Chapter 24 #3
We’ve been back in NYC for five days, and it’s been quiet.
Nothing’s happened, and as far as I know, there haven’t been any other threats.
This isn’t one of those things Joaquin will hide from me.
As much as he hates discussing it, he said he’ll never keep threats to me or our children a secret.
He wants me fully aware and extra vigilant, which I can only do when I know what I’m looking for.
“Bend over, chiquita.”
Joaquin holds up the large butt plug, and I gladly follow his command. At first, I was uncomfortable messing around in Joaquin’s cousin’s house, but I got over it real fast when I woke up to him sucking my clit. We’ve abstained from anything too rigorous because of Joaquin’s back.
We’ve made do with some slow stripteases—the man doesn’t need to be asked twice to strip in front of me. Our hands and mouths have gotten plenty of exercise. I’ve even ridden him slowly a few times when he sits on the edge of the bed. Turns out, that’s erotic as fuck.
As of this evening, we’ve agreed we’re both well enough for us to fully explore the things we like or that interest us.
His aunt Margherita took one look at his back, tsked, ripped off the steri-strips—eliciting an unmanly yelp that had his relatives howling with laughter.
She insisted some of them needed stitching.
I’ll keep an eye on them to make sure nothing happens to them, but we don’t want to wait any longer.
We’re going out to dinner with my parents tonight, and we want something that’s private and only between the two of us.
I eagerly lean over the bed and reach back to spread my ass cheeks.
I’m unprepared for Joaquin’s warm tongue to lick me from stem to stern.
I hear a bottle snap open, then there’s warm liquid trailing between my ass cheeks to dribble into me.
Next, I feel the tip circling my entrance as Joaquin teases me with it.
I go up on my toes to thrust my ass toward him.
“Impatient as ever.”
“Yes.”
“Greedy as ever.”
He says it as he presses the plug into me, and my ass practically swallows it. I yelp when what feels like an electric current pulses inside my ass.
“Daddy! What the hell?”
“This one vibrates.”
“I know. But I cannot wear that out with my parents!”
“Yes, you can, and you will.”
“What if they hear it vibrating against the chair.”
“The restaurant we’re going to has padded seats, plus it’s up far enough that it won’t make a sound against anything you sit on.”
I stare at him suspiciously.
“I don’t know that from experience, Tre. I know it from experimenting with it against the mattress.”
I’m still skeptical.
“Tre, I would never do anything to intentionally publicly humiliate you. I wouldn’t broadcast our sex life in front of your parents either. This is meant to be something private between a woman and her man.”
Not a man and his woman.
As possessive as he can be, he readily announces to anyone within earshot that he belongs to me. It’s sweet and empowering.
I relax, and it doesn’t feel as shocking as it did at first. I pull up my jeans and adjust my shirt. I nearly jump across the room when the vibration intensifies. I stare at Joaquin in disbelief.
“It has five speeds. That’s number two.”
“I will not survive the highest without giving away what’s happening.”
“You’ll survive and enjoy it all.”
“I won’t enjoy having an orgasm in front of my dad.”
“Tre, I wouldn’t let it get that far. I might want to see you fight the urge to squirm, maybe even shift a little in your seat. But I don’t want either of your parents guessing what we get up to. Come here and be a good girl. I’ll reward you.”
I force myself not to be too eager. I keep my steps slow and measured.
When I’m within reach, he grabs the front of my jeans and tugs me closer.
He slides his hand up my shirt and down my bra until he cups my breast. They’re more tender, so he’s gentle.
He lifts it, and the support eases the strain from their weight.
He knows how much I like it when he massages them. His thumb plays with my nipple.
“How does this feel, baby girl?”
“Amazing, Daddy.”
His other hand slides down the front of my jeans.
I no longer wear panties. I’ve gotten used to the feel of jeans without any material between the seam and my pussy.
When he tugs the front of my pants, he knows it makes the seam rub my clit.
His index and middle fingers rub the sensitive nub, and I sway toward him.
“Lean against me, chiquita.”
I don’t have to be told twice.
I press my nose against his chest, struggling to stifle my moans. I clench his shirt in my hands, knowing I’ll leave wrinkles. But this is what the man does to me. I can think of nothing but how good it feels when he’s pleasuring me.
He eases those two fingers into me, and it tempts me to push down my pants, so he can fit even more in me. The material constricts his movements, and he was aware of that from the start. He’s doing it to edge me.
“Daddy, will you let me come before we leave?”
“Beg.”
“Please, Daddy. I want to come.”
“Want, not need. I guess that means you can wait.”
“No!”
I tug at his shirt with both hands as I shake my head. It’s only been a couple minutes, and he already has me worked into a frenzy. When he feels me shudder, and not the kind that’s from eager arousal, he takes mercy on me.
“Shh, chica. Daddy’ll make you come. Rock against my fingers, baby girl.”
He slides his thigh between my legs, giving me additional friction. The tears of frustration that threatened to fall abate. I breathe through the intensifying sensations until I throw my head back as I come. He nips and kisses the side of my throat.
“Fuck, Joaco. I needed that.”
“Needed, not just wanted.”
He says it with a smirk as he withdraws his hand, licking his fingers like the cat that got into the cream.
I adjust my clothes again, and we head downstairs to meet my parents.
We have four full SUVs with us. Two with Diaz men and two with Vizzini men.
It’s been this way any time my mom and I go out.
We avoid surface streets when we can that way we can’t get separated at lights, and no one can easily box us in.
On the highway, the vehicles encircle us. The protocol puts me at ease.
Joaquin, however, is not at ease when we pull up to the restaurant. While none of the Mancinellis own this Italian place, the owner is friends with Salvatore. Mikey heard my parents were in town and invited us. Joaquin admits the food is amazing, so he’ll grin and bear it.
When I asked how he knows, he said that he stole Matteo’s, Marco’s, Lorenzo’s, Luca’s, Carmine’s, and Gabriele’s lunches enough times in high school to appreciate it.
The first time was to fuck with them. After that, it was because he and his brothers and cousin enjoyed it.
Apparently, they’d even save some for Pablo and Juan since they grew up and went to school in Jersey.
“It smells so good in here. I might have the entire left side of the menu.”
“That works for me, little one. I’ll order the right side, and we can share.”
People watch as the four of us walk through the dining room to a table where my mom and I can have our backs to a wall, and Dad and Joaquin are partially obscured.
I know we make an impressive sight, especially Mom since she’s sophisticated and gorgeous.
She walks through a room with the confidence of a woman with ties to the ruling families of two syndicates in two cities.
Maybe one day I’ll gain that level of self-assuredness.
“Chica, they’re not just admiring your mom.”
I glance over my shoulder, and I know Joaquin’s as aware of me as he is everyone else in the room. I don’t think he was watching only me. I think he senses my emotions in a way no one else ever has.
“You admire your mom, but there’s a wistfulness to your expression. You are your mother’s daughter. You’re just as stunning as she is.”
Okay, maybe he was watching me. He sees things others don’t. He makes me feel special in a way no one else ever has.
“Thank you, cuore mio.” My heart.
We use the term in both languages. I do it when I can’t use Daddy because we’re in public. He does it when he wants me to know he’s being extra serious. As though the man isn’t always serious.