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Well, no more of Logan tonight when I had Hanna to admire. Poor thing was passed out for the night already so soon after she came home from the date. No, she didn't knock out because she was exhausted with after-date activities. Logan had dropped her off at the corner right after the date, which pissed me off because he let her walk nearly a block home in the cold, at night, in a shady part of town.
Though to be fair, Hanna's never told Logan her exact location. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I had a few guesses. Maybe she didn't want to bring people back to her place or let others know where she lived; I was the same way with my hookups and dates, always at a hotel or their place if we were to spend the night with each other. Another thing I could think of was that maybe she was embarrassed about where she lived, but I couldn't see that from Hanna, given her personality. Another reason could be Logan himself not wanting to drive to a shady part of town to drop her off at her front door.
At least with me, she'd always be safe. I didn't give a shit about the damn area nearly being the slums. At the very least, I'd always walk her right to her door. Hanna's safety was something I'd never risk or play around with; she was much too precious.
Carefully, I forced her window open and slipped inside. I was mindful to keep as quiet as possible, even though I knew her meds would keep her knocked out well into the morning. If not, then she wouldn't remember anything if she stirred half awake.
I've slipped into her place nearly every night since her first date with Logan after their first time hooking up at Guilty. So, about two weeks now since I've developed this new nightly habit of breaking and entering Hanna's place.
Gently and slowly, I eased myself down next to her on the edge of her bed, sitting next to my sleeping beauty. Like every night before this, I let my entranced eyes drink in her body from head to toe, taking in every little detail her poorly lit lamp allowed me.
Sadly, I looked at her face, letting the tips of my rough fingers ghost her discolored cheek. I always wondered why she bought so much makeup, but after seeing her truly that first night, I connected the dots easily enough.
Now I wanted to know what happened to her, to know how the majority of the right side of her face got burned. Most of her right cheek was consumed by the scar, which had a very slight texture to it, just barely noticeable upon a quick touch. I only felt and knew the difference now after tracing every inch of her multiple times.
I could've easily asked her friends about it, but then I'd have to explain how I even knew of it in the first place. So far, my search for answers has led me to dead ends. There were no reports or articles with Hanna's name tied to it, so either the event never made it to any report, or it happened when she was a minor, so her name was kept out of the media. Well, the other option would be to—illegally—obtain her medical records; unless she never got official medical treatment, then nothing would be in any system.
Sighing softly, I leaned down and placed a kiss against her temple, letting my lips linger against her sweet skin so I could bask in her warm scent of ginger, honey, citrus, and dried tea leaves. If only I could spend every night and waking morning with her in my arms.
The soft sound of fabric scrunching under my fists softly scratched at the silence in the room. A dull ache gripped my tense muscles as I resisted the urge to scoop her up in my arms and hold her tightly against me. Her small body would fit and feel so nicely against mine.
A slight shake and whimper from my little tigress released the tension in my body with a wave of worry. Looking down, I watched Hanna's soft face twist with pain and fear as her nightmare took hold of her.
Nightmares were something Hanna suffered nearly every night from what I've observed, but they were usually fleeting. However, there were the rare ones that lingered, like this one tonight.
It was a clear indicator that her nightmare, this time, took hold of her with how hard her face twisted and gutted at me while her body started to toss and turn. Soon, her little whimpers picked up to full-blown words and screams.
Then, like the other nights before, I instinctively laid down next to her, wrapping my arms tightly around her waist and shoulders, holding her tightly against me as I shushed and whispered in Russian to her. "Moya malen'kaya tigritsa, vse v poryadke. YA zdes', ya tebya poymal. Ty v bezopasnosti. Oni bol'she ne smogut prichinit' tebe vreda, tak chto vernis' ko mne. YA zdes' radi tebya, ya tebya poymal."
Carefully, I turned her body to face me fully as I had been holding her sideways. "Dorogaya, vernis' ko mne. Ochnites' ot svoyego koshmara. Tvoya mechta zdes', derzhit tebya. Prosypaysya ko mne." I continued to whisper sweetly to her as I cradled her head against my chest, my fingers softly stroking her thick, voluptuous slate black hair.
My other hand held her lower back tightly, drawing small circles with my thumb to soothe her further. "My little tigress, fight it."
Much to my relief, Hanna's body started to calm shortly after I held her. I hated seeing her all twisted up in fear and suffering; seeing her go through the pains of her nightmares felt like a bullet to my gut while a knife twisted at my heart. I was helpless to her when it came to her nightmares. I couldn't make them go away, disappear forever.
At least my presence seemed to help her. The first few times I saw her go through the full motions of her nightmares wrenched at my heart; I don't know what came over me the third time I saw it happen, but I crawled into her tiny twin bed and held onto her for dear life. I'd half expected her to wake up and clock me one in the face. Still, I guess her medications did a better job than I thought because she calmed down in my embrace and peaked her eyes open momentarily to mumble something under her words before snuggling into me.
Just like now, her squinted eyes softened and opened halfway. Her brown orbs looked at me in a daze as her hands gripped the front of my shirt tightly. "I wish this was real, but I'll take what I can get. I want to have you so bad, it's not fair." Is it wrong of me to somewhat like her drugged up like this?
God, it'd be so easy to do anything to her right now, and she'd probably have no recollection of it. I shouldn't even entertain the idea, but I was only a human with needs at the end of the day. If it were anyone else, I would throw the idea out the window the moment it trickled in, but I festered on it when it came to Hanna.
I haven't acted much on my urges, maybe groping a feel of her ass or tits here and there the past nights at most, but something snapped in me tonight with how she pressed her body into me. So, unable to help myself, I slid my hands down to her bubbly ass and groped her until I got a small groan from her.
Fuck it, I need a better feel of her, to taste her. Just a small taste.
Ghosting my lips over hers, I tilt her head back by fisting the back of her head softly. My lips left a trail of kisses down her neck before I buried my face into the crook of her neck, groaning internally as I got a lungful of her intoxicating scent.
God, I really hoped she wouldn't fully wake. Otherwise, I'd be in really deep shit.
Cradling the back of her head with one hand, I carefully slip the other into her sleep shorts, muffling a groan by biting my lips when I felt the thin lace underneath. Slowly, I slid my hand deeper until I cupped her covered sex fully over her panties, letting my hand linger against her heat as I debated on whether I should continue; it wasn't too late to pull my hand back out and leave, but at the same time, I have my hands in her pants, literally.
Fuck it, not like I was a saint. As if I haven't been breaking her boundaries with what I've done so far.
Much to my surprise, Hanna's hips bucked at my hand, her sweet moans slipping out of her parted lips. God, she'd kill me in an instant if she knew what was happening right now.
"Blyat'." I hissed under my breath when I traced a finger along the edge of her panties to part them—only to find it be the string of her soaked thong and not full fabric. "What's got you all this wet, malenkaya?" I muttered against her lips, suppressing my groan as I slipped my fingers between her folds and found her clit.
"You." Her answer dragged out with her moan as her hips rolled into me more. "I need to come, please."
