Medical Grade Highs

Her poise, while admirable given the circumstances, was crumbling fast as he closed in on her.

"Orin... What... what are you doing?" she asked quietly, all her barbs gone. He was too close, too close to hide. And Laelia wanted him closer still, pressed against her so tightly she couldn't breathe.

If he had been rougher with her, if he had hit her again like she'd asked, that would have made it easier. But whatever was going through Orin's head, he clearly had no interest in going easy on her.

Against all reason, his hands around her wrists gave her some confused sense of security. Although she was scared, of him and of what he might do, she couldn't ignore how exiting it all was. The fear, the anticipation... It was enough to make her sick, and yet, like an overexcited child at the funfair running to queue up again for the big, stomach-churning roller-coaster, still dizzy from the last ride, she was hungry for more.

Why was he doing this? Just to mock her?

Anger flared up in her eyes and smouldered out just as quickly. All but admitting defeat, she lowered her gaze and turned her head to the side and away from Orin.

There was nearly no space between them now, his chest pressed against hers, the wall against her back. His hand slid down to Laelia's throat, pushing her head back against the wall. He pressed his fingertips just enough into her skin to feel her pulse.

The position was just as dangerous as it was intimate, and fortunately, tonight Orin was leaning more toward intimacy.

For a moment, he held the position, challenging Laelia to make a move against him, but it was too late for that kind of nonsense, and they both knew it. Orin had won this terrible game, and he was going to collect his prize.

Orin kissed her, tightening his hold on her throat at it shifted from something nearly chaste to a greedy, devouring thing. He'd much rather consume her than consider for even one more second that she might leave him, that she had gotten so close doing just that...

There's a second of guilt, the newfound part of him that knows this isn't the right thing to do floating to the surface of his thoughts just long enough to take a breath before he Orin pushed it back down again. He could worry about what the most responsible thing to do in this situation would have been after they both got off.

Of all the feelings this whole day had pulled out of him like a rotten tooth, this somehow felt the worst of all. He didn't deserve a second chance or to see Jason or to even be within a world's distance of this home, but he was here anyway. He'd met his son, and he'd come face to face with the world he'd never truly have and didn't really want but was now a part of...if not for the one small detail that was his unfortunately good genetics.

Laelia licked her lips, one of her hands exploring Orin's chest. Her other grabbed his jaw, almost tenderly, a light laugh falling from her lips. "Not just a pretty face, huh?" The rest of him wasn't half bad either.

She rolled her hips against Orin, giving both of them some eagerly anticipated friction. For the moment, she was still tucked, but she was already itching to get rid of the last layers separating them.

"Your heart's beating so fast. Am I making you nervous?" she teased before leaning in to kiss him again, more sweetly this time.

"And I haven't even thanked you for the first ride," she muttered, reaching down into his briefs to give his cock a slow stroke. "Thank you."

Caught up in the moment, she turned her attention to his neck, her affections growing bolder, sharp teeth making their mark on soft, pale skin.

What kind of black magic was she working with here? A woman was taking charge of things, and he wasn't just tolerating it. He was loving it!

"You want me to beg? Fine. Please, spare me your bullshit."

For all her repartee, she still hesitated when Orin drew the necessary conclusion from her words before she did. Of course she was leaving. She had to leave. She knew exactly what would happen if she stayed, and it would be her own fault for teaching Orin that he could treat her any way he wanted without consequence.

But... was she leaving him? Could she leave him when they weren't even really together?

Her already hazardous train of thought was completely derailed by Orin's movement toward her. Instinctively, Laelia shrank back, but she didn't make it very far with her back against the wall.

Even if he wasn't hurting her or holding her down, having him this close made it that much harder to think.

If Orin cared to look, he might see something more in her eyes than fear and anger. A look he should be more than familiar with by now. The way her gaze dropped to his mouth as she licked her lips... Laelia appeared almost flustered.

And perhaps, for a moment, she was fantasising about Orin pinning her to the wall and kissing her, his big hand around her throat... But before she could lose herself too much, Orin opened his mouth.

One thing? One thing?! Laelia knew better than that. Orin himself had told her so. And he still hadn't apologised. Not that it really mattered. An apology was almost as worthless as a promise. This wasn't a slip-up; this was Orin showing her who he was when he was angry.

What was she giving up on? A guy who hit her? She was sure she'd get over it. But it was the last thing he said that really got to her, as he had no doubt intended.

Laelia glared at him and raised her arms to try and push him away or at least keep him at a distance.

Hitting her had started this whole thing, and his words had only made it worse (to the surprise of no one, Orin included). He considered for no more than half a moment that the wise and right thing to do would be let her walk away. That would be the healthiest thing to do for both of them...but he knew himself, and he knew her...healthy decisions weren't either of their specialties.

