26. Santiago
Chapter twenty-six
Santiago
W atching Hannah leave the local PD with her head held high last week filled me with pride. Our little warrior woman. The deep-seated need in me to protect her has become an obsession. The boys and I unanimously decided I would stay with her during the days, and we would take turns watching over the house at night. If the FBI made the connection between her and us it was only time before our enemies did too.
I know Matty and Rico both have been with Hannah. Which leaves me. I want her. I want her badly. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also nervous.
I've caught her looking at me when she thinks I'm not looking. She likes my body. But what if she doesn't like me? What if my scar is too much of a turn-off?
But I don't have to worry too long. I'm sitting on her couch after she comes home from dropping her kids off at school. Sometimes I ride with them, but we were out late last night talking to our soldiers about Vitale so I slept in, driving to Hannah's house before she got home from the bus run.
Hannah comes in the front door wearing a sexy little sundress and smiles when she sees me. She hangs up her purse before plopping down next to me on the couch.
I wrap my arm around her shoulder and she snuggles into me easily.
"You know I've broken my no-cheating ban, right?"
I smile as I look at her, one eyebrow raised. Is she propositioning me?
"I mean. I slept with Rico and Matty. I'm sure they've told you?"
My smile widens and I nod.
"So like..." she trails off, twisting her fingers nervously. Fucking adorable.
My smile fades, though, when I realize that I have to confess.
You have to teach me.
"You've never been with a woman?" She asks. I scan her face for judgment but find only open curiosity.
No. It's a simple sign. Three fingers. One motion.
Unbelievably, her smile widens.
I want to tell her that my home life was so awful as a teen that I was painfully shy. I was afraid that if anyone looked too closely at me they would see the poverty and the abuse. I wore baggy clothes and tried to blend in with the crowds.
I know a few girls checked me out, but even if by some miracle I could seduce them, where would I take them? Back to my worn mattress on the floor with no sheets?
Then, after the "accident," I couldn't speak to seduce a woman. Women couldn't stand to look at my scars, so I gave up. The boys often offered to hire me a prostitute, but that would just be embarrassing. She would what? Bounce around on my cock, NOT looking at my scar? Pretending she liked it? It wasn't worth it. The humiliation of a woman pretending to want me was too much to bear.
But this woman standing in front of me? Hannah's a different story. She took one look at my scar and scolded me for covering it up. Since that day she's only ever looked me in the eye. Or checked out my body when she thought I wasn't looking.
She laces her fingers through mine and leads me up the stairs to her bedroom. It's exactly how I expected it. Cream colored duvets and decorative pillows. Boring pastel artwork on the walls. Gold decorative lamps. Nothing at all reflecting Hannah's warmth and personality. A conversation for another day.
She turns to face me, still grinning wildly.
"I'm not too old for you?"
I shake my head.
"Are you nervous?"
I nod.
She takes my hand in hers. "Don't be. You can stop me any time, just tap me twice, okay? Even if you just need to slow down. We'll explore what you like and what you don't like. Number one rule is honesty, okay?"
I nod again.
She presses her chest to mine, her soft breasts crushed against my hard muscles. Her tiny arms wrap around my waist, gently pulling me against her. She has to tip her head back to look up at me. I get lost in the soft blue of her eyes, the dusting of freckles across her nose, the slender curve of her chin, her soft, kissable lips.
My breathing speeds up as lust and nerves flood my bloodstream.
I can't help myself. I reach up and drag my thumb across her jaw and over her soft lips. She leans into my touch.
"Kiss me." She whispers, her warm breath skating across my face. I take a grounding breath in and sigh it out, closing my eyes and pressing my lips to hers. I don't know what to do. There's movement, right? I'm supposed to be moving?
Hannah doesn't give me time to spiral. She presses her lips into mine, moving her lips against mine. All I have to do is follow her movement. Her hand reaches up to cup my cheek and a sob fights to break loose. Her touch is so tender, so worshiping. I've never been touched like this. Ever.
She licks the seam of my lips, pressing for permission to open. I open and welcome her. Her tongue dances with mine and she tastes like the coffee cake she was eating earlier. I want more. I want to crawl inside of her and live in this feeling. My heart is racing, my hands are shaking and I'm impossibly hard. I grip the back of her neck, trying to pull her closer to me. My mind is a jumbled mess. She grabs my other hand and before I know what's happening she presses it against her breast, arching into my hand.
I want to die.
She squeezes my hand, causing it to squeeze her breast. I've been dreaming of this since I first saw her.
Her kind heart and plump tits are a tie for what I love best about her.
She backs us up until her knees hit the mattress and she sits. Like this she's eye level with my cock, which I'm sure she can see straining against my jeans.
She licks her lips in a move that gives my cock its own heartbeat.
Fuck me.
She undoes my belt while I toe off my boots and pull my shirt over my head eagerly. She ghosts her warm fingertips down the ridges of my abs.
"Wow, Santi. You're stunning." I love how she leisurely drags her gaze up and around my body, like a caress.
My cock complains, though.
