Emma lay still. She hadn't been quite wide awake, but conscious enough to feel Liam slide into bed. Her mind perked, knowing full well that he was going to be going through some changes with her present. But she remained calm and kept her breathing even and listened. When he finally turned and pulled her closer, she smiled and let him. His larger body radiated heat like a strong radiator and when he buried his nose against her hair she shivered slightly.
The squeezing tightened and tightened again until she finally squirmed against him, her bottom bumping against his lower belly and hips. "Easy." She whispered softly, "I'm right here, Liam."
She wasn't sure quite what to expect or what to do, but as she wiggled against him, his hold slackened enough to turn. Slowly she wedged her shoulder against his chest and turned, letting out a puff of air. Then his grip tightened again, the pressure so great that she turned once again to face him. Her face pressed against his chest as she slid her own arm around him, her hand sliding over his back and caressing him through his shirt.
"You're not alone," She continued. His great body shuddered against her own and she gave him a bit of a squeeze, wishing she could see his face. Reaching she slid her fingers through his hair, his warm breath fanning against the top of her head and under her ear she could hear his heart beat beating strong and fast. Then the trembling began and Emma tightened her hold, using a little brute force to pull herself up higher against his body. She caressed his short cropped hair, "It's okay. Shh..."
His eyes once closed opened and held hers, looking a little glassy and out of sorts. Her heart went out to him, wishing she could take his pain away. Not the physical ones, but the deep seeded emotional ones that went a lot deeper.
****
Emma was awake, or maybe he squeezed her too tightly and awakened her. Either way, he didn't care. He was holding her. He
needed
to hold her.
She was wriggling in the embrace of his arm. He loosened his grip a little and she rolled to lay flat on her back. He squeezed her more tightly again and finally she rolled fully around to face him. He knew he was squeezing her too tightly, but the pill was starting to affect him. His faculties and any sense of delicateness were disappearing. The Voice was struggling too.
Enjoy it, Hansen. Canoodling with your professor.
Come....to....say....goodbye....have....you.
Fuck her now before she's dead.
Fuck....you.
She brought him back as she had always done recently.
She was pressed against him and her arm was around his body, her hand caressing his back. He could still feel that, thank God. The Palanozol had to get rid of the Voice. If it didn't, he didn't know what he could do.
If you get rid of me you get rid of your edge.
I....can....hardly....hear....you....
Her hand was rubbing through his hair now. It felt good. She felt good. Smelt good. He didn't want to embarrass himself, but there was nothing he could do. He was glad he had come to bed dressed because there would be no mistaking how good he thought she felt. The hard evidence was pressing into her belly.
Hard evidence?
He smiled to himself.
"I'm....sorry...." he said. "Irish."
She even sounded good, better than the Voice.
He thought he was going to burn up. He knew the symptoms of the drug so he was not afraid. It was the same every time. This time was different though, Emma was with him. Usually, he was under the supervision of someone who knew him, like Laura or Bonnie or even Carl had been there before. He hoped he didn't scare her. He hoped....
She hugged him more tightly and pulled herself up along his body until their faces were just apart. He could just see her face in the glow of light provided by the various appliances. He was aware of her breasts pressing into his chest. Of her legs against his. Of their groins together, the heat there making it almost unbearable for him.
He kept looking at her face. Actually, there were three faces, an effect of the drug, but he didn't care.
They were all beautiful.
They were all her.
All Emma.
And she was alive.
He was shaking, he was hot and he was sweating. He gripped her even more tightly and kept staring at her. He could have closed his eyes, but he wanted to keep looking at her.
No point being embarrassed now. She was a woman. Surely she could forgive him being aroused by lying in bed with her, their bodies squeezed tightly together. There was nothing for her to worry about.
Was there?
Her face was so close to his and she looked so beautiful.
The middle one, that must be her face.
He ran his arm along her back and up to the nape of her neck. He pushed her head towards him.
I'll feel which one it is.
