Page 46 of Witches Be Damned

That one taste spurred him into a frenzy, and he wrapped an arm around my waist, locking me to him and he plundered my pussy for all it was worth, spiraling me into a world-bending orgasm that went on for over a minute. He roared and came, his hot seed spurting into me in jets that dripped down my leg when he pulled out.

He plugged my hole with his finger. “We’re not leaving until I get you pregnant.”

CHAPTER 16 - TOR

Mads’ USB was a treasure trove of information. Names, dates, times, locations of all our missing prisoners… well, those that hadn’t skipped town and crossed into the gantii realms. A costly and slow exercise that only shipped two per week. Any more risked attention from Guild security, who monitored all off-world portal travel. Powerful intel in the right hands.

The only problem was that we didn’t know who to trust with it when we suspected the warden might confiscate it, destroy it, or have us taken to a dark corridor in the prison and murdered. It wasn’t half obvious that he wanted our team weakened and dead from his actions this far. Paranoid? Fuck, yeah! We had to be in this climate when things didn’t add up.

As a team, we decided to do things the long and hard way, like cops picking through breadcrumbs from previous investigations. Sure, it potentially dragged out our sentence, but we stayed alive and off the warden’s radar, and that was key. None of us liked it, especially Pascal, who we had to explain all the reasons why until he finally accepted our position.

Knoxe, Loco, Serena, and I went out yesterday to check the location we were supposed to attend before we strayed to rescue Supergal. As predicted, the place was empty, and the warden was not very happy that the lead went dry. Shit happened. The assholes he wanted caught were probably low-hanging fruit, and not those involved in staging the breakout anyway. Loose ends to tie up. Witnesses to silence. Our target was Devon and his associates.

Belts clicked into place as the team geared up in the training room for our latest mission under the observant eye of sentries. Our goal—capitalizing on the confession from James, a fugitive we captured, who claimed his wife was in possession of a cell phone that other fugitives used to contact him. Thank you to my coercion powers for that little nugget, and for the warden approving the brief to go after the evidence.

When we got out to James’ wife’s caravan, we’d sprinkle some “Guardian fairy dust” and magically produce new evidence, letting us exploit Mads’ intel. Then we’d catch more of these fuckers quicker—instead of the snail’s pace we worked at to avoid suspicion—and get back to our old lives where we belonged. Hopefully, we’d still be free to complete missions, back with the old crew, minus Raze because of obvious reasons. I hated losing him as a team member, but he’d be my buddy for life.

Speaking of our resident Lycan, I had to thank him for passing on my text messages to Supergal to give her updates and ease her concerns about us. She’d be worrying about whether Pascal pulled through, if I was behaving, and Knoxe taking on an unbearable burden. I didn’t want that taking away from her time with Raze. Vacations were meant to be enjoyed, not full of unease.

Zipper teeth snapped into place as Serena secured her boots, calling me back to the directive. Knives slid into holsters as Loco secured his weapons. Pascal secured gin and tonic bombs to his belt.

Knoxe wheeled me into the room five minutes before the rest of the team arrived to fit my exoskeleton over my shoulders and back, locking it into place, where it sat snug with my weapons.

My mind wound back to our interaction.

“That good?” He tested the fit of the device.

“Yep. Thanks.” I clapped him on the shoulder, climbed from the bench I sat on, and swayed for effect to maintain the guise.

Instability happened on previous occasions of wearing this thing when my brain fired electrical impulses to my nerve endings, communicating to them to move.

“Whoa!” Knoxe caught me by the shoulders and steadied me.

I caught his face between my palms. “You’re sexy when you’re soft and caring, babe.” I leaned in for a swipe of my tongue over his bottom lip.

“Don’t get used to it, smartass.” Knoxe’s harsh mouth relaxed into a rare, amused smile as he released my shoulders.

“You say such charming things.” I dropped my hands.

I felt like a schmuck for carrying on this fake scheme, but I’d do anything to protect my girlfriend. Every superhero had to battle his morals every once in a while to take down a villain. I was not giving the warden any more fuel to lengthen my sentence, lock me in higher security wards, deny me basic privileges, and steal any more of my damn future. Nor do the same to Supergal. If I had to lie to achieve this, so be it.

My family needed me. Mom needed a unit fitted out to her needs while MS ravaged her body. Janet needed a house suitable for raising two children and to cover expenses better than she did on a part-time wage.

Back in the moment, Knoxe and I directed our focus to Pascal, who thumbed his tone bars, suited up, and loaded before anyone else as usual.

“How you doing, buddy?” I asked him, placing my palms lightly on his shoulders. “No pain or nausea from the medication?”

The docs discharged him from the hospital and signed off on his ability to perform missions. No rest for the wicked in the Guardians. Disposable assets and all that crap.

Pascal’s thumbnail paused on the edge of his bar. “I’m feeling better. Don’t worry about me.”

Tough guy, hey? In the hospital bed, I could tell by his lowered voice and the way he picked at his bedsheets that he felt shame for his fear of needles. I didn’t give a shit about that. I meant what I said… he didn’t have anything to worry about.

“That’s great, buddy.” I thumped my hand on his shoulders and left him alone. “Let’s kick some ass today, then, huh?”

Knoxe didn’t take the hint and cast his assessing gaze over Pascal. “Let us know if you need to take a breather.” He might have relinquished control, but he’d never shed his natural instinct to protect his team.

“It’s a routine mission to claim a phone,” Pascal shrugged him off. “We’re not facing gantii. I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”

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