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“And you’re cold as fuck,” I grumble, but our lips brush at that moment, the two of us keeping still while our breaths so easily sync.
It’s these moments of serenity hidden in the shadows that make me yearn for this to be more than “something.” To be a real relationship and a connection we can flaunt to the world without fearing the consequences. Neither of us wants to lose the careers we worked hard to obtain, but how long before we’re completely lost in this thrilling connection that fills the voids within us?
“You’re not the type to stall,” Orpheus quietly states, pulling me out of my worrying thoughts.
Opening my eyes halfway, I’m met with his eyes of dusk that bore into mine. I can only wonder what shade my eyes are reflecting.
Can he see the flickers of anxiety that swim around hints of uncertainty? Or does he see deep within the depths that show a glimmer of sadness that reminds me that we’re at a standstill with this ‘relationship’ of ours?
I can’t find an escape route that leads us to a happy ending, and that’s the most stressful part of it all.
Because I want this.
Want us.
But at what cost?
At the expense of whose life?
The press of lips to mine pulls me out of my spiraling misery, leaving me no choice but to stare into Orpheus’ eyes.
“Stop worrying,” he whispers with that annoyed tone of his.I know he’s not upset with me at all. He’s worried.“We always figure it out. This… won’t be any different.”
He’s right, even though it’s frightening to think otherwise.
Fuck reality.
For now, we’ll have to keep hiding in the shadows until we’re ready to walk together into the rays of light.
“Turn around,” I command, and he sees that I’m back to my commanding self. I’d rather get lost in endless pleasure than think anymore.
That’s exactly what I plan to do.
Moving a step back allows Orpheus to turn around so his back is facing me.
My cock is already twitching as I imagine the few moments I’ve seen Orpheus completely naked. We’ve only actually done that once.
A night where all that mattered was lust and pleasure.
Completely loosening my tie rewards me with silky material that is just enough to cover Orpheus’ eyes as I blindfold him. He tenses up at first, but I lean against him enough to press my warm lips against his chilled flesh.
“You know I’ll never harm you that way,” I reassure him. “I’ll only invite pleasure.”
He relaxes just as I finish tying the knot behind his head. Slipping my hand into my right pocket, I retrieve a pair of earplugs, something I carry around like a hidden habit. I lean over until I can whisper in Orpheus’ ear.
“I’m gonna plug your ears,” I warn him. “No one will hear us.” Only those I allow would hear our panting moans and cries of relief.
Which at this point in our lives and careers is no one unless we’re risking it all to get fired.
“Okay,” he gives me permission with a slight tremble in his voice.
That won’t do.
“Orpheus,” I speak his name as tenderly as I can. “I’ll never hurt or set you up for failure,” I vow. Never intentionally. I love him far too much to do something so cruel.
I understand his reactions, though.
When your parents are sick fuckers desperate for rank and power, you can expect them to do anything to ensure their child is but a puppet part of their sick madness.