Orin grabbed Laelia's wrist, not so tight to hurt but with enough force to keep her from actually pushing him. He could have overpowered her if he really wanted to, but it would be so much more satisfying to see her give into worst habits without him needing to twist her arm, either metaphorically or physically.

"No, I'm not doing that."

He moved a step closer, leaving even less room between them and between Laelia and the wall. There was still room for her to move away if she wanted to, and if Orin let go of her, but it was going to be a tight squeeze with Orin planting his feet firmly on the ground. A quiet voice in the back of his mind wondered if he would really let her go if it came to that, but even more loudly he hoped he wouldn't have to make that decision.

Upon realizing that his own voice had sharply risen in volume with that response, he quickly lowered it again the next time he spoke, not wanting to potentially open a door for confrontation. "...I-I was just asking. A-and I can get you a-any color ribbon you want. Red, green, blue, purple..."

But for whatever reason, he thought better of it, the switchblade in his back pocket staying holstered for the foreseeable future...which for Orin was a couple minutes at most. Predicting what he'd do any further out than that was simply impossible.

○○○○○ | ATTRACTION ○○○○○ | AFFECTION ○○○○○ | INTEREST ○○○○○ | LOYALTY ○○○○○ | TRUST

When Orin's shirt came off, she didn't wait for an invitation to have a feel of his bare chest, running her nails down his back... It was intoxicating to have him so close, to feel how much he wanted her.

Feeling him reach for her zipper made her heart beat faster, her breath come quicker. For a moment, Laelia considered stopping him. For all her apparent confidence, nakedness came with a special kind of vulnerability, and Laelia had no intention of being any more vulnerable with Orin than strictly necessary. But, aided by the 'romantic lighting', she quickly decided she wanted him to keep going, to feel his hands on her bare skin. Their clothes were in the way, so it was only logical that she let him help her out of her dress, casting off the tight fabric and letting it drop to the floor.

Naked safe for her panties, garter belt, stockings, and heels, she pushed Orin down onto the bed.

He'd only just barely kicked his jeans to then side when he was forced down onto the bed, the needy kiss broken. Orin was too caught off guard to have an immediate reaction, staring up at Laelia from his newfound position. The view, of course, was hardly unwelcome, and he shoved the surprise off his face and replaced it with awe. He raked his gaze over her body, lips parting as he did so, his tongue dangerously close to lolling out of his mouth like a wolf's.

There wasn't one part of her he didn't immediately want to mark up with his hands and his mouth, already fantasizing about fingertip shaped bruises and red marks where his teeth had dug in painted across her tits.

"Yeah, I had a feeling you've been wanting to look down on me," Orin replied, his heart feeling like it might beat out of his chest as Laelia positioned herself above him. He placed his hands on her hips, attempting to pull her down more onto him, wanting to grind himself between her legs...feel what she'd so cleverly hidden beneath her dress, and of course, let her feel what he was working with in return.

A fair exchange if you asked him.

"It's not really my thing," Sloan mocks. "Buddy, you wanna give yourself sepsis? You wanna fuckin' die because you don' wanna ask for help? Get over yourself."

But unfortunately, she suddenly wasn’t so sure about all of this as the tension in the room snapped abruptly. She knew what Seymour had said was unkind – and she was rather disappointed with her husband – and she did understand Orin’s reaction, but his anger still made her adrenaline spike. She rose rapidly and scooped up Jason into her arms, holding him close both as an anchor for herself and to keep him calm. She stood at the end of the table, across from Seymour and Orin. In an instant, she felt like she had lost all her power, her voice stuck. Orin’s words confused her, and certainly had their familiar sting. It seemed so calculated, and the look on Seymour’s face suggested that it had struck a particular nerve. 

It was clear he hadn't told her. Hadn't explained to her why Orin had been so quick to back off or why he'd kept his distance for as long as he had. It was written across Audrey's face as Orin shot her a look, but in doing so he also so Jason, so quickly taken from him...comfortable and safe in his mother's arms. It did nothing to quell his anger, but now there was a sharp edge of sadness in the mix that made Orin wince. Jason was his son, but he wasn't his father...not really. This home wasn't his. The town, the street, the lawn...none of it was his except for this one mark he'd left on it.

Did he really want to leave another mark by saying all that had happened? About that appointment? It would have been so satisfying take a sledgehammer to the foundation of this home, to reveal Audrey's diminutive prince charming for what he was. A selfish, opportunistic, liar...as far as Orin was concerned anyway. But as Jason stirred unhappily, Orin knew he couldn't do that. Certainly not for Seymour's sake but for his son's. As much as he hated it, his son's life was settled firmly atop that same foundation.