Touched by Lightning (14 page)

“You screamed my name,” he drawled in that deep country accent. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. He must’ve felt it, because his chest vibrated with a silent chuckle. “I like it.” One of his hands went to her hair, sifting through the long, tangled strands before caressing the metal lining her ear. “Why did you stop talking?” he finally asked into the warm, comfortable silence filling the room.

Gyda froze at the question, something she’d been asked before by Estelle and Leo and the shrinks. Even some of the O.T. recruits had asked her that, but she hadn’t even thought about answering. With Brit though, the man who’d heard her speak for the first time in years, she almost felt comfortable enough to explain it. But how could she without sounding weak?

He dipped his chin to brush a kiss across her forehead. “You can trust me, darlin’.”

His words seeped into her soul and found fertile ground to bear fruit because Gyda felt as though she really
could
trust him, that he wouldn’t look at her with pity and disgust. Her heart thundered, her pulse pounding in her ears with the frantic swish of blood racing through her veins as she tried to find the right way to explain her continued silence.

Her gulp was loud in the quiet room, but he was still there, still holding her, comforting her and lending her strength at the same time. And she finally found her voice.

“They liked to hear me scream,” she whispered in a raspy imitation of what she used to sound like. She winced at the rough sound and pressed her fingers to her throat. She lifted her head to look at him, meeting this head on. “Ugly.”

His frown would have made her cringe days before, but she knew he’d never hurt her. “What?”

Gyda cleared her throat, trying to get her destroyed vocal cords to cooperate. “My voice is ugly.” She could almost remember the day when it finally broke, and an eruption of goose bumps covered her skin. The scars on her back burned, the ones that were carved into her as punishment for not following orders. “It’s broken. I’m broken. They broke me.”

Brit’s hand cupped her cheek, his callused thumb brushing her skin with infinite gentleness. “You’re not broken, baby. Just a little tattered around the edges. And your voice isn’t ugly. It shows your bravery. It shows you went through hell and came out the other side stronger than ever.” He leaned down to press a butterfly-soft kiss to her lips. “I love your voice and I love it even more that you shared it with me before anyone else.”

Her eyes stung at his words. It wasn’t bullshit, because his shields were still down, allowing her to feel the truth of his feelings. He was sorry she was hurt, but it wasn’t pity. Her past had brought her here, to this moment and this place. To him. And for the first time since she was kidnapped from that park, Gyda could see how her trials had led her to this. It’d been hell, he hadn’t lied about that. It’d hurt and nearly killed her, but she’d survived. Survived so she could find this man and learn what it was like to care for someone else. To learn gentleness and caring at the hand of a man.

She’d never regret that.

She wanted to cry, wanted to let the tears fall, but she’d trained herself too well not to show weakness, so she kissed him instead. The immediate heat that sparked between them, the way his power leapt into her body at the contact, helped push her sorrow away.

His cock stirred against her stomach as their tongues dueled. Gyda rubbed against him like a cat in heat and was rewarded by his hungry groan. The intense moment between them melted away beneath the need they felt for each other. She squirmed to straddle his hips without breaking the kiss, her pussy, slick and swollen from his earlier administrations, aligned with his cock.

Brit mumbled something into the kiss, but it was lost as she slid onto his dick, seating him deep. Gyda finally broke the connection with his mouth to gasp for air. Even though she’d had him an hour or two before, he still stretched her perfectly. Just the right pinch of pain with pleasure to have her inner muscles quaking from the invasion.

“Gyda,” he growled up at her, his hands coming to her hips. “I’m not wearing a condom.”

Some of her joy at their connection faded and she stared at him blankly.

His face went tight with strain. “I want to be in you just like this with nothing between us, but I didn’t know if you were on the Pill or—”

She slapped her hand over his mouth before he could finish his thought, her stomach clenching with dread. She couldn’t think about that. Not right now, with him inside her and, no she probably wouldn’t be able to think about that later either.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered through the ache in her throat that had nothing to do with pleasure and everything to do with pain.

