Chapter 7 #2
I don’t intend it to be a test, but it is.
It’s a test of her trust in me. She needs to trust I’ll take care of her and give her what she ultimately needs.
A partner who’s promised to take care of her and fulfills that promise.
It goes both ways. She’s offering her submission, her willingness to put her faith in me.
I’m trusting her not to come until I say she can.
“Sir, my mind’s telling me not to come. But I don’t think my body can stop. I’m sorry. I want to obey.”
“I know you do, little one.”
I flick her clit with my tongue before I lick. I soothe her, and she releases a shuddering breath.
“Come, chiquita.”
I suck again, and my fingers rub her G spot. I feel the extra flood of cream before I taste it.
“Ay, Papí.”
She moans the phrase. It’s one I’ve heard plenty of times before in many contexts. It’s fucking sexy as hell. It might mean “yes, Daddy” in English, but those have very different connotations. As she comes, I realize I wouldn’t mind hearing either of those.
I once saw Tía Elle mouth “Daddy” to Tío Enrique, and I know I heard my childhood friend Madeline say it to my cousin Javier when I walked past the closed door of my parents’ half bathroom.
There’s no doubt he was pleasuring her. It’s not a term that’s ever been appealing to me before.
No woman’s called me that, and I’ve never wanted one to.
Until now.
Flora’s legs bend as she presses against the door as though it’s all that’s keeping her upright.
I remove her bra straps from around her wrists before I stand and scoop her into my arms. I carry her to the bed and sit on the edge.
Sweat beads along her hairline as she struggles to catch her breath.
I kiss her, and she nestles against me more.
“I want to make you come, sir. I want to taste you too.”
She tries to pull away, but I hold her tighter.
I chuckle. “You will. But right now, you’re going to let me hold you as you come down off that high. You’re going to let me watch how beautiful you are with your flushed cheeks and plump lips from my kisses. Sleep if you want, chica.”
My hand covers her breast and massages like I did earlier, my thumb sweeping over her puckered nipple. Her fingers slide between the top two buttons of my shirt as she nods. Her eyes are closed yet again. She inhales, then sighs before kissing my neck.
“I dozed in the plane. I never take naps. Yeah.”
She sounds half asleep as she agrees to my offer. I reach behind me and pull the sheet and comforter down. I’m gentle when I stand, then lay her on the bed. She reaches for me, her hand wrapping around my neck as I kiss her. She lets go and curls up as I straighten.
“I’m going to the office to call my tío. Sleep, baby girl. I’ll come back when I’m done.”
She yawns before she speaks.
“I’m your chiquita, chica, little one, and now you’re baby girl. What are you to me?”
That single word pops back into my head.
She’d totally misunderstand what I want if I suggest it.
I told her I like all the things that make her independent.
If I tell her I want her to call me Daddy, she’ll think I want her to be a Little.
She knows enough about D/s dynamics that she’s bound to know what that is.
I don’t think she’s a Little or even a Middle.
But I want her to truly believe what I’ve told her several times today.
I want her to feel safe with me and know I’ll protect her and take care of her.
“What do you want to call me?”
“Papí when you’re fucking me. I don’t know what when you aren’t.”
I won’t read into it. It’s a common endearment in Latin America. I could call her Mamí just as easily. In this context, it has nothing to do with parental figures. But I love hearing it.
“If that’s what you want, chica.”
“I’ll come up with something else, Pablo. I just don’t know what yet.”
I kiss her again before I turn away. She’s asleep as I walk out the door.
“Tío, what was I supposed to do? Risk Humberto successfully killing her? Those men might’ve been there just to watch her, but I doubt it. I wouldn’t take the chance.”
Tío Enrique is about as thrilled as I expected that I brought Flora here.
Javier took Madeline to another one of our family estates that was supposed to be a secret.
That didn’t work out so well. Fortunately, the men who compromised their safety can’t tell anyone else about that estate’s location.
I don’t blame him for not wanting a repeat of that situation.
