Cats In the Cradle

28. Emma

I was overwhelmed.

He was everywhere: inside of me, on top of me, his lips so warm and soft and perfect against my wet folds, his fingers so thick and strong and hitting something inside of me that made me moan and cry and arch my back.

My hands restrained by the handcuffs.

His unrelenting, beautiful hands.

And his full, handsome mouth and his tongue and teeth slowly teasing, sucking, nibbling, and dragging over my slit, dragging me into pure bliss.

It was too much, and I was so overwhelmed.

But then it somehow wasn't nearly enough.

I whimpered as my body surrendered over to the powerful, wonderful spirit that washed over me in waves. His lips worked their way up from between the wet mess between my trembling legs and softly peppered my stomach and chest and neck with light kisses.

I could barely focus as my arms strained against their restraints, and I writhed in beautiful agony; I felt like I'd been given a whole pitcher of the special tea.

He paused for a bit, and I think he asked me again if I was ok.

I honestly wasn't sure. Something was happening to me. Something new. Something terrifying.

Something Orion had never—could never have—prepared me for.

But I nodded.

And he smiled at me, and that strange, scary feeling pulsed within my veins yet again. I didn't want to acknowledge it just yet. I had a feeling of what it might be, but I couldn't put a name to it. Not yet.

And then he gently caressed my cheek, and I think he asked me something else. I tried to focus on his words instead of how overwhelmed I was feeling.

"I-I'm sorry, sir." I choked out. "Wh-what did you say?" I was breathing heavily, fighting to contain my rising emotions.

"I...asked if you're alright. Do you need me to stop? We can take a break before I have to—"

"Please, don't stop. I'm alright." I smiled at him, trying to blink away my tears. Trying to calm down whatever was going on in my chest.

He stared at me, looking concerned and unsure. Then he backed away.

"Ok...just wait a second." He told me before crawling off the bed and walking out the room. My eyes followed his firm, muscular bottom as he retreated down the hallway, and now I wished my hands were free so I could wipe away a traitorous tear that had managed to escape.

He returned shortly with a glass of water and approached me cautiously.

"I'm going to take you out of the handcuffs, ok? I feel like a creep." He winced a little, then used the little key to gently unlock the handcuffs.
My shoulders and arms ached a little, so he waited for me to stretch and roll them a bit before offering me the glass of water.

I took it from him with shaking hands and drank quickly. It did seem to help calm me down just a bit.

Just slightly.

"Why are you crying?" He asked me quietly, sitting next to me on the bed and taking one of my hands in his.

"I'm so sorry, Emma. I know this is such a weird, fucked up situation for us to be in. I cried last night, honestly." He confessed sadly, gazing at me earnestly while his thumb idly brushed back and forth over my hand.

That weird feeling came back again.

"I'm not crying because I'm upset," I told him earnestly, trying desperately to keep my emotions at bay.