I’m the only one in the family who doesn’t mind wearing suits every day. I’m just so used to them I don’t think twice about it. My cousins think they’re too starched and stuffy. They complain the ties are nooses. I look at them as my suit ofarmor. My wealth and size impress and intimidate before I say anything. They keep most people at arm’s length.
Not my chiquita.
Her hand around my dick is euphoria in the making. She opens to me when I press my lips to hers. Our tongues tangle as she lets me lead. We understand each other. She’s completely competent and independent. But she enjoys having that weight lifted off her shoulders sometimes. Adding it to my shoulders gives me the control I crave, not because I’m a megalomaniac, but because being out of control means people I love die.
Do I count Vita on the list of people I love?
Yes, idiota. You have since nearly the beginning.
Denial is futile.
I shift my weight to ease her onto her back, my leg settling between hers. I press my thigh against her cunt, and her hips rise and fall as she rubs against me. My mouth stifles her moan, but I still hear it. I move again, squeezing my hips between her legs.
“Jandro, we can’t.”
“I think we’re proving we can.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“Who says?”
“Common sense. We’re in a hospital room where anyone could walk in at any moment. We’re only here because you were injured in an explosion that nearly killed us only hours ago.”
“Being inside you is just the treatment I need.”
“Daddy, what if you get hurt?”
I see the genuine fear in her eyes, and I have a moment’s doubt. But that’s all it is. A moment. I pull away, and relief and hurt war in her gaze. I climb off the bed. With one hand, I grab hers and yank her onto her feet while the other grabs my IV pole. I tow both of them behind me as I make a beeline for the bathroom.
“Jandro?”
“Shh.”
She bends as best she can to pull her pants up enough to make it easier for her to walk. I allow that, but I’m soon guiding her into the smaller room and shutting the door behind us.
“Strip.”
“We can’t.”
I’m standing behind her, and we’re looking at each other in the mirror. However, her refusal prompts me to step to her right. I yank the pants down before my right hand presses between her shoulder blades. My arm is too sore to do more than place light pressure, but she knows what I want. She leans forward. My left arm is unimpaired, so I bring my hand down across her ass.
“I will have what’s mine,chica. I told you the best treatment is you. Are you going to deny me what’ll cure me?”
“Daddy, don’t?—”
“Whatever you’re about to say will only lead to more spankings.”
I’m raining them down as I speak. With each one, her hips bump into the sink, but the moment my hand retreats, she pushes her ass back to chase it. She wants this, but she’s denying it because of guilt. She believes she should think this is wrong, but she doesn’t. Her body tells me what her mind won’t.
“You know you want my cum on your thighs as we fall asleep. You want to feel me explode inside you because I can’t get enough of you. That I’ll never get my fill. You want to come because I’m the one touching you, filling you.”
“But you’re hurt.”
“The injuries are inconvenient, but they aren’t life threatening. I’ve endured far worse and come out the other side. If you truly refuse, say so now.”
We stare at each other for a moment before she shakes her head.
“Does that mean you refuse or you don’t refuse? You have to say it out loud,chiquita.”