His eyebrows furrowed at her words and his mouth opened beneath her hand, but she closed her eyes and rocked her hips on him, the slow drag of his shaft along her inner walls sending a thrill through her despite her emotional pain. This was what mattered, this closeness with him, not something that happened years ago and was probably a good thing. If she thought about it the right way, when she thought about it at all.

Gyda did as she always did and buried the pain deep to unleash it later. Now was meant for her and Brit, not for ugliness and horror. But even as she rode him to completion, her body singing with the pleasure only he could seem to bring her, her soul cried.

* * * * *

Gyda was asleep in his arms when Brit heard the vans pull up and everyone pile out. There was happy chatter as the kids talked about the movie they’d been to see, Murphy and Ted’s deeper murmurs as they herded everyone to bed. He should get up and help out seeing as this had been his idea in the first place, but he couldn’t make himself leave Gyda’s side.

Despite the pleasure they’d shared that last time they came together, there had been something very wrong with her. She’d come hard, her hoarse voice crying out his name, but he could’ve sworn there was a deep sorrow hiding behind her eyes when she looked at him. She hadn’t opened up any more after she came, simply curled in his arms and slept.

Looking down at her tousled hair, he wondered just how much grief one woman could hold. His mama used to say God never gave you more than you could handle but he wondered if God overestimated Gyda’s strength. She came across as tough as nails and scrappy, but he’d seen agony in her eyes when he mentioned birth control.

His heart clenched because he didn’t want to think about what might have happened to her. Had she gotten pregnant for one of the men who abused her and lost the child? Been forced to have an abortion? Any number of horrors filled his mind and caused his body to tense with the need to kill someone. He should climb out of bed, go find Murphy and spar with him to release some of the tension riding him, but he didn’t move. Gyda might wake up and notice him gone. She’d been left alone enough as it was. She needed to be surrounded by people who cared, starting with him.

His arm tightened around her, causing her to nestle even closer to him, a soft sigh escaping her lips. The scars on her back, the ones he didn’t need to see to know they were terrible, were like Braille against his fingertips. She’d been careful not to give him a view of her backside, as though used to hiding it, but he could feel them. He traced them carefully, feeling their width and imagined how deep they went. And he hurt for her.

He sucked in a shuddering breath, remembering how she’d looked at him with wide eyes and said
I’m broken
. Brit flung his free arm over his face, his hand clenching into a tight fist at how ineffectual he felt. He couldn’t turn her past off, couldn’t zap it into nonexistence. He was fighting years of abuse and victimization, trying to win over a woman who’d lived in an emotional vacuum she escaped by cutting herself.

She murmured something in her hoarse voice, drawing his attention away from his thoughts back to her. He kissed her forehead and she relaxed into him again. Brit forced his body to go lax, not wanting to wake her up. He wasn’t a quitter. She might have had a shitty life, but he was going to make sure it was nothing but sunshine and fucking rainbows from now on. It would be his life’s mission to make her happy.

But even as he vowed it to himself, his thoughts drifted to the girl who’d missed out on so much because of the sick asswipe who’d stolen her away. If he ever met that man, he’d make damn sure the bastard suffered before he died.

After a night of hot, sweaty sex and more orgasms than she thought a single woman could have, Gyda was way too exhausted to do much more than tremble when Brit touched her. She’d slept harder than she could ever remember, Brit a warm presence beside her. When she woke up, she was cuddled into his side, his arm loose around her shoulders. She’d frozen, stomach twisting into a knot. What was she supposed to do? What if he decided to roll over and pin her down?

