War of Hearts

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War of Hearts Page 11

by Julia Sykes


  I tucked her hair behind her ear, and she didn’t flinch away from my touch.

  “You’re doing so well, babygirl. So sweet, trusting me to take care of you.”

  “But you’re spanking me,” she whispered. She still didn’t understand her feelings. Deep in her heart, she knew this was a form of caretaking. But her feminist sensibilities were telling her this was wrong.

  “I am.” I trailed my fingers through her hair. “And you’re being so good for me. Are you sorry you disrespected me?”

  She nodded, and I saw the truth in her eyes: she really meant it. She wasn’t lying to get out of further punishment.

  “We’ll make it five, then,” I conceded. “Just this once. But don’t expect me to go soft on you every time. Consistency is important, and know that I’ll always follow through.”

  She nodded again, accepting.

  My cock jerked toward her, my balls aching. I bit back a groan and focused on what I needed to do.

  “Two more, and then I want to hear you apologize,” I told her.

  “But I am sorry,” she said softly.

  I gave her a small smile. “I know you are. Two more. Don’t forget to count.”

  I slapped her twice in quick succession, hard and precise. She shrieked and squirmed, trying to move away from the sting I’d inflicted.

  “Four,” she gasped. “Five.”

  “Such a good girl. Are you ready to apologize?”

  “I’m sorry.” She tucked her face against her arm again, her cheeks as red as her ass.

  I clicked my tongue at her, calling her attention back to me. I rested my hand against her bottom, letting her feel the warning.

  “Look me in the eye, and tell me again.”

  Her gorgeous eyes met mine. They were no longer clouded with confusion, but they shone with tears. I hadn’t spanked her hard enough to make her cry. These tears were cathartic, and I’d never seen anything so beautiful.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Daddy,” I prompted, lightly squeezing her ass.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.” She mumbled the words, still embarrassed by what was happening.

  I pressed a kiss against her forehead. “I forgive you. I think my good girl has earned a reward. Are you wet for me, princess?”

  She didn’t answer, but I knew the truth before I dipped my fingers between her legs. I could already smell her arousal, and when I touched her inner thighs, I found her soaking wet for me.

  I growled my satisfaction and kissed her forehead again. “Come for Daddy, princess.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Of course you can. You’re dripping all over Daddy’s hand.”

  She shook her head, but I read the need in her wide eyes.

  “You don’t have to be scared, babygirl. I’m right here. I’ve got you. And I want you to give me a nice, big orgasm.”

  I rubbed my thumb over her hard little clit, and she cried out. I still had her wrists pinned to the wall above her head, but she didn’t try to escape. Instead, she rotated her hips toward my touch, seeking more stimulation.

  I obliged her, easing two fingers into her tight cunt. She whimpered as I filled her, and when I found the sensitive spot at the front of her inner walls, a shudder wracked her body.

  “Come for me,” I urged, coaxing rather than ordering. She was vulnerable, still confused by her reaction to me and the connection between us.

  I curled my fingers against her g-spot and rubbed her clit with my thumb. She shattered on a scream, and her pussy gripped my fingers. If my cock had been inside her, it would have been enough to make me lose all control. As it was, the sight of her squirming on my hand while she rode out her orgasm was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced. It took effort to prevent myself from coming in my pants.

  I wanted her. I wanted to take her, fuck her, make her mine.

  But she wasn’t ready for that. If I fucked her right now, I’d be taking advantage of her in a vulnerable state. I needed her fully aware and consenting before I could use her body the way I wanted to.

  When she started to whine from sensitivity, I withdrew my hand. I lifted my wet fingers to my lips and sucked them clean. She tasted every bit as decadent as I’d dreamed. And the way she watched my crude behavior with those wide, doe eyes…

  Fuck.

  I released her hands and spun her around to face me. My fingers sank into her hair, tipping her head back so I could capture her lips with mine. She opened for me on a shocked gasp, and I thrust my tongue inside her hot mouth, allowing myself to show her how I wanted to drive my cock into her pretty pussy.

