tagRomanceShackled Ch. 11

Shackled Ch. 11


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.


Fuck her now before she's dead.


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.


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.

He paused from kissing her for a moment.

"I'm....not... sure....I'm in....such....good....nick....for....this....Irish," he said.

But he continued to hold her and rock his hips. His jeans and underwear felt very tight now as he became harder.

I hope this is the right thing.

But he continued kissing her, pushing his tongue further into her warm mouth and driving his groin into her.

Hard to go back from here....


She clung to him, even as he rolled and pressed his weight into her, his body solid and hot. She could feel the sweat of his body dampening his shirt, making it cling. Her fingers tugged at the material, wanting it off. Wanting bare flesh under her eager hands.

As he pressed and rubbed against her own tilting hips, she gasped and whimpered against his mouth. He swallowed the sweet noises as their mouths clung. His large hands kept on caressing the full tightness of her bottom. In turn, she pulled her thigh up higher, hooking her leg more firmly around as they ground together, dry humping like worked up teenagers. The rough texture of his pants was rubbing her all too sweetly and pretty soon she was having a hard time thinking all together.

"Liam." She whimpered, her body pulsing as heat spread through her core.

She knew it had to be bad...but it felt so good. But he was under the influence of drugs. What if he resented them doing this in once it wore off. What if she couldn't look him straight in the eyes anymore because she was taking advantage of his weakness. What if he truly didn't want her?

His words seemed to cool her a little and she forced herself to relax, pulling her mouth away to suck in a long deep breath. His face dropped lower to her neck and she bucked under him, her fingers curling into the material of his shirt as she let out a yelp and shuddered under him as her nipples tightened painfully. "Oh!" Her voice hit the side of his ear, loud and clear, followed by a delicious little whimper.

Stopping was easier said than done. Her panties were embarrassingly wet. Never in her life had she felt so on fire! Her fingers tugged worked until she'd bunched up his shirt around his shoulder and kept on pulling. "For the love, Liam, take it off!"


He felt like he was going to explode. He was hot. He was sweaty.

And he was now as aroused as any man could be.

I'm supposed to be protecting you.

The Voice had gone, but now his mind was jumping around, the faces of different women coming into his mind for seconds and then being replaced by others. It was the risk with the drug. His mind would recall similar incidents of the same emotional tenor to whatever he was experiencing at the time. That was why he always needed supervision and why he couldn't do anything for twelve hours as the drug took effect. If he was fighting, he would recall old missions and the results could be catastrophic. It could affect whatever he was doing either negatively or positively, depending on the previous experiences he'd had. It was reconstructing the memory of such experiences so as to shape his future behavior. He thought again of Laura's rebooting analogy just as she popped into his head.

He tried to focus on Emma and she started to steady in his mind. There were a few more flicks of his mental Rolodex, but ultimately it was Emma's face that both his eyes and his mind could focus on.

Just as well, I'm dry humping her like a dog on a football.

His mind cleared a little when she yelped in his ear.

For a moment, he thought he'd hurt her somehow with his weight on her, but it didn't sound like pain. It may have been pain, but it was pain borne of pleasure. She was making small whimpering noises now and nuzzling him.

If I keep this up, I'll have to go through with it.

He smirked to himself.

A man's gotta do, what....

He genuinely didn't know if he had the strength or if his mind would allow him to make love to her, but the heat between his legs wouldn't leave him now. The only way to relieve the pressure of his desire, of his lust was to take her the way she wanted to be taken.

His shirt was bunched in her fists and she was pulling it up his belly, over his chest and then she stopped at his shoulders. She was having a problem getting it off with his weight on her.

Here goes. This is it. The protector becomes the hunter....

He couldn't help, but use some humor to relieve some of his tension, both physical and emotional.

"Need a little help there, Irish?" he said. He was feeling better. The focus on their sexual excitement meant that his brain was thinking of only one thing: fucking Emma. It probably wasn't sustainable in the long term, but for now it would do.

Pleasantly enough.

He rolled off her and onto his back. He then sat up as if doing a sit up and pulled the t shirt up and over his head and threw it on the floor. She was a lot smaller than he was, so he was easily able to put an arm under her and scoop her up so that she was now lying on top of him. He then ran his hands slowly along her thighs, up over her ass cheeks and hips and along her ribcage until he finally got to the bottom of her t shirt which had ridden up to just below her breasts.