Tora thought it was a real possibility. Despite his many skills in bed and streak of honor, the man was just a step above a caveman. It was in the way he’d strained beneath her. The need to take over had practically bled from his every pore. Sure, he’d held himself back, but he was asleep. When he woke up, felt a woman in bed next to him, he’d probably roll over and—

“I have six sisters,” he murmured, his voice causing his chest to vibrate beneath her cheek. “All younger than me. I can tell when a woman is about to freak out.” He didn’t tighten his hold on her, keeping his arm nice and loose, but his thumb stroked her shoulder. “You wanna tell me about it?”

No, not really.

The words caught in her throat. Tora had retreated because she knew Gyda wasn’t ready to make an escape plan yet. Gyda was on her own and she wasn’t sure what the hell to do. What was the protocol for waking up next to a man she’d fucked stupid the night before? Normally if it was one of Sixteen’s one-night stands Gyda woke up next to, she was out of the bed like a shot. This time though, Brit had knocked them both out with the power of the orgasms he’d given her.

“Okay, how about I just talk and you listen?” he asked when she lay there mute, kind of like a log and just as thick. “I’ve been with the O.T. for roughly seven years. I was military before that. Army,” he added as though she’d asked. “Joe had just become the Director and put out the call for Siphons.” His fingers stroked over her skin, the touch almost hypnotic and combined with his easy, relaxed voice, it helped relax her.

“I was hired without having had a single meeting with her and the first time I met her… Well, let’s just say it left an impression.” The chuckle that rumbled in his chest made Gyda slightly envious because if there was anything she inspired in Brit, it wasn’t humor. “She’d called together this thing she named Leader Certification Training Sessions. It’s really just an old-fashioned brawl between the sector leaders, a way for them to blow off steam and to give the troops a little entertainment. I’m sure you’re aware Joe is the only female Sector Leader.” He waited until she gave a tiny nod before he pressed his lips to her forehead and continued. “I walked into the gymnasium where nearly everyone from The Office was waiting for what we thought was some kind of welcome-the-new-director-to-the fold assembly.

“Yeah, that didn’t happen. Joe comes strutting out wearing these bright-pink shorts, a pink t-shirt and high-heeled sneakers.” This time his laugh was a little louder. “No wait, my sis said they’re called platform sneakers. Anyway, she comes strutting out of the locker room looking like a cheerleader, hair in pigtails, and starts bouncing around chattering about how exciting it was to meet everyone, how happy she was to have been chosen as the Director.” Gyda felt a smile creep across her face because she could easily imagine Joe doing that. “She said she was making a lot of plans in the leadership of the Order of Themis, bringing more fun and excitement to the organization.”

He shifted on the mattress, the sheets tightening across his hips where the clear outline of his hard cock showed through the material. Gyda’s eyes caught on that obvious image of his arousal. Her heart picked up the pace, some of the laziness disappearing and that hungry warmth returning.

“The other sector leaders had been in position for years. Experienced supes who’ve been in the field and fought well. But the minute they entered the sparring ring with Joe, she brought them down one by one.” His abs clenched when he laughed again, drawing her attention upward. “Never saw anything as hilarious or entertaining in my life. She wiped the floor with them all while chattering like a magpie, bouncing all around and saying, ‘Omigosh, did I hurt you? Are you okay?’ That day she sealed her position as Director in the eyes of every single member of the O.T. who was present.”

His fingers began to follow the elaborate ink work she’d had done to her biceps. Tattoos and piercings were another way for her to feed the need for pain, but they cost a lot more than her razorblade did, so she didn’t get them often.

“After that day, when we have these ‘Quarterly Leadership Training Sessions’,” he said using air quotes, hand lifting from her skin for a brief moment. “Whenever we have the sessions, we make sure we have it on live feed so other sectors can watch. The betting gets hot and heavy, but not on whether someone will beat Joe. We bet on how long it’ll take her to take everyone else out.” His hand came back to her arm, beginning his journey over her tattoos again.

He was silent for a long time, just touching her. Gyda wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She couldn’t seem to drag her gaze away from the sheet that twitched with his every breath and the hard cock tenting the material. The warmth between her legs grew hotter, wetter.

