Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 820: Comforting Gabriela

I stepped fully into the room, letting the door click shut behind me, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet space. Gabriela was too lost in her grief, her shoulders shaking as she clutched a tissue in her hands, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

I took a moment to drink her in—the way her blouse strained slightly over her full breasts, the hint of cleavage visible at the neckline, the way her back arched just enough to make the fabric pull tighter across her ass.

Then, I spoke.

”I’m a friend of Brother Diaz,” I said, my voice carefully modulated to carry the weight of sorrow, of urgency.

I let a tremor creep into my words, as if I were fighting back my own emotions. ”I heard what happened. I came as soon as I could.”

Gabriela stiffened at the sound of my voice, her head snapping up, her dark, tear-stained eyes locking onto mine. They were red-rimmed, swollen from crying, but they were beautiful—deep, expressive, the kind of eyes that could drown a man if he let them.

For a second, Gabriela just stared at me, her breath hitching as she took in my presence. Her dark, tear-stained eyes—wide, vulnerable, and glistening—locked onto mine, as if searching for something real in the storm of her grief.

Then, as if suddenly remembering herself, she wiped at her tears with the back of her hand, her cheeks flushing a deep, embarrassed red. The movement made her dress shift slightly, the fabric clinging to the soft, generous curves of her body.

”Y-you are?” she stammered, her voice thick with tears and the faintest hint of a Mexican accent, the kind that wrapped around her words like warm velvet, rich and intoxicating.

I stepped closer, my voice low and steady. ”Auntie, I am Jack.”

Her breath caught as I moved, her body tensing just slightly, as if she were caught between the urge to pull away and the need to lean into the comfort I offered.

I held out the bouquet of deep red roses, the petals dark as blood, the stems wrapped in crisp white paper. The contrast was deliberate—beauty and danger, wrapped in something pure.

”I brought these for you,” I said softly, my gaze flicking down to her lips as she reached for them. Her fingers brushed against mine, and I felt the heat of her skin, the slight tremor in her touch. It sent a jolt of dark satisfaction through me, the kind that settled low in my gut, stirring something primal.

”Gracias,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. She brought the roses to her nose, inhaling deeply, her lashes fluttering as she composed herself.

The scent of the flowers mingled with her own—warm, floral, with an underlying musk of sweat and something darker, something primal. It made my cock stir, the faintest ache of anticipation.

I set the basket of fruit on the small table beside her, the plump strawberries and ripe mangoes a stark contrast to the sterile white of the hospital room. My gaze lingered on her as I did, tracing the curve of her waist, the way her dress clung to the softness of her stomach.

She wasn’t thin, wasn’t the kind of woman society told men to desire—but fuck, she was perfect. The kind of body made for sin, for gripping, for burying myself in until neither of us could remember our own names.

Her hips flared, her thighs thick and soft, the kind that would part so beautifully under my hands. The dress she wore was simple, but it hugged her in all the right places, the fabric straining just enough to hint at the fullness of her breasts, the way they would spill over my palms if I cupped them.

”Auntie,” I said, the word rolling off my tongue with practiced reverence, ”can you tell me what really happened?”

Gabriela’s breath hitched, her fingers tightening around the roses. She turned slightly on the stool, her body shifting in a way that made the fabric of her dress ride up even higher, revealing the smooth, warm brown of her thighs. The sight of her skin, so soft and inviting, made my pulse quicken.

”I—I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice breaking. ”I received a call from the hospital. They said Diaz had been...” She trailed off, her body shaking with a sob. ”When I got here, he was like this. Someone did this to him. Someone hurt him.”

Her voice dissolved into choked cries, her face crumpling as the tears took over. She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving, her body wracked with the force of her sobs. I didn’t hesitate. I stepped closer, my hand finding the warm, soft weight of her shoulder. My touch was firm but gentle, a false promise of safety, of comfort.

”Auntie, don’t worry,” I murmured, my voice filled with a conviction I didn’t truly feel. ”The police will catch the criminals who did this to Brother Diaz. They won’t get away with it.”

Gabriela lifted her head, her tear-streaked face searching mine for reassurance. Her mascara had smudged slightly, darkening the skin beneath her eyes, but it only made her look more vulnerable, more real. ”Do you... Do you really think so?” she whispered, her voice raw with hope and despair.

I nodded, my thumb brushing away a tear from her cheek. My fingers lingered, tracing the softness of her skin, the warmth of her. ”I know so,” I lied smoothly.

”Diaz is a good man. He doesn’t deserve this. And neither do you.” I let my hand drop to her shoulder, squeezing lightly, my touch possessive, comforting. ”You’re not alone in this, Auntie. I’m here for you. For both of you.”

She let out a shaky breath, her body leaning into mine just a fraction. The trust was building, brick by brick, and I could almost taste it. Gabriela was vulnerable, desperate for comfort, for someone to tell her everything would be okay. And I was more than happy to be that someone—at least, until she served her purpose.

I glanced at Diaz’s motionless form in the bed, the machines beeping softly, a cruel reminder of his helplessness. His face was pale, his body a ruin, tubes snaking from his arms like the tendrils of some parasitic creature. The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Diaz had tried to take what wasn’t his—Sarah—and now here I was, standing beside his mother, my hands on her, my words wrapping around her like a noose.