“Sobrino, I trust you to do the right thing for her. But I’ve known you since before you were born.
You were stubborn and insistent with the way you’d kick in your mamá’s belly.
You were never a disobedient child, but you didn’t give in easily.
I know I won’t convince you otherwise, but I don’t think this was a good decision. Are you involved with her yet?”
Yet.
“That’s a big assumption, Tío.”
“Yeah, well, family history tells me what’s happening. Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.”
He knows I wouldn’t react the way I am and I wouldn’t have brought Flora here if I didn’t want something permanent with her.
I’ve only known her for a couple days—God, that makes everything that’s happened seem so outrageous—but I’ve had hours to consider what I want and what I’m doing.
In my world, hours are like months when you usually decide in seconds.
Decisions I can’t undo because they could get people killed.
Sometimes they do, and that’s intentional.
But sometimes they do, and I did everything I could to prevent it.
I have to get it right because I live with each man’s death on my conscience. Getting it wrong only makes it worse.
“You’ve taken her to the safest place you could get to quickly. But you know Humberto knows where the compound is. He will show up.”
“If he makes it off his estate, then I’ll kill him just for that. Then I’ll punish every guard who allowed it. Even if he were allowed past his gate, I’d kill him for coming near Flora. Even if I didn’t want her the way I do, I’d still kill him for targeting a woman.”
“But she’s your woman.”
“Yes.”
My tío sighs.
I expect him to say something, but he remains quiet. He’s waiting for me to confess something, but I won’t tell him anything about my feelings for Flora. He certainly doesn’t expect me to divulge anything he’s guessed has happened between us. He probably thinks I’m already fucking her.
“I’ll call you back if anything comes up.”
“I want regular reports, Pablo. Don’t wait for something to come up. I don’t want to invade your privacy with her, but I’ll send your papá or cousins down there if you make me worry any more than you already are.”
“I don’t need babysitting.”
“I never said you did. I won’t risk your life too by sitting back again.”
He means Juan. He trusted my younger brother to make better choices than he did.
He trusted my brother to accept the consequences of his piss-poor choices.
He made me carry out those consequences.
He believes he should’ve intervened and reined in Juan.
I doubt there’s anything in life he regrets more. He doesn’t want another nephew to die.
“I’ll update you every few hours. It may just be texts.”
“That’s fine. You may be an adult—a nearly middle-aged adult—but I still worry about you, sobrino.”
“If I’m middle-aged, then you’re ancient, Tío.”
I used to tell him that when I was a teenager.
He was in his forties when his hair started to gray around the temples.
He let it go the first time I said it. The second time, he made me go on a six-mile run and smoked my ass.
I’m the second fastest runner in the family.
I didn’t learn my lesson. The third time I said it, we were boxing.
Not only did I wind up flat on my ass, I sported a massive bruise on my kidney for two weeks.
My cousins teased me mercilessly. My parents told me I got what I deserved.
My other tío and my tías just gave me “I told you so” looks.
I know Tío regretted landing the punch so hard, but it taught me to only tease him with love.
“You’ll worry me into an early grave. Do you really want to face Tía Elle?”
“Definitely not.”
My new tía is remarkable. There’s no better way to describe her. We all adore her, and she fits into the family like she’s always been part of it. She is one of us.
“Do you want me to tell your mamá that you’re taking more risks than you need to?”
“Hell, no.”
My mother still terrifies me even if she’s the only person who can make the world right again when everything goes wrong. Plus, she’s still recovering from cancer. She’s been in remission for a while, but she’s not as strong as she used to be. I don’t need to add to her worries or my papá’s.
“I’ll be careful, Tío. I’ll check in, in a few hours. I need to go. Flora didn’t get a chance to pack anything, so she needs some toiletries and clothes. I’m going to ask Daniel’s wife to pick up some things before he comes over with groceries. They’re about the same size.”
“All right. Te quiero.” I love you.
“Yo también te quiero.” I love you too.