Page 70 of Hidden While In Sight

Hannah urged him to get up, and Diego gave in. His eyes landed on her discarded Bible before he let her lead him to their bathroom.

He showered off the worst of it first, using her shampoo to clean his hair, enveloping himself with that minty scent. He didn’t bother getting dressed; he enjoyed the way she fussed over every cut she found. She covered him in bandages even though the scrapes weren’t bad at all. He’d had a lot worse. Some of his tattoos covered healed bullet holes and other scars.

As she finished with his back and shifted around to his front, she stilled, seeing exactly how her concern and touch affected him. The way she stared at his erection only made it harder.

She reached out, curling her hand around it and nearly bringing him to his knees.

“Fuck, Hannah,” he gasped, thrusting into her grip once.

“You’re alive, Diego.” Her hand moved with his next thrust, too perfect, like usual. “Show me how alive you are.”

Diego captured her up in his arms, dragging her nightgown over her head and herding her backward. She fell on the bed, and he followed her down, too desperate to focus on anything but dragging her underwear down her legs and burying his face between her thighs. He had no finesse, stroking and working her clit with his mouth while his fingers tested her wetness, using all his knowledge of her body to make her ready for him, but not patient enough to bring her to orgasm. When he was able to work two fingers inside of her with ease, her body arching into his touch, he crawled back up, holding her spread and helpless as he thrust inside of her with a snarling groan.

He was almost feral as he fucked her, every slide of his cock winding him up even more. He stared into her eyes, ruthlessly controlling the way her body strained toward him, pressing her into the mattress with each thrust.

She whimpered as her arms wrapped around his neck, not able to do much more than hold on while he took her.

“Stay with me.” He didn’t even recognize his deep, growling voice. Her drooping eyes lifted from where they’d begun to close, her panting breaths and cries right against his mouth. He wanted her with him as he came, but also forever.

He dropped his chest to work over her tightened nipples, and every inch of his skin touched every inch of hers. His pace was brutal and demanding, but she shuddered against him, so fucking close.

“Mine. You’re mine.” He wanted to mark her, brand her, something, anything, so she wouldn’t be able to deny it.

He caught her next loud cry with his mouth as she splintered apart, orgasming around his cock. Satisfaction and relief warred inside him, sapped away by his driving need to continue to meld them into one. Every squeeze was so fucking perfect, but he wasn’t ready to stop.

Her passage had gotten slicker with her climax, making his thrusts more desperate as he slid inside her again and again, losing himself in the sensation. She was wet and warm and clasping at him, and it felt so fucking good.

“More,” he growled into her mouth as she fluttered around his frenzied thrusts. “Give me everything.” He was so fucking hard, every stroke making his cock even more sensitive as he took her, pushing her to the edge and then over. Her cries filled his ears as she gushed and squeezed him, and he let out his own broken cry, pushed deep inside her, and drained every ounce of himself into her clutching pussy.

He collapsed on top of her, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin as they shuddered together. He tried to weave together pieces of his blown mind. Slivers of concern pierced his heart. The tremors in Hannah’s body didn’t go away, even after he’d finally caught his breath.

He struggled to raise his head, loosening his grip on her legs and seeing the marks he’d made with his fingers. Coldness filled him, chasing his satisfaction away. He clutched her face, searching her slowly opening eyes.

“Fuck, Hannah. Did I hurt you?” He hated himself that he even had to ask. Tears dripped down her face, and the coldness inside spread.

“No,” she denied, but she was still crying, dammit.

Diego tried to lift himself from her, but her arms tightened. He rolled them to their sides instead and slipped out of her. His lips kissed her tears. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He’d let his obsession snap his control.

Hannah turned her head, silencing his apologies with her mouth. She released him with one arm, wiping at her cheeks. “It was overwhelming. We really did become one.” She let out that slight burst of a laugh that meant she was happy as she kissed him again.

That laugh ruined him every time. He clutched her against him while she nuzzled into his throat, her body still shivering but also relaxing.

Her leg curled over his, and the wetness of what he’d done leaked onto his thigh. He wanted to shove every drop of his cum back inside her and stop it up until her body swelled with his baby.

He rubbed his hands over her back instead, soothing her into sleep as he thanked God that he hadn’t just scared her away.

Chapter 29

Diego kept watching Hannah for signs that he’d freaked her out. She acted like nothing was wrong, even though he’d used her body in a way he was ashamed of.

During the children’s afternoon nap, she no longer swam. She curled up with the Bible instead, his gifted Bible again that day. The thought that she was using it because it was linked to him made the hair along his arms stand up.

Diego’s legs shook as he forced himself to stand and cross to her, settling onto the couch beside her. Her eyes lifted from the Bible, and her head tilted in question.

He was the one with questions. He wanted answers, but he was also terrified to hear them. “Why?” he forced out.

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