealed and kicked. Sitting at her side, he raised his large palm and delivered the first of many hard slaps to her bare bottom.

  “I have taken enough of your disobedience and attitude, Helena. This is where I teach you a lesson and it stops,” he informed her while watching her delicious bottom jump, lift and quiver with each punishing strike.

  “You can’t spank me like a child, I am a grown woman!” There was a sob in Helena’s voice while she panted and cried out as the slaps rained down on her butt one after the other.

  “Yes, I can.”

  He varied the intensity and tempo of the strikes searching for flesh unblemished by the brand of his hand. She was sobbing uncontrollably now, and her struggles were losing power. He had her just where he wanted her.

  “From now on, Helena I will treat you like the child you undoubtedly are under all that stubborn, reckless, independent, wilful bravado. You will allow me to protect you effectively or I will spank you every time you disobey my orders.”

  “Stop acting like you are my father. I never had a father. I never knew him.”

  Her cries became louder and he knew her release of emotion was no longer due to her spanking but from a deep-seated pain from her childhood. He moved her spanking from her butt to the tender backs of her thighs just underneath the delicate curve of her rump to colour them the same shade of rosy red. Her crying overwhelmed her.

  That’s right, baby, get all that pain out.

  “Helena, you have to learn to trust people again and allow me to take care of you. It starts here. If I have to act like a father and take you in hand, then that is what I will do. It is what you need,” he told her softly before slapping the back of her thighs hard one more time.

  Chapter 3

  Mark could see the future version of himself rubbing Helena’s back as she continued to cry and release her pent-up emotion. He was on dangerous ground here. If he got too close to the woman, he feared he would lose focus and not be able to protect her as well as he would like. He stood next to the image of the bed leaning over her. She was too tempting, so fragile and delicate with her beautiful plump red bottom burning hot. He reached over to stroke his fingers over her rump in the image and was surprised when his fingers actually made contact with her hot flesh. Her bottom was sizzling hot and no doubt stinging appropriately.

  In the future, Mark appeared to be making the same calculation as he was doing in the present and had come to the same conclusion. He suddenly cupped the middle of her rump and gently lifted it, smoothing his thumb over her hot pink skin to soothe and calm the sting.

  “Shh, little one. I will take care of you,” he told her in a velvet whisper.

  He turned her over and cradled her in his arms like a baby. She was still crying. Mascara ran down her delicate cheeks encouraging him to hold her closer and rock her back and forth like a child, allowing her to clutch at his dark grey suit jacket and shirt as though her life depended upon it.

  Stroking his fingers through her hair and giving her a gentle kiss on top of her head did not console her. But when he inserted his thumb into her mouth as though it were a baby’s dummy and gently pulsed it in and out, her trembling and racking sobs ceased.

  “That’s a good girl. I will protect you. Suck, little one. It will help you,” he instructed probing his thumb further into her mouth and keeping it there. He smiled when he heard gentle sucking noises.

  Mark from the present watched the scene, enthralled. He had yearned for a woman he could baby and take care of. Was Helena Wright actually that woman?

  Helena became still in his arms simply enjoying the soothing sucking of his thumb. After a while Mark removed his thumb, smiling at the little whimper of loss she gave when he did so. He pulled her panties down and off her legs briefly glancing at her neatly shaved pussy and was clearly surprised when she did not give him any resistance only blushing with being so exposed. She watched him with wide eyes while he made her sit so he could remove her bra.

  In the present, Mark felt himself harden. She was beautiful, all that he had desired in a woman. Helena’s breasts bobbed free but neither version of Mark attempted to caress or touch them.

  “This is about taking care of you,” future Mark told Helena tucking his fingers underneath her chin to raise her face up to him. “It is time to put you to bed, feed you and let you rest. Stay here for a moment.”

  He picked up the landline and called the kitchen staff down stairs.

  “Can you please bring me some milk, warmed and contained in the usual way for my guest. Thank you.”

  It was code for the kitchen staff. They knew exactly what he wanted them to bring. It had been a long time since Mark had prepared to feed a beautiful woman like a babe in his arms with a bottle of baby milk.

  He helped Helena to stand. She was still quiet, viewing him with interest but she looked tired and exhausted as though she hadn’t been sleeping or eating for a while. She was coyly trying to hide her nakedness in vain, but it seemed too much of an effort at times and she appeared resigned to being told what to do.

  Mark fluffed up the large pillows on the bed and turned down the sheets. He returned to Helena and lifted her up in his arms with ease. He deposited her in the bed, satisfied when she sank her head back in the pillows and found comfort. He covered her with the sheet and stroked her hair away from her face.

  “Well done. I want you to go straight to sleep after you have been fed. I will stay with you.”

  “I haven’t been able to sleep or eat properly for a while. I will just try to rest,” she told him timidly.

  “Relax. I guarantee you will sleep once you’re fed. I will get you back on track so we can fight this thing together. You are not alone anymore, Helena. I will protect you,” he spoke softly but there was command in his tone showing his determination to help her and a warning she wouldn’t be able to push him away anymore.

  He sat on the bed next to her, hushing her with his gentle caressing touch across her brow until her milk arrived. He took it from the butler at the door and gave the bottle a shake. Then he tipped a little of the liquid out on the back of his hand to test it wasn’t too hot. It was the perfect temperature and would have Helena falling to sleep in no time.

  Mark watched his
future self walk around the bed and climb onto it. He moved the pillows to support himself as he reached to pull Helena towards his chest and into his arms. Cradling her like a babe, he felt some small resistance when she attempted to pull away after she got a closer look at the bottle. She looked up at him with frightened eyes.

  “It is time for your milk, baby girl. You need something to help you sleep and this way I can make sure you drink it.”

  “But I am not a baby. You can’t feed me like one.”

  She tried to move away from him again and get out of the bed, but he caught her wrist and pulled her back towards his chest. She gave a small whimper.

  “I can and I will. Now, let me feed you or do you want another spanking?”

  In the present, Mark leaned over her on the bed approving of his future action. The woman needed to be taken in hand whether she liked it or not.

  His future self trailed his fingers over her cheek and spoke in a low whisper, “Come on, baby girl, realise I am in charge now and do as you are told for your own good.”

  Helena lowered her eyes and softened her features once more.

  “No, I can’t. I am sorry but I am not used to people taking care of me. I have always been on my own and doing it myself. I don’t know why but you make me feel safe. Even this…” she gestured at the bottle. “It makes me feel safe. Why would it?”

  “Don’t question what I am doing. Just understand that you need it and embrace your wants. You are out of balance at the moment. Giving you baby care will help calm your mind, make you feel safe and, in turn, you will be able to do your work much better and help those you need to.”

  She nodded and relaxed her tense body in his arms.

  “Good girl, now open your mouth, little one.”

  Mark pushed the rubber teat of the bottle against her lips and slipped it inside her mouth the moment she parted her lips, giving her no more room for hesitation.