Brain

by Candace Blevins

  The next day she boarded a cruise ship in Odessa, headed to Barcelona, Spain, where she rented a car and drove for half a day to one of her many storage lockers, this one outside Madrid. She’d once told me she has emergency stashes all over the U.S., and enough in Europe so she’s never more than a long day’s drive from one.

  Ice had written everything factually, with no emotions, but my heart broke for her as I read it.

  And my wolf wanted to go find the men responsible and tear them to pieces.

  I proxied through a few servers before researching Grigoriy Ivankov, and my heart went cold as I read of the things he was known for. This man had hurt her bad — worse than her icy, emotionless retelling of the events could possibly convey.

  I was still researching the men who’d hurt her when Ice came into the living room and asked, “You’ve been up all night?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Enough to read through it twice, and research the people responsible for the worst of it.”

  “You stayed hidden?” No panic, just plans for how quickly she could get out of Atlanta if I’d been careless.

  “Of course. As far as they know, I was in a Russian coffee shop, proxying through a Caribbean corporation.” I took a breath, stood and walked to her, and brushed her hair away from her face. “You’re the strongest person I know, and the smartest.” I gave her a mischievous grin and added, “Well, except for me on the smarter part, of course.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned away from me to walk towards the kitchen area. “In your dreams are you smarter than me.”

  “I understand why you aren’t willing to travel to the Ukraine and Russia for revenge. It looks like Ivankov’s son was going to University in the States when it came out he was turning evidence to the DOJ on his father’s friends, and he disappeared.”

  She turned and looked at me, her expression granite. “He has three sons and a daughter. His oldest son was put through similar tortures as I went through, minus the sexual assaults, from the American version of Ivankov. His son never gave up his supposed DOJ contacts, and I understand he didn’t survive the torture.”

  “He didn’t give them up because they didn’t exist, did they?”

  “No, but he wasn’t an innocent. I chose him instead of his siblings because I had proof he was already in the family business. When I’d received word he was dead, I let Ivankov know I was responsible, and told him if I heard he or his organization was ever after me again, I’d put a bullet in the head of his other children, one by one.”

  “Would you?”

  She shrugged. “His daughter is married to one of the head guys of the Georgian Mafia. I’d have no regrets fucking up both her and her husband’s life.”

  She held my gaze through a dozen breaths, and I smelled anxiety, but no fear. I’d known she was hard, known she’d do whatever it took to survive. She didn’t carry a gun, but I’d paid attention to the taser, and I’d found the hidden button and had a feeling it would push enough juice into a body to kill, not just stun.

  “Okay, Buttercup. You ever decide to go after them, I hope you’ll let me help, or at least have your back.”

  She shook her head, not agreeing, though she didn’t deny me out loud. “I have a few hours to chill out. You’re probably going to want to go to sleep, soon.”

  “What time are you meeting Harmony?”

  “She’ll let me know when the movers are gone, and I’ll go to the house tonight.”

  “So we have the day together?”

  “Yeah, but you were up all night.”

  “Won’t be the first time I’ve gone without sleep. I’ll be fine.” I sighed, sat down, put some distance between us to try to put her at ease. “You’re smart, I’m smart — surely we can figure this out.”

  “Figure what out?”

  “I get why you need to be in control, and I’d never want to do anything to trigger bad memories, but I’m not wired to be the fuckee.”

  “Well then, we’re at an impasse.”

  I sighed and walked to her, gently pulled her to me, and embraced her without holding her. “I don’t accept that.” I’d had an idea, and wasn’t sure if it would work, but I had to ask. “How about an experiment?”

  “What kind of experiment?” Her eyes were hooded, guarded. Afraid. My wolf wanted to tear the people apart who’d put that look in her eyes.

  I couldn’t show anger or frustration, though, because she might think it was towards her, so I kept my body relaxed and voice soft as I said, “Doesn’t have to happen today, but when you’re ready, you ride me while I’m sitting up — on a sofa or something, maybe. When I get close, I’ll stand up, fuck you, but you’ll be upright, legs wrapped around my waist.”

  She shook her head once, but didn’t pull out of my arms. A few seconds later, she said, “How about we both masturbate, without touching the other, first?”

  My wolf wasn’t terribly happy with the idea, but I could see some possibilities. For one thing, I’d get to see what worked to get her off. “How do you envision it?”

  “Me on the sofa with my trusty vibrator, you sitting on the chair across the room, giving yourself a handjob. We talk to each other, watch each other.” She shrugged. “I dunno, maybe it’s stupid, but once we get over that hurdle... maybe the next step will be easier? Whatever that step is?”

  I put my hand near her collarbone and swept her hair away from her face without grasping it. She didn’t freak, and I made a note to do it as often as I could, to help her get used to my handling her hair and not hurting her. I touched her cheek, the lightest of a caress, and brought my lips to hers. She opened for me, and I kept it light, happy, playing with her tongue as it came into my mouth. When the kiss intensified, I backed off and ended it.

