Page 126 of Cartel Devil

Neither of us has a sluggish sex drive, especially when it’s safe for us to fuck or make love.

“Mmm. I’m in the mood for a cannolo.”

I grin as I slide my hand over his cock before cupping his balls. He moves that hand to meet the other at my lower back.

“Turn around, little girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

He leaves me and walks to the closet. He already had some clothes here—apparently, all the guys leave clothes at one another’s houses since they’re all large enough for everyone to have their own room. We picked up stuff from my place and additional things from his on the way here from the hospital this morning. All I know is that we’re likely to be here for a while.

He returns with a tie he wraps around my wrists. He presses against my inner forearms to see if there’s any give. Just enough to keep from cutting off my circulation without a chance I’ll get free until he releases me. He steps away again, leaving me near the center of the room, and I hear a dresser drawer opening. He’s going to our toys and implements. A shiver of excitement courses through me.

I pulled Madeline aside earlier and asked her if there’s any reason we should abstain from kink. She said as long as we’re cautious and stop the moment anything feels off, we’re fine. The main thing was getting cleared for sex again. I much preferred asking my soon-to-be sister-in-law than my soon-to-be aunt-in-law. As my midwife, I know I can talk to Tía Margherita about this, but no. I don’t want to ask a woman I now consider an aunt whether I can bang her nephew.

“You’ve been a naughty chiquita?”

“I have?”

“Oh, yes. Tempting me in front of my family. Making me hard every time I’m near you. Being a distraction at all hours of the day and night.”

“Sounds like I have been very naughty.”

“Sounds like someone needs punishing.”

I don’t know where this scene is going—I always trust Joaquin to play out things we’ll both enjoy. Even when penetrative sex has been off the table, he’s come up with kinky ways for us to give and receive oral. Sometimes he asks for my suggestions or preferences, but usually, I’m happy as a clam to let him lead.

He craves control in everything, and I’m happy to not have to think about what comes next. He’s felt out of control with everything that’s happened, so if I can give him back some of that while we’re intimate, then I’ll do it all damn day—and night. I’ve felt completely out of control for the last few weeks. Knowing Joaquin can control at least some parts of our lives makes me feel safe.

Joaquin walks over to the bed, his arms overflowing with the things we purchased before my last hospital stay. I think he has everything that was in the drawer. He lays out the implements by type. Impact play—whip, crop, paddle, and flogger. Sensation play—nipple clamps, Wartenberg pinwheel, feather wand, and blindfold. Bondage and restraint play—collar, handcuffs, padded cuffs, and spreaders. Wax play—candles we’ve yet to light.

All the things.

He runs his hands over my tits, massaging them as he supports their increasing weight. I’ve already moved from a C cup to a D. I can only imagine how big they’ll be once my milk comes in. He rests his right forearm beneath them as his left fingers pluck and tug at my nipples. He’s highly attuned to all my reactions.

When my nipples are hard and pointy, he stops playing with them and slides his hand to my belly. I fucking love it when he does this. The heat from his palm feels good. I love the security it gives me, the sense of safety, the knowledge that I belong to and with him. As he presses his hips forward, his cock presses between my ass cheeks. He belongs to me just as much. His cock is where it belongs—touching only me.

“Are you still too sore?”

“Joaco, they pumped my stomach over a week ago. You know where my tender spots are. I trust you.”

“Baby girl, I know you do. Hearing that makes me feel like the king of the world. I want to be sure laying you over my lap or onto the mattress won’t hurt you.”

“I’ll be okay.”

Does he hear how eager I am? He chuckles, so I think he either hears it in my tone or sees it in my eyes. Maybe both.

He leads me to the bed, and we study the impact devices. He selects a crop with a wide keeper—the flat part at the end. He wants each spank to cover the widest area. We have a crop with a narrow keeper. That’ll send intense isolated sensations.

With his hand at my lower back, between my arms, he steers me to the left side of the bed. Any time we’re doing something out of bed, we’re on the far side of the room. Reasonably, we both know no one’s breaking into this house. If by some rarest of chance they did, they’d be dead before they made it to a bedroom. But it reassures Joaquin that he can hide me. With his sixth sense, I don’t fear him having his back to the door. I know he does it so he’d be the easier target. I have faith it would never come to that.

His fingers slide over my ass, the fingertips easing into the crease until he reaches my pussy. His fingertips graze the already swollen flesh. He presses the length of them against my opening, rubbing back and forth, never quite touching my clit. I close my eyes, reveling in every sensation.

“So wet for me already, chica.”

“Always, Daddy.”

It’s true. Joaquin jokingly complains that he’s always hard. The difference is, his boxer briefs and trousers hide his erection. I’m constantly worried I’ll stand up with a puddle on the back of my skirt or pants.