Impact (Suncoast Society #32)(59)

Cris numbly nodded. He barely tasted what he ate and when he finished, Landry took his plate for him and put it in the dishwasher. Returning to the couch, Landry held his hands out to them. “Come along, pets. Let’s go.”

He and Tilly reached up and let Landry lead them back to their bedroom.





Tilly had finished her budget analysis while Loren had fixed dinner for her. So by the time her men had arrived home, she was ready to do nothing more than curl up with them and let her brain downshift into neutral.

Yes, she’d had more difficult weeks in her life, but this one had quickly nudged its way into the top ten, for sure.

It could always be worse.

That was something she repeated to herself. Easier thought than absorbed, however.

No matter how she tried, she couldn’t evict her final image of Sofia from her mind, of the woman in handcuffs, being led away.

Never to return.

The way she’d looked back at the baby one last time.

She wasn’t supposed to die. She was supposed to get her shit together after learning a damned hard lesson, work her ass off to earn Tilly’s respect and trust, and then be able to if not raise her daughter, at least be an active part of her life under Tilly’s careful supervision.

She never really wanted the woman gone.

Tilly knew she would carry that guilt for the rest of her life.

Cris hurt, too. Not just because Sofia was his cousin, but because he felt responsible for the custody battle. Landry had told her that much upon his return home. She’d thought it odd that he hadn’t changed clothes right away, gotten comfortable as was his usual routine, but then when he led them to the bedroom, she understood the plan.

He was going to give Cris a little TLC first.

With the bedroom door shut behind them, Landry turned to them. “All right pets, get naked. Tilly, take your collar off. Group shower.”

She’d already had a quick shower when she got home, but she didn’t argue. She caught her revving mind, forced it into neutral again, and followed Landry’s orders.

It was all she wanted to do.





Chapter Twenty


Landry worried more about Cris at this point than he did Tilly. He’d been texting with Loren all day about Tilly. While she was under a lot of stress, obviously, she seemed to be slowly adjusting.

Cris, he suspected, neared breaking. While it wouldn’t take them long to fully convince Tilly she was in no way responsible for the current series of events, Cris would need some stronger convincing.

Technically, Cris was to blame for bringing the custody battle about. Not deliberately, and Landry wouldn’t fault him for it. He hadn’t meant to cause it, had no reasonable reason to believe it would have triggered one.

Although reasonable wasn’t exactly in the top fifty list of words Landry would use to describe the Guerrero family in general.

After their shower, where Landry took time to soap both his pets up—teasing them in the process—Landry helped them dry off before he put their leather collars on them again and led them, naked, to the bed.

“Over the end, side by side, feet on the floor,” he ordered as he headed for the closet.

They obeyed, without hesitation.

He returned with the cane. Tilly wasn’t fond of the cane, but for today he would use it on her, albeit not nearly as severely as he’d use it on Cris.

Landry wasted no time. He pinned Cris to the bed by the collar, his left hand against the back of Cris’ neck. “I think my boy needs a long, hard cry,” he said. “You’ve tried to stay too strong for too long and forgot you can lean on both of us.” That said, he immediately took the first stroke.

Cris winced, but he didn’t cry out.

After the fifth stroke, even harder than the others, Cris fisted the sheets.

Landry’s heart soared when Tilly reached over and laced fingers with Cris, shifting positions to nuzzle her head close to his.

Good.

He stepped up the pace and strength of the strokes, raising angry red welts on the man’s flesh until, finally, he saw the first shudders shake Cris’ body.

He eased up, going faster but far lighter, barely stingy. It didn’t matter. Now that the wall had been breached, Cris was crying, pouring out his emotional pain as the physical pain set in.

Something Landry had been sadly used to in the days and weeks following the death of Cris’ father.

Something Tilly hadn’t had to witness with Cris.

Landry didn’t know how many strokes he gave Cris before he finally stopped, stroking his hand over the lines marking Cris’ ass and upper thighs. It took several more minutes until Cris’ sobs finally eased and his breathing settled into a deep, regular rhythm.

“Such a good boy,” Landry said. “And now, for my Redbird.”

She tensed, but when she realized he wasn’t going to give her the caning Cris had taken, she relaxed into it. Now Cris nuzzled her, squeezed her hand as Landry adjusted his strokes until she finally started crying.

Landry immediately set the cane aside and folded his body over hers, lacing his fingers through her other hand and waiting her out.

Once she, too, had settled, Landry urged them up onto the bed and had her face Cris.

He switched to French. “Would you like to f*ck our beautiful Redbird, boy?”

Cris was still deep in subspace. “Yes, Master. Please.”