  “As long as it takes, Buttercup. We’ll figure it out. You’re worth it.” I stepped back and pulled my shirt off. “I’ll masturbate for you now, if it’ll help.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ice

  “Whether it’ll help or not, I won’t turn down the chance to get to watch you play with yourself,” I told him with a sly grin. Perhaps one day I’d figure out what made him tick, get him under my thumb enough some intimacy might be possible.

  He touched my chin, gently lifted my face. He wasn’t forcing it, and I breathed through the anxiety in my gut.

  “I’m never going to do as you order me, but there’s a good chance I won’t be able to say no when you ask nicely.”

  I lifted an eyebrow and asked, “Don’t you have to take your pants off to properly masturbate?”

  He chuckled and let my chin go, reached for his belt. “Or when you point out the obvious, I suppose. What’re you gonna do while I jack myself off?”

  I backed up, sat on the sofa sideways, and pulled my legs up on the other cushions. “I haven’t decided yet. Depends on how hot I get while I watch you.”

  I’d seen him in his boxer briefs, and thought I had an idea of how big he was, but he was larger than I’d expected, and I looked to his eyes a brief second before letting my gaze fall back to his cock again. Damn, he was hung.

  He sat in the chair, planted his feet, and squeezed the base of his cock before slowly bringing his fist up to the head. He kept his hand in place as his hips pulled down, pushed back up. He wasn’t jacking himself with his hand, he was fucking his hand. The obvious power behind his hips had the blood flowing to my clit, and I reached down to fondle outside of my labia over my pajama bottoms.

  The ring held the front of my labia together, which protected my clit, since I no longer have a clit hood. I’ve never opened my piercing for any of my boyfriends, and when they got curious and asked too often, I disappeared and found another city to hang out in.

  Every guy I’d been with since my torture, I’d known they were only in my life a short time. I’d had fun with them, but I hadn’t fallen for them, and when I left there were no regrets.

  Until Brain, and I hadn’t actually been with him. Still, I’d missed him, and there�
�d been regrets he couldn’t be in my life, which was crazy because the bastard had captured me and held me prisoner.

  Though, my inner voice kept reminding me he’d treated me well, and hadn’t hurt me.

  He was still slowly fucking his fist, his eyes on mine, and I reached inside my pajama bottoms, scissored my fingers on the outside of my labia, pressed in on my clit, and groaned.

  “Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he said, heat in his eyes.

  I breathed out, and out, and out, until my lungs were empty, and then pulled air into my chest until they were full. I needed more than my hand. “Be right back,” I told him as I headed to the bedroom for my vibrator.

  I don’t buy expensive sex toys, as too often I have to leave things behind and travel light. This one was just a normal, hard plastic, hot pink cylindrical vibrator with three speeds and fresh batteries, and I stripped out of my pajamas and panties when I returned to the sofa, my eyes on Brain’s cock as I stretched out on the sofa.

  I started on low, ran it to the right and left of my upper labia, and then lowered it to slide between them, and gave a long, low groan as it sank into my pussy.

  Brain sped up a little, and I worked the vibrator in my pussy as I massaged the area around my clit over my outer labia.

  Within five minutes I was on the edge of an orgasm, and I told him, “I’m close, you going to come with me?”

  “I’ll come with you during your second orgasm. Let it go, Buttercup, and then work yourself up again.”

  My pussy gripped the vibe enough I could hear a difference — the idea of working myself up again was a turn on, but I never came more than once when I got myself off.

  “Don’t argue,” he told me. “You know you want to, and I want to see you play with yourself when you’re all sated and relaxed.”

  “No promises,” I gasped as I flipped the vibrator on high and swirled it around as I pumped it.

  Just before I came, I pushed several fingers into my pussy along with the vibrator, spreading my opening wider and giving myself just the hint of the pain I’d discovered was now necessary before I could come.

  I forgot about Brain while the orgasm held me in its grip, and when I came down, I kept my eyes closed so I wouldn’t have to look at him right away.

  “You’re always beautiful, but you are stunning when you’re coming apart with bliss. I can’t wait until you’re coming apart because I did it to you. Now, turn the vibe down and keep playing with yourself. Just make it feel good, don’t try to make yourself horny again.”

  I’d made it a point to not follow any man’s orders since Ivankov, but my body did as Brain said without even considering telling him to go fuck himself. Perhaps it was because he said it as more of a suggestion, perhaps it’s because I liked the idea and wanted to do it anyway… though neither of those things would’ve made a difference with any of the other guys I’d been with in the past couple of years.

  But now, I turned the vibe to low and slid it around my labia, relishing in the fact it felt good, instead of trying to arouse myself again.

  Within a few minutes, however, my libido perked up again, and I moaned as I slid it back into me, angling it to hit my g-spot.

  This time, I propped the vibrator so it pushed towards my front, and I bent my knee so my foot could hold the base of it in place against the sofa cushion, so the tip pressed into my g-spot as I fingerfucked myself around the vibe.

  I watched Brain in my peripheral vision, his hips going faster now, shoving his cock up through his fist, his hand moving a little now as well, but the majority of the motion coming from his hips.

  “I’m ready when you are, Buttercup. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

  His words pushed me over, and my groans nearly turned to screams as I came harder than I could remember, and he spurted halfway across the room as he came.