“This is some amazing artwork,” Brit murmured as his fingers traced the lines of Gyda’s tattooed sleeves.

She shivered beneath the gentle stroke, turning her face into his shoulder. This new intimacy, letting someone touch her without attempting to break their fingers was something she had to adjust to. Tora stirred restlessly in the back of her mind, images of Brit with his fingers bent in the wrong direction dancing in her head. Yeah, Tora considered these touches far too familiar.

But instead of going for his hand the way Tora wanted her to, Gyda shyly touched him in return. His body was a study in contrasts, his skin so satiny smooth, but hard beneath. She traced the mass of tattoos covering his shoulders, arms and chest. His fingers slowed their play the more she caressed his stomach, fascinated by the rippled abs. He had a thin trail of hair that began south of his navel, leading to the erection beneath the sheet. Her heart thundered as she slowly trailed her fingers along that track, delighting in the silky strands.

Brit’s body tensed the closer she got to her goal, but he didn’t try to stop her. Tora waited for him to force her hand where he wanted it. Waited and kept waiting because he stayed perfectly still as she slid her fingers beneath the sheet, her fingertips brushing the slick head of his cock. He sucked in a hissing breath, his stomach growing even tighter.

A thrill of power, heady and addictive, heated her blood like hard liquor. Pushing up to one arm, she leaned over him and pulled the sheet down below his hips. And promptly lost her breath. Brit, naked and aroused first thing in the morning, was perhaps the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. Okay, so she hadn’t seen that many naked men she didn’t instantly want to kill, but the beauty of him, comfortable in his own skin, tattoos vivid against the crisp white of his sheets, was enough to leave her dumbfounded.

Without giving it much thought, Gyda wrapped her fingers around his thick cock and watched a bead of pre-cum wet the tip. Remembering how he tasted, fresh with a hint of salt, her mouth watered, but before she could lower her head to take her taste, he caught her wrist.

She glanced up at him to see him watching her with eyes that glowed slightly, the power building up in his body, causing the fine hairs on her arms to stand up. “I think we can both get what we want if you swing up on over me,” he drawled in the husky voice she’d quickly come to associate with arousal.

If possible, her blood flowed faster, hotter as she imagined what he was talking about, her pussy weeping with desire. Brit must have seen her agreement on her face, because his hands were on her hips, dragging her over his body until she straddled his head. Her cheeks burned, the memory of the last time she’d been in this position hitting her like a freight train. Shyness threatened to drown out her arousal, but then she found herself face-to-dick with the body part she wanted to taste.

Brit let out a growl that vibrated through her, his warm breath wafting across her parted folds. “Damn, you’re already soaked,” he murmured. Another wave of heat rolled up her neck to rest on her cheeks and she was suddenly glad he couldn’t see her face. “So wet and pretty.” His accent was thicker now as his fingers parted even more.

When his tongue danced around her opening, gently, carefully as though he tasted the finest wine, Gyda shuddered. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. He was so good at this, at making her forget how undignified her position was, how intimate an act it was.

His hips bucked, reminding her of what she was supposed to be doing. One of his hands left her pussy to stroke up her back. For a moment she expected him to try to force her head down, to put her mouth on his dick, but he only stroked her, leaving a trail of fire behind. Emboldened by this caress, Gyda wrapped her fingers around him again, loving the way he tensed at the touch.

It only took a dip of her head to put her mouth level with the slick crown of his cock. He wasn’t moving beneath her, his tongue pausing as though he waited to see what she’d do. Remembering how much he’d enjoyed what she’d done the day before, she played her tongue over the plump head of his dick, gathering up the slick cream that tasted of ozone and man and salt.

He groaned, more liquid rising up to meet her mouth, burying his face in her folds. Her hand tightened in response to his sudden move. His hips bucked up, sliding his shaft through her fist. Brit mumbled something against her, the tenor of his voice sending thrills of pleasure through her. Pleasure she accepted and returned by taking his cock into her mouth and gently sucking.

