Chapter 8
8
TLALLI
T lalli lost her religion somewhere between when Cahuani first kissed her and when he drew the first orgasm out of her, his hands not even touching her as he pressed her against the living room wall with his body. With one of her legs hooked around his waist, the grind of his hips against hers was more than enough to inspire a near-unbearable hunger, and the way his mouth ravaged her neck set everything ablaze. She couldn’t have held out if she wanted to.
Her knees buckled the moment the orgasm dissipated, but Cahuani didn’t let her fall. Of course he didn’t let her fall. Although the way he cupped her pussy nearly turned her to ash.
“What’s wrong, princess?” he cooed. “Too much? Or perhaps too little?”
She shook her head, but only once. It was still spinning. “No, Papa Bear,” she managed, not entirely sure what she wanted to say but saying exactly what she felt nonetheless. “Just right.”
She could hear him smile. “Good girl.”
Then his hand was around her back, and she was being steered away from the wall before she could fully open her eyes.
“Kneel on the couch,” he commanded. He released her then snapped his belt in his hands, and she all but stumbled onto the cushions. “Grab the back.”
“Yes, Papa Bear.”
“Don’t let go.”
She nodded, for a moment forgetting the instruction he’d given earlier, then arranged herself on the couch.
“Sorry? I couldn’t hear you.”
She inhaled slowly. “Yes, Papa Bear.”
“Good girl.”
The belt whipped across the center of both her ass cheeks with acute accuracy. It landed twice before she managed to choke out a cry in response.
“Did that hurt, princess?” His voice was warm honey down her back.
“Yes.” She couldn’t help but confess. “But I liked it.”
“I’m sure you did. You want me to fuck you the same way, don’t you?”
She whimpered.
“You want it rough because you want it to hurt. And you want it to hurt because you think you deserve it.”
It would’ve been insulting if it weren’t so damn disarming, the ease with which he played her body like an instrument he’d long mastered. Her pussy was still spasming, her thighs glistening with arousal and trembling in anticipation. And he hadn’t even taken his fucking pants off!
Why had she put a clock on this? In what world was a weekend going to sate her when she was already prepared to beg just to have him touch her? She would only leave here with more longing in the end.
She definitely made the worst possible decision she could have tonight. And yet, she did not regret it at all.
She shivered as his voice filled the air again, this time so much closer than she expected. He was standing directly behind her. When she began to turn her head, he snapped the belt once more, causing her to abruptly abandon the effort.
“Eyes ahead, Tlalli,” he growled.
“Cahuani—” she breathed.
“You want to atone, don’t you? You want to be forgiven for your sins?”
Her body shook hard in response. He knew exactly how to deconstruct her very being and turn her own body against her, wielding it for his purpose. And she had no qualms about it. Tlalli had never wanted to be dominated. Yet tonight, she wanted to be conquered. By Cahuani and Cahuani alone.
“Yes, Papa Bear.”
She shut her eyes in surrender and let her head hang forward. There was movement behind her, and she braced herself for another strike of his belt, eager to feel the burn of the leather across her ass again. Instead, the sofa cushion beneath her shifted, and then the head of his cock was tracing the seam of her ass.
She whimpered again in spite of herself, but before she could bite down on her tongue hard enough to suppress anything else, his hand was on her neck, bending her forward, and his cock was entering her cunt none too gently, stretching her walls.
“Cahuani!”
It was a broken cry at best. Her hand floundered as she reached back to grab him and failed. He was quick to reach down and guide that hand right back to the couch.
“What did I say, Tlalli?” he hissed. “Let go of this couch again, and you can go back upstairs. Or downstairs. Wherever Anthony is waiting for you.”
The threat was far too real and far too disconcerting to challenge. And had it been anyone else, Tlalli certainly would’ve challenged it. Also, she’d promised to listen to everything he said, to follow every direction and instruction down to the letter if she wanted his forgiveness.
And she did want his forgiveness. But the fact of the matter was that she wanted him to fuck her more .
The camera peered at them from a few feet away as he eased into his strokes, finding a rhythm he liked and leaving her little time to adjust to the fullness he provided. She didn’t mind it. She would take whatever he offered her, eagerly. He seemed to know it, too, positioning her to his liking without so much as a word. He was the only one who could get away with some shit like that. Anyone else would have been dust by now.
Instead, she was the one disintegrating beneath his touch.
His hands moved along her body like a sculptor’s, caressing every inch and applying pressure where necessary. He wrapped a hand around the front of her throat, loosely at first. Then, with a firm squeeze, he plunged deeper inside her, and her eyes rolled hard in her head.
“Oh, God—” she gasped.
“I think it best we not draw his attention,” Cahuani returned.
Tlalli couldn’t concentrate long enough to care who or what she might summon to the site of her sacrilege, at least not once Cahuani’s hips started hammering against hers like a battering ram. She stretched out over the couch, spreading herself open farther, and he took advantage like she knew damn well he would. He wasn’t new to this. He read a situation and handled it with efficiency. Fucking her seemed to be anything but an exception.
At some point, he was standing again, one hand holding her hips in a bruising grip and the other gripping the back of her neck, keeping her bent forward with no hope of escape. Thank goodness .
Heavy as her eyelids were, she managed to catch a glimpse of the camera once more and imagined that Cahuani was staring at it too, envisioning what he looked like pounding her. The image she herself conjured made her hips buck back against his and her teeth sink into her lower lip.
Maybe she would send the video to her phone as soon as they finished this round. Maybe that phone would chime from its place in the bathroom drawer and alert Anthony to its presence. She really only used it to communicate with him and Elias, so she had never bothered to lock it. All he had to do was swipe up to see it. Maybe she should let him. Maybe she even wanted him to. If he started a war over it, that was on him, and at least then, Michael could no longer pretend Anthony was anything but a burden, more trouble than he was worth.
But that would be so terribly reckless, wouldn’t it?
“Oh, god!” she called out again as Cahuani switched up the angle, which earned her another sharp slap on the ass.
“You want forgiveness, princess?” Cahuani said. “You better address your prayers accordingly.”
And she did. Of course she did because she was a good girl who did everything he said.
“Fuck, Papa Bear!” Reward came swiftly. She bit down on the end of the last word as she sailed over a precipice, her body in a free fall she couldn’t see the end of.
Her legs quaked, and her fingers clung to the back of the couch, although they did little to anchor her. The world seemed to split open beneath her as another bloomed from its crust. Was this what it meant to be born again? To be made anew?
She did not have time to ponder that. Cahuani, who had pulled out of her at some point during her devastating orgasm, was spinning her around and dragging her down to the floor. She parted her lips to try to force air into her lungs. His cock went down her throat instead.
His balls slapped her chin twice before her nose was pressed flush against his groin, then his feral roar filled the room as he came. She gulped him down on instinct, her eyes screwed shut.
“That’s my good girl,” he muttered, patting her cheek none too gently and sending another spasm through her pussy. She was elated she would have all this on tape.
When he at last pulled out of her, she gazed up at him through heavy lids. His molten brown eyes were already on her, his tongue sweeping over his lips.
His words came out in a huff. “Congrats, princess. You’re not beyond forgiveness after all.”
Part of her hoped she was. She would rather spend an eternity atoning like this.