A/N: All the torture techniques that are outlined in this chapter are real. And very painful.
Disclaimer: Still not mine...but I'm wishing for them on my next birthday!
Rated: M
"Booth," she said softly. "Seeley, what happened?" Brennan watched as his eyes closed.
"I've seen so much, Temperance," Booth answered, his eyes still closed.
"Take your time," Brennan said.
"To see…to see what I've seen, and to know that it happened to that boy." Booth shook his head. He turned away from the window, away from the storm outside. He walked over to the couch and sat down heavily on it. Brennan followed, sitting down beside him. "Do you know what a turcas is?" Brennan swallowed and tore her eyes away from him. She nodded.
"Yeah," she said, barely over a whisper. "A turcas is a device that was used to tear out fingernail. If I remember correctly, John Fian in 1590/91 was subjected to this form of torture in Scotland."
"Did you know that after his nails were ripped out, needles were driven into his quicks." Brennan looked up at him with wide eyes. "I've seen that torture."
"Oh my," Brennan said, putting a hand over her mouth.
"I've seen men…good men…suffer through that." Booth took another deep breath. "I've seen men suffer though walking torture and tormentum inomniae."
"Being forced to walk until you're so tired you pass out and have blisters on your feet," Brennan spoke softly. "Tormentum insomniae is torture by making you stay awake." Brennan knew about the tortures that Booth spoke of, but had never seen anyone go through it.
"Eleven days," Booth said, turning to look at her. His eyes glassed over. "Eleven days I was forced to stay awake. Tortured until I thought I would go crazy." Brennan scooted closer to him. She put an arm around his shoulders. Lighting flashed outside the window, and the storm raged on… inside. He dropped his eyes to the floor. Brennan could see the sparkle of tears clinging to his eyelashes. He took a ragged breath.
"Your feet," she said. "It was part of it?" Booth nodded, unable to speak. She tightened her embrace. "It's okay, Seeley," she said.
"But it's not okay," he defended angrily. "It wasn't okay then. It wasn't okay to do to those men and it wasn't okay for that boy."
"I know, Booth," she comforted. "I know." Moments ticked past and neither one spoke. They just sat there. Listening to the storm rage outside.
"Thank you," Booth said, finally breaking the silence. He looked over at her with dark eyes. "For listening." Brennan gave him a weak smile.
"Always," she said.
"Listen, nobody knows…about…" Brennan put a finger to his lips to stop him.
"I want say a word, you know that."
"Yeah, I know." Booth ringed his hands together and cleared his throat. "Some storm, huh?"
"Yeah, some storm. I wonder if it'll ever stop?" Booth stood from the couch and walked back to the window. He watched the downpour. His eyes looking through the sheet of water. Thunder clasped and lighting exploded over the sky. Brennan came to stand beside him. "Is…this what's been bothering you all week?" Booth nodded.
"Part of it, yes." Brennan waited. "Bones," he began, turning to face her. He waited while she matched his movements. "I ah…what I mean is…" Brennan watched his eye cloud over with doubt. She knew he was confused about something. He took a ragged breath and ran a hand through his hair.
"What is it, Booth?" He looked into her eyes as if searching. For what, Brennan didn't know. She felt her breathe catch when he lift his hand and touched her face. She jerked slightly, but didn't break eye contact. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Booths eyes drifted down her face and settled briefly on her mouth. He bent down, his lips brushing hers. Brennan's eyes fluttered close and she leant into him. She heard a low growl from deep inside as he wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her body tight against his. Brennan's own arms snaked around his neck. Both their breathing was short and sharp. Booth turned their bodies and backed Brennan against the window. The coolness of the glass penetrated the fabric of her shirt, but she didn't care. Booth's hands were roaming her body, and making her more than warm enough.
"Bones," he said against her lips, as his hands found their way under her shirt, leaving trails of fire on her skin. Brennan could feel Booth desire pressed against her. And it made her hotter. Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt, until she was able to push it off of his shoulders. He struggled out of it, using his body to keep her where he wanted her. Brennan dragged her nails down his back as he found the sensitive spot on her neck. He kissed and nibbled her ear. He pulled off her shirt, and fumbled with her bra until he had released her breasts. His hands cupped them. Kneaded them. He found her hard nipples and rubbed them between his thumb and forefinger.
Brennan arched her back, pressing her body against him. She felt emotions stir inside of her. Desire. Lust. Yearning. And something else. Something she couldn't understand. Her body reacted to him like it did to no other man. His kisses set her on fire, and his hands gentling urged her on. Booth wrapped his arms tight around her and pulled her away from the window. He spun her around, and tenderly laid her on the floor. He captured her lips again in a kiss, and then moved down. A trail of kisses down her jaw line. Down her neck. Between her breast. Then he took one of her nibbles in his mouth. Sucking on it, letting his tongue play across it. Brennan inhaled sharply. One of Booth's hands worked on the button of her jeans. And when he finally got it undone, he slid his hand inside. Brennan closed her eyes and clawed at his shoulder when his hand settled between her legs. With firm, but gentle pressure he rubbed her through her satin panties. She arched against him. Longing for more. Brennan drew her bottom lip between his teeth and a whimper escaped her mouth.
Booth looked up at her. He had imaged what she would look like during sex, but never thought she would be so gorgeous. He kissed between her breasts again, and then down her stomach. When he made it to her pants, he sat back on his hunches. Booth grabbed the waistband and began to tug. Brennan opened her eyes and lifted her hips off the floor, letting him pull her pants and panties off. She watched as he scanned her now naked body. And when he looked her in the eye she saw a flash. The flash. The same flash that she had saw earlier in the week. Booth kissed her belly button. Kissed to the top of her bikini line. Kissed down her right thigh. Up her left. Again her belly button. Between her breasts. Her chin. Her lips.
Brennan worked his pants undone and pushed them down off of his hips. Booth did the rest. Quickly pulling away and the pressing his bare body against her. She could feel his hardness. She spread her legs, allowing him to settle between them. He kissed her lips, and then slowly slid himself into her. She was wet and warm and welcoming. He groaned with pleasure. Brennan brought her hips up to meet his. Each thrust was meet with her doing this. She dug her nails into his skin, but he didn't care. He didn't noticed. All he could see was the beautiful woman lying beneath him. Matching his force and desire. He could tell that she was close. The she was going to orgasm. He held on. Forcing himself not to come. Wanting to share the experience. And just when he couldn't hold on anymore…right when he felt his own body begin to quiver…she came. Tightening around him and screaming out his name. He released.
Thunder exploded. Lighting lit up the night sky with extraordinary flashes. Outside the storm raged on. Furiously. And inside…the storm was matched.
Dr. John Fian (also called John Cunningham) was the best known of all the 70 persons implicated in Scotland's most celebrated witch trial, that of the North Berwick Witches in 1590, and probably the bravest of all those Scots who suffered torture. You can read all about his charges and torture at http/ It's worth reading. This is what we, humans, put other humans through. Even now.
Thanks for reading and please review!
Happy writing and blissful reading,
Wolfy