It was as though she’d unleashed a hungry beast. Brit’s mouth attacked her in the most delightful of ways, his lips wrapping around her clit to suckle her. She moaned, taking him into her mouth, bobbing her head on him, taking him steadily deeper until she met her fist that she still had around his base. Back and forth they teased, licking and sucking and nipping, squeezing and stroking. Gyda couldn’t stop moaning and whining around his dick, the pleasure he gave her making her a hot, slick mess. A mess he didn’t seem to mind if the way he pressed his face deeper into her pussy was any indication.

Soon she was rocking on him, on the fingers he gently speared her with as he continued to torture her clit. The wet sounds of her body taking him coupled with her hungry swallows when she took him to the back of her throat were like sensual music to her ears. She was going to come and she knew he was close as well, his cock steadily giving up pearls of pre-cum.

But before she could bring him to completion, he was pulling away from her, gently shifting her hips from either side of his head and slipped out from beneath her. She hit the mattress with a little grunt. Gyda lifted her head, shocked and more than a little pissed off at this abrupt change and as she scrambled to get up from her prone position, she heard the unmistakable crinkle of foil. Springing to her hands and knees, she glared over her shoulder and nearly swallowed her tongue.

Naked and heavily aroused, Brit settled on his knees behind her, his latex-covered cock pointed directly at her. She remembered this position, remembered the humiliation she’d suffered in it and if she hadn’t spent the night with Brit, learning how gentle and sensitive he was to her needs, she would’ve run from the room. But she strangely enough trusted him.

You’re blinded by dick, you idiot.

Tora snarled in her mind, yet it didn’t even make a dent in the hope and pleasure she felt when Brit gently clasped her hips and gave her a soft tug in his direction. She expected him to rise up to meet her, to take her doggy-style, but he didn’t. In fact, he never did what she anticipated he would do, having proved her wrong on so many counts she found herself completely surprised by him. Now was no different.

“I want you to ride me this way,” he murmured. “Want to give you the control you need and me the chance to touch all of you when and where I want.”

Shivering from the low, seductive promise in his voice, she allowed him to position her over his lap, her legs on either side of his. With his hands on her waist, he guided her down onto his cock, the slow, relentless thrust causing her head to fall back in pleasure. Gyda grabbed his wrists, holding on for dear life as he kept pulling her down until her ass rested in the cradle of his hips, seating him to the hilt.

It was so much deeper than before, the depth he reached hitting something inside her that was both painful and pleasurable. She sucked in a shuddering breath, her heart tripping over itself as she tried to adjust to it. But Brit didn’t plan on letting her assimilate to this new position. His hands left her waist to cup her breasts, his fingers plucking at the straining nipples, sending sharp waves of pleasure to her cunt, which tightened around him.

“Ride me,” he whispered, his warm breath teasing the hair at her nape. “Ride me any way you want, but I want you to fuck yourself on me.”

His words made her shiver, the slow grind he gave his hips made her shudder with want. She needed to come, the liquid heat between her legs a fire she needed to put out with his help. Brit let her move at her own pace, slow and tentative at first, her tight channel sliding up and down his cock, every inch of him dragging along her inner walls. He continued to pluck at her nipples, placing a soft, moist kiss on her shoulder or neck now and then, letting her set the tempo.

Sweat began to glisten on her body, little beads of perspiration he licked from her skin, each raspy dab sending another rush of heat through her. It was hot and sexy and slow, a seductive dance they performed together and one that would have rocked her into orgasm if given enough time. But then one of his hands skated down her stomach, his calluses gently scraping her skin until he found the pearl between her legs. Gyda froze, a shock wave of electricity running up her body from her clit. And it wasn’t because Brit gave her some of his power. No, it was the intensity of the touch combined with the smooth friction of their bodies sliding together that set her off. All it took was for him to apply firm, tender pressure to her clit and rub. Twice.