Page 71 of Choices

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 intoher, 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.

Chapter twenty-seven

Santiago

Iwalk into Rico's office silently, walking past Matty as I take my regular position against the wall.

"Holy shit!" Matty shouts. "You smell like sex." He leans forwards and sniffs me again like a fucking creep. "Fuck that, you smell like a brothel!"

I stifle the grin that wants to make its appearance.

Matty doesn't get the hint and steps closer. "But you were guarding Hannah today..." he steps even closer, sniffing some more. I push him away from me. "You smell like sex and Hannah."

Now I really do grin. I hadn't planned to keep it a secret, but I wasn't going to brag about it either.

"Holy shit! Rico! Call 911, something's happening to his face!" Matty shouts, exaggerating. "He's having a stroke or a seizure! His lip's doing this weird thing!"

I shove him harder this time, really letting out a silent laugh.

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