Page 59 of Son of a Witch

“At least someone’s doing something about it.” Tired and pale, Tor leaned his forehead in his hand and rubbed it.

The woman flicked her drooping shawl over her shoulder, huffed, and stormed out of the room with her crony skipping after her.

“Fuck!” Tor’s fist slammed on his chair arm. “I fucked up again.”

I grabbed him by the cheeks, shifting his face to look at me. “If I hear you talk like that again, I’ll kick your ass so hard you’ll spit it out of your mouth.”

Ben snorted again and shook his head.

Tor’s irritation dropped a scale or two with a flicker of a smile at the corner of his lips. “You’re sexy when you talk like that, Supergirl.” That was my man. He was still in there, I just had to drag him out with threats and humor.

“Don’t worry about the Sorcerers,” I told him, brushing oily hair from his face and scratching at the lengthening stubble of his chin. Since his accident, he’d dropped his man care, letting himself go. I dug the look on him. Sexy. Kinda reminded me of a scruffy Jensen Ackles but hotter. “We don’t need their help.”

Tor perked up, adjusting himself in his chair to sit higher. “What’s your plan, Supergirl?” Heat stretched to the tips of my body at the mention of my nickname. A really good sign when he’d barely used it this past week.

“I got a card up my sleeve.” I grinned and glanced at Ben. “Think you could go and get Cheyanne, the third Sorcerer, for me?”

“Sure.” Ben smirked at Tor. “Don’t get up to any funny business.”

I bent my head against Tor’s shoulder and groaned. We had a reputation with the guards for inappropriate behavior. Hand jobs and blow jobs under the Watch Tower desk. Me riding my men in their chairs for all to see. I didn’t give a shit about public nookie or showing affection for my men. Incredibly sexy, freeing, and titillating. And I had to take advantage of every opportunity when we had lockdown in our cells at night.

That said, four men to pleasure was a handful and sometimes, I needed a break for my pussy to recover. Fun under the table was all they got in those instances.

The door closed after Ben left.

“Supergirl, you’re giving us a bad name in here.” Tor playfully slapped me on the arm. I’d prefer it if he smacked my ass, but I didn’t think he could scoop me onto his lap and do that.

Tingling all over, I took whatever I could get. We hadn’t had much opportunity since his injury and hospitalization. Cold had settled over his quarter of my heart from his decreased affections. I refused to give up on him or let him give up on us. Desperation rose from the depths of me. I wanted to be closer to him, to hold him, kiss him. Right now, he needed to be touched and shown I still cared for him.

I gave him a cheeky grin and rustled his growing beard. “You love your bad girl.”

“I do. Especially when she’sreal dirty.” My heart flipped as the man I loved smiled, warm and teasing, piercing through the depression swallowing him.

I stood up and wheeled his chair out from beneath the desk. Body longing to connect to his, I lowered myself into his lap, and he brought one arm around my waist and rested the other on my thigh.

“This okay?” I leaned my head against his chest and shoulder. He felt cold, hard, and foreign compared with his regular warmth and comfort.

“I’m not fragile, Astra.” His arm stiffened around me. “I won’t break.”

Fuck, this whole situation had me questioning every little thing. Doubt had crept in and taken over, and I felt like I navigated a minefield with him on what to say or do. Topics to avoid to not upset him. Techniques to stop him from falling into his depression. Avoidance of making him uncomfortable. Ways to touch and hold him to show him that I still wanted him.

“I’m sorry.” I wove an arm behind his neck, stroking his nape and hairline. “Sometimes I don’t know what to say.”

He nuzzled into my neck, lips pressed to my burning flesh, begging to be kissed, brushed, licked. Anything to break through the distance between us.

When he didn’t move his mouth or his hands, I changed the topic. “How’s your physio going?” I already knew the answer. The smart thing would have been to avoid the topic but I ached for some good news. For him to tell me he had sensation in his legs and muscle twitches.

“Fine. We’re working on arm, shoulder, and neck strength.” The curt tone told me to drop the subject.

“That’s great progress.” Unsure what to say, I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to shut myself up. I tangled my fingers in his short hair, massaging lightly, generating a groan from him.

“Not enough progress.” I hated that he was so hard on himself. He wasn’t helping himself with an attitude like that.

“It’s something, no matter how little,” I reminded him. Time for another topic change. “Hey, did you read the comics?” The new warden wouldn’t let us sleep together in the same cell at night anymore, otherwise I would have snuggled with Tor and read them together. Me and my man.

“I started but couldn’t get into them.” His hand went limp on my stomach. “Haven’t been in the mood.” Damn. I thought the gift from Pascal would have cheered him up. Everything we did for him lately didn’t elevate his spirits and I’d quickly run out of options.

“Maybe later then?” I rubbed his arms. “I can swing by your cell and read them. Get a ‘lil cuddle. We can do the voices.” Mine and Tor’s thing. We had this game to make each other laugh, where we perform the silliest voices or act out scenes with characters. Childish, really. But we had to make fun for ourselves in this boring place. “No kissing. Hands to yourself, mister.” I meant the last as a joke to bring a smile to him.

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