  Her hands came up to press against my chest, but she wasn’t pushing me away. She softened against me, allowing me to deepen the kiss. I knew she could taste her wet desire that lingered on my tongue from when I’d cleaned my fingers, but she didn’t pull away in disgust. She allowed me to claim her with possessive strokes. I kissed her without finesse, taking what I so desperately needed from her.

  I’d known I wanted her from the moment I saw her. But when I heard my name on her lips—Daddy—I was lost. I’d do anything for her, fall at her feet and worship her, just like Joseph did.

  She was mine, my perfect little princess.

  Now, I just had to convince Joseph to make her his dirty little angel.

  I’d been right: Ashlyn was made for us. Both of us.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ashlyn

  Shock blanked my mind. I couldn’t think, couldn’t process what I’d done. What I’d allowed Marco to do to me. He’d finally freed me from his possessive kiss, and he was holding me tight against his chest. My face was tucked against him, my cheeks still burning.

  I realized my fingers were fisted in his shirt, clinging to him like I had when he protected me in the car last night.

  I forced them to unfurl. My stomach dropped when I released him, but I ignored the sensation.

  “I…” I swallowed and tried to collect my thoughts. “I need to take a shower.”

  Yes. That sounded like a good idea. The evidence of my orgasm was slick on my thighs, and I needed to clean up. I needed to erase the evidence.

  My stomach knotted, and I shied away from my budding realization of the horrible betrayal I’d just committed.

  He kissed the top of my head. “Okay, babygirl. Take a shower. You can study after, and I’ll bring you lunch in a little while.”

  I nodded, numbness setting in.

  He finally released me from his strong arms, and goosebumps pebbled my skin at the loss of his heat.

  “Go on,” he prompted when I didn’t move.

  I moved quickly, tearing myself away from him, like ripping off a Band-Aid. I rushed to the bathroom and closed the door behind me to put a barrier between us.

  Moving on auto-pilot, I removed my clothes and turned on the shower. I kept the water little more than lukewarm. My body was hot, flushed from my orgasm. I needed to cool off.

  Orgasm. I’d come all over Marco’s hand, driven to the height of pleasure by his deep voice and demanding touch. I’d felt small in his grip, helpless to resist him.

  But the awful truth was I hadn’t been helpless. He hadn’t violated me against my will. I might have been confused by what was happening, but I’d still been an active participant.

  I’d kissed him back.

  After he made me come. After he spanked me. After he made me call him Daddy.

  Shame rolled through me.

  I cheated on Joseph. I cheated on Joseph with his best friend.

  The thought was enough to make my stomach lurch, and nausea curled up my throat. I took a deep breath through my nose and suppressed the urge to vomit.

  I locked down my roiling emotions before they could rise. I couldn’t cope with the enormity of what I’d done. The weight of my betrayal would crush my heart if I faced it.

  Take a shower. You can study after. Marco’s words echoed in my head, perversely comforting. If I just did what he’d told me to do, I could zone out and
continue to exist for a little while longer. Once Joseph returned to me, I’d have to confess my horrific sin, and my heart would shatter.

  After he’d opened up to me about his crimes this morning, about the man who had died because of his actions, I’d been ready to trust him again. I’d been ready to say I love you.

  Now, that was ruined. How could I possibly tell him I loved him when I’d just cheated with Marco?

  I shuddered and turned up the heat of the water. My skin was suddenly far too chilled.

  I stayed in the shower for a long time, allowing the scalding water to beat down on me until I couldn’t stand it anymore.

  When I was dry and dressed in fresh clothes, I moved back out into the bedroom and settled myself at the desk. I opened the notes my classmate had uploaded for me. Marco had printed them out—I still hadn’t been granted access to the internet, even though I’d been allowed to write a few more emails to Jayme. My father hadn’t even deigned to reply to my first message about taking time off from school, so there had been no need to send him any more emails.

  I shied away from that fresh layer of pain. My heart couldn’t take it.