I kick off my jeans and crawl on top of her on the bed. She wiggles back a little to give me more room, but I don't want room.
You show me? I ask.
She bites her lip and nods, so with a confidence I don't really feel, I press her skirt up around her hips and bury my face between her thighs.
"Oh! God!" She screams, and the ache in my boxer briefs only increases. I press my hips into the mattress, desperate for any kind of friction.
"Um...whew...okay..." she pants, knowing she's supposed to be teaching me.
I drag her panties down and toss them onto the pile of my clothes. I'll be keeping those.
"Just lick me? And play with my clit?" She gives a breathy, self-deprecating chuckle. "I've never gone down on a girl, so I don't really know what to do."
I grab her hand gently and bring it to her soaking-wet core so she can show me.
She takes her middle finger and rubs her clit back and forth and then in a circle, before slipping a finger inside and moaning.
Alright, enough fucking show and tell.
I swat her hand away and replace her finger with mine and latching my mouth to her clit. She tastes musky and sweet and not at all what I was expecting. Her pussy is tight, and I explore the ridges inside of it, imagining what that's going to feel like on my cock.
Internally, I groan.
That is until I hit a spot that feels different and am rewarded with a deep, guttural moan and an arched back. I dart my head up to look at her. Her pale skin is flushed with pink. Her chest, neck, and cheeks are all stained with the color. She's got both of her breasts in her hands, squeezing them hard. She's fucking gorgeous like this.
So I find that rough patch of skin again and stroke it while sucking and tonguing her clit. She writhes, moans, gasps, and mewls and I have to essentially fuck the mattress I'm so hard.
Until it's too late. She comes and when I feel her walls squeeze around my fingers, I can't help but to imagine my fingers are my cock. I feel my balls tighten as I unload into my briefs.
I bury my head in her thigh in embarrassment, my hips thrusting gently as wave after wave of cum fill my boxers. Maybe I can just slide the boxers off and she won't notice. Her eyes are still closed, her breathing slowing, so I stand, turn my back to her, and slip my boxers off, making quick work of the cum stuck to my leg.
But of course, I've never been that lucky.
"Did you just come?"
I wince, but turn to look at her. There's not an ounce of judgment in her voice, just open curiosity and...hopefulness? I don't get that.
Now my cheeks heat with embarrassment, but I nod.
She throws her head back against the mattress. "That's so fucking hot." She groans, groping her chest again.
A relieved smile crosses my face. Of course, she wouldn't care. She knows I'm a virgin.
"That was the best orgasm I've ever had." My chest puffs up in pride. She opens one eye to take me in and laughs before swatting my bare chest. "But if you tell the other two, I'll deny it to my dying day."
Just as I'm getting hard again, her doorbell rings. Hannah looks up at me in a panic.
"Sarah!"
I quirk an eyebrow at her while she scrambles out of bed and grabs a robe from her bathroom.
"I totally forgot Sarah was dropping off Girl Scout cookies today!"
She rushes past me and out the room, shrugging her robe on, her footsteps on the stairs shortly after. I'm standing in her room, buck ass naked. But uneasiness sits in my stomach.
What would Rico or Matty do? They wouldn't stand here like a dirty secret. They'd wrap a towel around their waist and go down with their girl.
Grinning, I do just that.
Hannah's friend Sarah is cute. Short, with mousey brown hair in a pixie cut, and a turned-up button nose. Her eyes widen when she sees me over Hannah's shoulders. I grin wildly before throwing my free arm over Hannah's shoulders.
She tenses, and I'm worried I've misstepped, but she sighs and leans into my touch instead.
"Oh my God. Did you hire a sex worker? I follow a guy on TikTok. He's adorable. Do you do full service? What's your hourly rate?" My grin widens as she openly checks me out. "Actually, with you I'd probably only need 15 minutes. Can I get your number?"
"Sarah!" Hannah shouts, stepping in front of me as if to protect me from her overly horny friend. I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. I've never been this happy. Until she says...
"He's not a sex worker! He's my boyfriend!"
Sarah 's jaw drops open and her eyes ping-pong between Hannah and myself. I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her back against me, dipping my head so I can kiss the crook of her neck. She leans into me as if my arms are exactly where she belongs.
"Your boyfriend?" Sarah whisper-shouts, although why she's whispering, I'm not sure.
I can feel the heat coming off of Hannah's cheeks.
Hannah gives a one-shoulder shrug. "I figure if Alan can have his mistress, why can't I have a boyfriend?"
More ping-ponging and the joy that lights my heart is something I've never felt before.
"You go girl," Sarah says on a sigh. I can't help but laugh soundlessly. "Okay. I'll let you get back to your..." Sarah says, waving a hand between Hannah and me. "But call me later!"
Hannah and I wave our goodbyes before she closes the front door.
I grin at her, dipping my head down to catch her eyes, taking in her red cheeks and sheepish smile. "I'm your B-O-Y..." I start to finger-spell the word boyfriend because I never thought it was one I'd have to learn. Her blush deepens.