Again, he sat up and felt his muscles ripple under her belly. He gripped the shirt and then pulled it up over her head and shoulders and threw that on the ground as well.

She was now lying on top of him, bare belly to bare belly. It did little to help him with his erection. He was harder than he'd been the whole night. He still had his jeans on and she still had her panties on. He put his arms around her and squeezed her into him and raised his head to kiss her. She was so small and light that he hardly felt her and his embrace felt like it was going to crush her.

As he kissed her, he ran his hand down her back and to the top of her panties. He slowly began to pull them down. He wanted this badly now, like nothing that he'd wanted for a long time.

I think I'm going to fuck the professor.

I'd better get an A....


Emma loved the taste of him. His kisses seemed to drown everything else out until in the end it was just him and her. Skin on skin, mostly, finally. He felt so good, so solid that it was hard to imagine that at that point he wasn't exactly in the best of conditions.

His touch as making her rub against him, her small hands sliding against the hot skin of his shoulders and sides, caressing whatever bits of skin she could get to that wasn't pressed to her front as their tongues dueled. She curled hers around his, then flicked the roof on his mouth and nipped at his lips.

Big hands began to tug at her panties just as she slid her mouth over his chin and pressed kisses along his jaw line, dipping low to taste the slight saltiness of his skin before she nipped at his earlobe. She wasn't Laura, she wasn't smooth and experienced. She wasn't drop dead gorgeous. She actually surprised herself for getting naked and not being a complete mess about it. But he wasn't letting shyness take hold, instead driving her need further as those clever fingers dipped down the edges of her panties and squeezed her bare bottom.

From her position, straddled over his thighs and pressed against him, there was no way those panties were coming down. She smiled against his skin as he tugged and pushed and got nowhere. It struck her as amusing, through the haze of passion.

"Need a little help there, Liam?" She quipped breathlessly, smiling sweetly as she pressed her lips to his again, drowning whatever response he could have. Her hips kept rocking, rubbing against the roughness of his fly which was hitting her clit just right way through her panties and making her shiver. Moaning, she sucked in her already flat tummy and pulled her middle up every so slightly, even to drive her hands between them as she began to pop the button of his pants.

She should have been shy, but as the button gave, she slowly sat up, panting softly, her lips moist swollen from their kisses. All pretty and pale with her long hair drifting over her shoulders, she sat on his thighs and with trembling fingers began to unzip him jeans, the rasp of metal and on metal almost deafening. This was it. The panties came off after this and there would be no turning back.


It was easy.

Making love to her.

Her mouth covered his and her tongue was probing, looking for more of him. She was hungry for him and it was just as well because both of them needed to satisfied. His mind was well and truly focused on her alone. Maybe Emma had done him a favor. The workings of his mind under the drug could proceed in the background because he had something that needed immediate attention.


He could feel her soft hands sliding over his body, her touch making him harder and wanting her more. If their kisses grew anymore passionate, they would devour each other. She was lightly pulling on his bottom lip with her teeth.

Damn those panties. He wanted them off. Now.

She was kissing his face, running her lips onto his chin and then along his jaw, moving back to his ear. His fumbling with her underwear had at least got him to the stage where he could hold her smooth butt checks in his hands. He could almost hold a whole cheek in one of his hands, but he wanted....


Her playful teasing was breathy.

Touche, he thought. It only made him hornier that at this moment she could share his sense of humor. The rocking of her hips was driving him mad. He wanted to pound her. Use her. She was nothing like he'd met before and he wanted to release himself into her.

Careful, buddy. This is no one night fuck....

She sucked in her stomach and reached her hand down between them. Her hand found the button of his jeans and she opened it. He drew in his breath. Her hand felt good on the skin of his lower belly. Its coolness only made him want it more, wanted her hand to go lower, to take hold of him.

She slid back slightly and sat up so that she was sitting on his thighs with her legs folded beneath her. In the dim green light he could see her pale nakedness. Her breasts. Her hair trailing down over her shoulders. Beautifully disheveled.

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