  The orgasm didn’t fade as I expected it to, and I continued to manipulate the vibrator, my eyes closed as I gasped my way through the stratosphere. I jumped as I felt another’s touch, and opened my eyes to see him kneeling on the floor beside the sofa, his hand between my legs, his fingers helping mine.

  This hadn’t been the deal, but instead of stopping my orgasm in its tracks, it ramped even higher, and my hips moved with his fingers as I screamed through my bliss.

  Brain knew what he was doing, and he turned the vibrator down, and then off as I came down, and he pulled it from me slowly. He kissed the outside of my thigh and said, “Thanks for letting me help. You okay?”

  “I am, but I shouldn’t be. That wasn’t the deal.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it worked out okay. If I sit on the sofa with you in my lap, do you think I can hold you?”

  “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brain

  She felt so good in my arms, her head on my shoulder, her body sated, totally relaxed. She still had a thin t-shirt on, but I didn’t try to get it off her. I hadn’t expected to make it this far today, and I wasn’t going to push for more.

  She let me hold her a good ten or fifteen minutes, but when she sat up, her face was serious as she told me, “You know all my secrets now. You have to know how much trust I have for you, to have given you the names and locations. Will you trust me with your secret?”

  Ice didn’t really believe werewolves existed, but she knew there was something to the rumors, she just thought there was some logical explanation.

  “I need you to be Harmony before I share my secrets. I know you said you aren’t ready to take on the identity yet, when will you?”

  “When she leaves for her trip, I’ll take on some of it, but I’m planning to officially become Harmony in my head after my plastic surgery.”

  “And you’re looking at a three to four week recovery period, right?”

  “A week to ten days of recovering from the worst of it, another couple of weeks for the eyelids. Supposedly, it’ll be three to five weeks before I’ll be able to go out in public with no bruising or stitches.”

  “Okay, when you feel like you’re Harmony, let me know and we’ll have the talk. I’ll answer anything you want to know about me, personally, but you have to understand I can’t answer any questions about my brothers, right?”

  “Do you still consider Duke, Bash, and Gonzo to be your brothers?”

  I sighed, and let her see the hurt in my eyes. “As far as my oath to the RTMC? Yeah. But more than that? No. Duke’s tried to reach out, but I let him know it wasn’t welcome. He should’ve trusted me, and for him to take you from me when he knew you meant something…” I shook my head. “I can’t forgive him.”

  “He was truly like a brother to you, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he was.”

  Again, I let her see my hurt, didn’t try to hide it from her. I’d pushed him away because she was important to me, and she needed to understand.

  “Okay. I’ll wait a few weeks. You probably want some coffee, if you’re planning to stay up. Let’s get dressed and go downstairs and get something to eat.”

  * * * *

  An hour after Ice left for Harmony’s new rental house, I put together an encrypted call to Kirsten’s office. She’d emailed me back with an appointment for four o’clock, saying she could tack me onto the end of her day, since I was a friend of Aaron’s.

  After the initial greetings, I jumped straight into it. “Hypothetically speaking, if someone had been tortured for ten days straight, sleep deprivation, beatings, fingernails ripped off, and lots and lots of rapes, including having their clit hood cut off… how would one go about helping them enjoy sex again?”

  “How long has it been?”

  “Four years. She’s had sex since then, and apparently a lot of it, but she’s always been in control, almost to the extent of being a Domme, though I don’t think it was a formal agreement. She’s just found men who were submissive by nature, and then kept them around until they rocked the boat.”

  “And there isn’t a submissive bone
in your body.”

  “Nope.”

  “Any chance I can have some sessions with her?”

  “Extremely doubtful. Besides, we aren’t in Chattanooga.”

  I heard her sigh, and a few seconds later she said, “Like it or not, you’re probably going to have to start by letting her control things. The fact she can enjoy sex at all is pretty amazing, based on what you’ve said. You may or may not be able to gradually gain some control, but you’ll have to do it in tiny increments. Your sense of smell will help, as you can back off before she tells you it’s too much, but I’m not sure how much progress you’ll make without getting her someone to talk to.”

  “What do I do when I screw up and she goes all zombie on me?”

  She had me describe what happened, and told me, “You’ll have to play around to see what works best for her. To start, keep talking to her, say her name, touch her and caress her, gentle touches without holding her. Give her space when she comes back, but try not to let her push you completely away. Stay in the same room, even if she needs you to be on the other side of it. As you build trust, she should let you stay closer to comfort her, when she comes back, but you’ll have to do it on her schedule, not yours.”

  “Okay, Kirsten, thanks for the appointment. I’ve already given your assistant my credit card info, do you need anything else from me?”

  “I know you bad-ass guys aren’t big on talking about your feelings, but if you need to talk to someone about what’s going on with you, I’m here. I know most of what happened before you left town, and I can only guess you’ve found her again. Your secret’s safe with me, but it’s a lot to deal with and you don’t have your best friend to bounce ideas off of, anymore.”

  “Thanks, but I’m good. I just needed advice in how best to help her. I don’t want to hurt her while I’m trying to help.”

  “My best advice is to just love her and accept her. Don’t try to help yet. Just be there.”