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.
"You...scared me yesterday. And sometimes you still do." He winced again. "But not because of anything you've done to me... You just seem so kind. I...wasn't expecting you to ask me what I wanted. Or for you to be so...sweet to me in bed." I blushed, and he smiled kindly.
He was so handsome and so kind.
"I never wanted to be married...because I saw the way most husbands treated their wives. Like property. Like slaves. Or pets. And I know it's only been a day! But... this entire day has already surpassed my expectations." I smiled at him and felt myself tearing up again.
"I'm really happy to hear that, because I was positive I was completely fucking this up." He murmured. He seemed very relieved and some of his tension left his shoulders.
"So do you want me to keep going? You can rest for a while if you want, but your dad said we—"
"I'm ready. We can keep going."
He studied me for a few seconds, as if he was trying to decide if I really meant it, so I smiled again and nodded my head.
He sat up on his knees and swung his leg over my waist, and my heartbeat accelerated in anticipation. I was still very wet, but still quite sore from yesterday. But I wanted this. We both needed this to happen.
He leaned down and kissed my lips softly, and I swallowed back a moan. His lips pressed down more firmly on mine, and this time the moan refused to be restrained. I kissed him back feverishly, once again aware of how different this felt than when I kissed Orion. How perfect it felt. All of it.
We were kissing heavily, hands fisted in hair and soft moans and heavy breathing echoing throughout the quiet room. His hips grinding on mine as our tongues danced around each other.
And then I felt his long, thick cock prodding against my wet entrance, and I tensed, bracing myself for more pain.
"I'll go slow again." He whispered breathlessly. I squeezed my eyes shut, a bit reluctant to feel pain again after so much overwhelming pleasure. But I nodded. And he kissed me again; a kind distraction as he slowly entered me.
It was still sore. I felt swollen and raw and still too full. It was going to take some getting used to. But I was much wetter than I was last night. He'd used his fingers inside my privates before, and it had prepared me a bit better for the larger intrusion.
And he was fully seated within me, but unmoving. And soon the painful discomfort and ache was replaced by a different discomfort and ache.
I needed him to move. My pussy clenched impatiently, suddenly seeking friction, seeking release. He moaned softly, still holding himself still.
"Are you ok for me to move, love?" He grunted out.
He said it again. "Love."
That strange feeling pulsed within my chest again.
"Yes. Move however you need to." I told him firmly and truthfully. I needed him to. That throbbing was getting worse.
He withdrew slowly and then entered me again just as slowly, dragging his cock against my pulsing inner walls. Every stroke calmed the ache bit by bit and turned the dull pain into mounting pleasure.
His breaths were staggered. I could feel him trembling, and I was sure I was trembling, too, The pleasure was building, but it wasn't enough. I needed more.
"Please go faster, sir," I pleaded, arching my hips to steal more of his warmth, greedily seeking more friction.
His cock pounded harder, and his hand wedged between us to stroke my clit, like he'd done last night. The pleasure was mounting again—so quickly—and it was wonderful, and it was too much. My toes tingled and my legs tightened and my pussy tightened around my husband's length, and he groaned loudly.
"I can tell you're about to cum," He rasped hoarsely, struggling to keep moving his hips.
"Oh fuck. Your pussy is strangling my cock." He moaned, driving his hips inside of me more forcefully.
I shuddered and cried as the spirit overtook my body once again. Daniel moaned loudly, and his hips moved more roughly, sending more waves of pleasure throughout my body.
And then he cried out again, shuddering violently, and I felt a new warmth flood my insides.
His Light.
His glorious, wonderful Light.
He withdrew his cock from my pussy, and I felt some of his Light leaking from within me. I didn't want to waste any of it, so I scooped up the leakage onto my finger and drank it.
Daniels eyes widened, and his softening cock seemed to stir a little. "What the fuck." He whispered under his breath.
"I don't want to waste it." I told him, after swallowing the thick, salty fluid. I could feel myself blushing again as he stared at me strangely again, just like he did last night.
"That was fucking crazy." He told me shakily, still wide-eyed.
He collapsed onto the bed next to me and his large, warm hand found mine.
"You say 'fuck' a lot." I mused quietly, and he laughed.
And we talked.
He asked me about myself, and so then I felt emboldened to ask him questions. And he answered honestly without becoming angry. His voice soothed me, like Orion's had on my first night of training. Only Daniel didn't even need to give me any tea.
And he didn't let go of my hand. And that strange, terrifying feeling kept bubbling up again and again, and it was getting harder to push it down. And I fell asleep still holding his hand, and I was almost certain that it was the most peace I think I'd ever felt or ever would feel.
But when I woke up in the middle of the night, dreamily seeking his warmth and safety...he was gone.