"I mean. Is that okay? I know we never really talked about it...but...you're not..." I kiss her to shut up her adorable ramblings. She can call me whatever the hell she likes. She's the first and only woman to call me anything.
I continue to kiss her as I drag her back upstairs to finish what we started.
I spin her so her back's to the bed and push her down with a confidence I don't really feel.
"Are you sure you want to? We could do it tomorrow? Or another day?" I simply stare at her. "I just don't know if that ruined the mood?"
For someone so confident, she's so insecure about making this right for me. I grab her delicate hand in mine and press it against my quickly-hardening cock, dropping the towel.
"It's always the quiet ones..." She whispers, eyes transfixed on my crotch. I raise an eyebrow to give her a curious look.
She shakes her head. "You're huge."
Internally, I throw a fist in the air. My girl likes it.
"And uncut..."
I tilt my head, wondering if that's going to be a problem. Circumcision isn't popular in Columbia. She crawls to her knees and reaches out to touch me. She licks her lips and seems mesmerized by my cock. She gently takes it in her hand and pulls my skin back, revealing the head.
I hiss a breath and she drops it, clearly afraid she's hurt me. I laugh silently, full of mirth and amusement. "You're terrible!" She whispers, swatting my chest with her hand.
I don't think I've ever been this happy. I'm nervous but happy.
I want to memorize the way she's looking at me. Her eyes roam my body hungrily, soaking in every inch, every muscle, every divot.
After the accident, when Rico found me, soaked in my own blood, my hands wrapped around my throat praying not to die, he found a shell of a boy. He took me for surgery, and saved my life, but he saw a darkness in me he decided he could use. He brought me into the fold of his newly acquired empire and taught me the ropes. Being able to close off the human side of me made me the perfect, impersonal killer. After your own mother slits your throat and you feel your own flesh, the ridges of your esophagus, the steady thrum-thrum-thrum of your blood seeping through your fingers, there's not much worse to see or feel.
I became inhuman. Rico's perfect killing machine. I took all the anger, the betrayal, the savage disregard for life my mother instilled in me and became his perfect killing machine. He would point me at a person and know the job would be done. He needed information? I got creative in how to torture it out of someone. At the end of the day, we're all only a skin bag of meat and blood, right? Controlled by a brain and central nervous system? We're no different than mice or worms. When you can get the skin bag of meat to war with the central nervous system? You can get just about any truth out of a person.
My reputation proceeded me. Rumors began, each one more horrific than the last, and we encouraged them. Soon, it merely took the threat of me to get loose lips to spill.
My reputation as a soulless killer is one of the things that keeps our territory and our men safe. Until recently.
But the minute Hannah saw me, she saw a person. Within minutes she was tearing down my walls. When I told her my story, she saw the sixteen-year-old boy fighting for his life. When she kissed me for the first time, she saw me as a man. She's not afraid of me. And maybe that's because she hasn't seen the darker side of me. But fuck, if she keeps seeing the person, and the man that I am, I'll make sure she never sees the other side of me. I feel like she's breathed life back into me.
And here she's splayed out beneath me, in her husband 's bed, offering me her body, with a look of lust and trust that I could get addicted to. Men flinch and cower in my presence, knowing what bodily harm I can do to them. Hannah's laid out beneath me, naked, offering herself up for my pleasure, and not an ounce of her is afraid. I didn't know I needed this, but I fucking do.
She reaches for me, and I bite my lower lip. God, I want this to be good for her. But I just came from going down on her, I know I'm not going to last long enough to get her to come again.
As if she can read my mind, she smiles. "The first time don't worry about me, sweetheart. I just want you to enjoy it. We've got another two hours before I have to go get the kids. You can get me off as many times as you want after that. This first time, I just want it to be good for you."
Fucking. Angel.
I kneel between her legs and drag my thumb through her still-slick folds. She sighs in contentment. I lean over her, lining myself up with her pussy.
"Go slow. You're huge." She whispers. I nod, staring down at where we're joined. I pull back the skin of my shaft so I can feel every inch of her on my head. I gently press in and feel like I could come already. She's warm and wet and so very tight. She's fucking heaven.
I press further in before I can feel the tell-tale tingle building at the base of my spin. I don't know what she sees in my face, but she wraps her legs around me, digging her heels into my ass, and wraps her arms around my shoulders, pulling me towards her. I thrust into her, fully sheathed, and she arches her back, digging her nails into my shoulders.
"Yes! Santi! Come! Come for me!" She begs, giving me permission to rut into her ruthlessly. It takes an embarrassingly short time before I'm spilling into her.
She holds my face in her hands and I'm dying of embarrassment. I came after four pumps. Jesus Christ. But I'm still coming, and I don't want to stop. I press my forehead against her chest, trying to hide my embarrassment.
But that's the thing about Hannah. She doesn't let me hide. She pulls my face back up and kisses the breath out of me. She rolls us to the side, still fully sheathed, and kisses me with so much heat and passion I forget about why I'm embarrassed.
She flips me onto my back so she's still straddling me. "Let me know when you're ready to go again."
This fucking woman.