  I was letting down everyone I loved. I was a failure, a traitor. A disappointment.

  I swiped away a stray tear and focused on the notes, trying to absorb the information. If I could just succeed at academics, maybe I could at least win my father’s affection back.

  For hours, I stared at the pages before me, slowly flipping through them before backtracking to try to actually read the words I’d been glossing over.

  I jolted when the bedroom door opened. Marco hadn’t bothered to knock.

  I didn’t look at him, but I could feel his approach. He set down a glass of water and a plated grilled cheese sandwich beside my notes.

  “Eat your lunch, princess. You didn’t have enough eggs earlier. I know you must be hungry.”

  I nodded, a rote motion. I wasn’t hungry. I was just… empty.

  He tucked my hair behind my ear, and I flinched. He withdrew slowly. I could feel the weight of his eyes considering me, but I kept my gaze glued to my notes.

  He sighed. “I’ll be back for that plate in half an hour. I expect it to be empty. Do you understand?”

  He was using that authoritative tone again. So, I nodded my agreement.

  Another beat of heavy silence passed before his footsteps retreated. Moving as though in a dream, I ate the sandwich. It was perfect; just crispy enough, with at least four types of gooey cheese inside. The flavors were comforting, and I devoured the whole thing in a matter of minutes without thinking.

  When I was finished, I drained the glass of water and went back to staring at my notes.

  Marco came to retrieve the plate a while later. His murmured “good girl” made a thread of warmth curl in my chest, but it did little to ease the chill inside.

  Time passed. I went through the notes again, flipping the pages every few minutes to give myself something to do.

  I didn’t realize that night was falling until Marco came and flipped on the light. I blinked against the sudden illumination, but I kept my eyes downcast when he approached with a plate of lasagna.

  “When you’re finished, brush your teeth and get ready for bed,” he ordered.

  It seemed early for that, but I wasn’t really doing anything, anyway. Sleep sounded like a good idea.

  I nodded again.

  I did as he instructed, and a while later, my mouth tasted minty fresh as I tucked myself under the duvet. The silky pink nightgown Joseph had bought for me glided across my skin as I moved, but I barely registered the decadent sensation. I closed my eyes and drifted, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness.

  Sometime later, the soft click of the bedside lamp turning on roused me. I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes to find Joseph looking down at me, a small smile curving his sensual lips.

  “Hey, angel. I missed you.”

  A harsh sob tore from my chest, and I turned my face into the pillow. I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t confess what I’d done. I couldn’t lose him.

  He shushed me gently and sat on the bed beside me. His strong arms closed around me, lifting me so I rested against his chest. He rubbed his hand up and down my back, trying to soothe me.

  Once I confessed, he would never hold me again. I sobbed harder, clinging to him.

  “I’m sorry,” I forced out. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he said gently, continuing to stroke and comfort me. “You’re okay. Don’t cry, angel.”

  “But I… You don’t know…” I choked on the words, unable to voice the depth of my betrayal.

  “Marco told me what happened. It’s okay.”

  My next sob caught in my throat. I blinked hard to clear my tears away. I peered up at him to read his expression.

  “What?” I asked thickly.

  He smoothed my hair back from my forehead. “It’s okay,” he said again. “I know what happened, and it’s okay.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t understand,” I said, each word causing pain to knife through my chest. “I kissed him back.”

  “I know. And I’m not upset with you, angel.”

  My breath stuttered. I could hardly dare to believe it. “So, you don’t… You don’t hate me? You forgive me?”

  How could it be so easy? If Joseph had touched another woman, I’d be heartbroken.

  “Of course I don’t hate you. There’s nothing to forgive.”

  My brow furrowed. I didn’t understand. How could he not care? He’d been so fiercely possessive of me when we’d first met. He still was. I could feel it in the desperate way he kissed me.

  “You aren’t angry?”

  Impossibly, he gave me a dazzling smile. “You make me very happy, angel.”

  “So, you… You still want to be with me?”