He felt her breath on his face and his eyes tried to focus.
"Sorry, Irish," he said breathing a little heavily, "but I have to take my chances....when I....can get them."
He followed the warmth of her breath and leaned his head forward, kissing her lips softly. It felt good, so good.... He pulled back to look at her.
He tried to smile, but he didn't know what his feelings were. He ended up smirking.
"And they say I'm not romantic."
He moved forward and kissed her again.
Fuck it. May as well make the most of it.
****
He was so hot, the heat off of his body rolling over her own and making her own heat, dampening with sweat. But she wouldn't let him go or wiggle away, she told herself. She would be there for him, even if the press of his hard arousal pressed between them felt highly intimate. He was all male, she had to hand him that. Every part of him strong and hard as he squeezed her.
Holding his gaze was easy for Emma. His eyes, even glassy from the drugs were so attractive and then his hand was moving up her body, cupping the back of her head. The cool strands of her hair sifted gently through his fingers as he pulled her closer.
Her heart did a funny little flip, her nerves humming to life. Deep in her belly she warmed, her body reacting to his nearness, tingling until she shivered. And then his lips pressed to hers, his breath warm and good. She let out a little gasp of surprise, but didn't fight him. It felt good, his lips gentle despite his internal struggle.
Then he drew back, a small smirk playing on his lips.
She opened her mouth say something in return, but his mouth came back down and smothered whatever she had to say. She promptly forgot what it was as he stole her breath away. This kiss was a little firmer, his mouth drawing on her fuller bottom lip. She flicked it with her tongue, tentatively kissing him, torn between pulling away and easing the pressure or going for it. It had been many years since the last time she'd kissed a man and to Liam she would probably be considered a virgin compared to the likes of Laura. But she couldn't hold back with him.
Her mouth was soft and pliant, giving as much as he took. Shyly her tongue kept returning, tracing his bottom lip, tugging at it with her teeth and then slowly sliding against his own in a sensual slow dance as she opened up fully for him.
Her body pressed closely, aching as she tightened her hold. Without thinking she slid a thigh over his hips and rocked her hips against his, whimpering softly.
****
He was kissing her and it felt good. Damn good. He knew it would. His reserve was draining away. He was not "drugged" in the true sense of the word. His thought processes were gentler, more caring. He was still adjusting to the drug and his brain was whirling with images. Laura had described it as
rebooting.
He was kissing Emma and she was returning his kiss, offering herself to him as he drew her bottom lip into his mouth. Her tongue was probing his mouth softly, shyly at first and then with added vigor as she seemed to grow more confident and willing.
He gently curled her long, brown hair in his fingers as he pressed her head to him. He looked into her eyes, brown he remembered, but he couldn't see their color in the near darkness of the room. He surprised himself, recalling the color of her eyes.
I must have paid attention.
The fact that he was still fully clothed, coupled with the heat of their bodies pressed together and the effect of the drug, meant that he had a very light sheen of sweat on him. She was beautiful. She wasn't his type of woman or so he thought. But then, what was his type of woman.....? He'd had many women, but now was not the time....
Her leg moved over his thigh and she pressed herself to him with more urgency. She was rocking her hips and making low, whimpering noises.
She only had the t shirt on and he could feel her body through it. If he hadn't left his clothes on, she would be in danger of....
What? She's an adult. If she wants to fuck....
He didn't want to take advantage of her. He knew from experience that people who were scared were more likely to cling to the ones who were protecting them. It heightened all of their senses. He had no doubt that he was more attractive to her because he was helping her, protecting her.
He took his hand from her head, but continued kissing her. He then ran it down her back and to her practically bare ass cheeks. The t shirt had ridden up to her hips, so there was only her underwear between his hand and the smooth skin of her firm buttocks. He pushed her into him, responding with some small bucking of his own.
He rolled over a little, so that his weight was on half of her body. He could feel her breast pressing into his chest. Her leg was around his his and he moved his hand onto her thigh.