"I was so terrified," Gabriela whispered, voice fracturing on every other syllable, thin and trembling as a wire stretched to breaking. "When the news broke… they kept saying you… that you'd tortured Diaz until he was barely human. I told myself it was lies. Over and over. That you would never—never—become that kind of monster."
Her forehead dropped hard against mine. Our breaths tangled—short, uneven, fever-hot against each other's lips.
"I kept seeing you in some freezing cell instead. Bruised. Drugged. Gone. That I'd never feel this again…" Her palms pressed flat to my chest as though checking I was really solid. "Never hear your voice. Never have you."
Her full breasts stayed crushed against me, rising and falling too fast, nipples still peaked and insistent beneath the thin hospital gown. When her hips gave one small, helpless roll—grinding her heat along my thigh—it wasn't deliberate. It was instinct. Need speaking when words failed.