  “Always,” he promised. “We want to be with you. Both of us.”

  My heart fluttered. Surely, I hadn’t heard him correctly. “Both of you?” My question was little more than a squeak.

  He nodded. “Both of us. Marco and me.”

  “But I can’t… That’s not…” I stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence. I couldn’t even formulate a coherent thought. I was suddenly far too hot in Joseph’s arms.

  “I told you I was right about her.” Marco’s voice rumbled over me, drawing my attention like a magnet. “Look at that pretty blush.”

  He stood in the doorway, watching me intently.

  Joseph’s fingers trailed over my heated cheek, and electricity danced across my skin. My body hummed with awareness. I could feel Marco’s presence as keenly as I could feel Joseph’s physical touch.

  “You were right,” Joseph agreed with him. “I should have listened.”

  My head was spinning, and I felt oddly disconnected from my thoughts. Everything was surreal, as though this was a strange dream.

  “But I cheated on you,” I told Joseph on a pained whisper.

  “It’s not like that with Marco and me,” he said, bizarrely calm. “I’m happy that you opened up to Marco.”

  I stared at him, disbelieving. I must have drifted off, after all, because this couldn’t be reality.

  “Kiss her, Joseph,” Marco commanded. “She doesn’t believe you. Show her how you feel.”

  My gaze redirected to Joseph, gauging his reaction to being ordered around by Marco in this strange way.

  Joseph’s aquamarine eyes burned with lust, and he leaned in to capture my lips with his.

  Definitely a dream, I decided. There was no way Joseph would forgive me for cheating on him with Marco, and he certainly wouldn’t kiss me like I was the most precious thing in his world. He held me carefully, cradling me in his arms as his mouth caressed mine.

  I decided to relax into the pleasant fantasy my mind had conjured. I tipped my head back, welcoming him to claim me more deeply. When his tongue swept into my mouth, I moaned in relief.

  He doesn’t hate me. At least, this
dream version of Joseph didn’t hate me.

  A big hand closed around mine.

  Marco. I recognized the feel of him now: his palms were slightly rougher than Joseph’s, his fingers thicker.

  He used his gentle grip on my hand to guide my touch. My palm rasped against jeans, and I gasped into Joseph’s mouth. I was familiar with this, too: the feel of his hard cock straining toward me.

  “Feel how much he wants you,” Marco said. “Feel how much he wants this. How much he wants us. Together. All of us.”

  Joseph’s cock jerked beneath my hand, and he groaned against me. His fist tangled in my hair, and his teeth nipped at my lower lip, lighting up my nerve endings with a little hit of pain.

  “That’s it,” Marco urged, his voice like dark velvet. “Stop treating her like she’s made of glass. She can take it. She can take both of us.”

  I shuddered in Joseph’s arms, erotic tension rolling through me with visceral force. My pussy was wet and throbbing for attention, and he’d barely touched me.

  They’d barely touched me.

  Oh, god.

  They were both touching me. Joseph and Marco.

  And this didn’t feel like a dream.

  This was wrong. Marco shouldn’t be here. I was supposed to belong to Joseph.

  But Marco didn’t give me time to think about protesting.

  “I want to see her,” he said. “All of her. Show me our girl, Joseph.”

  Joseph’s hold on me shifted, and he guided me down onto my back. As soon as he broke our kiss, my thoughts became a little more rational. If I wasn’t dreaming, then I had to stop this. I had to stop them. I couldn’t betray Joseph. Not again.

  I propped up on my elbows, bracing myself to scoot away.

  Marco’s hands closed around my shoulders at the same time as Joseph’s hands gripped my bare thighs, and they both pushed me back down.

  A part of my mind told me to struggle, to do what was right. But my body went oddly supple, my muscles melting under their firm touch. My eyes practically rolled back in my head as pleasure rushed through me. My heart pounded in my chest, and my pussy wept with my arousal. I’d never imagined it was possible to be this turned on. I ached deep inside, craving more.

 

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