by Julia Sykes
We had to make her understand that wasn’t how we worked.
“My feelings about you haven’t changed because you kissed Marco,” Joseph told her. “I’m happy you want to be with him, too. Don’t you care for him?”
“I…” She bit her lip against the admission. She still thought it was wrong, a betrayal to Joseph.
“Tell us the truth,” he prompted in a deeper tone that made her shiver.
“Yes,” she breathed.
He trailed his fingers through her hair, and she leaned into his touch.
“Look at Marco, and tell him how you feel.”
Her sapphire eyes met mine. They were still dark with confusion, but she uttered the words that made my heart squeeze.
“I care about you, Marco. I thought I was scared of you, but I’m not. Not really.”
I nodded. “So, you understand? We both need you, Ashlyn. We’ll never get jealous or fight over you. We’re supposed to be together. The three of us.”
“Don’t you want that, angel?” Joseph asked, coaxing.
She nodded, still too shy to give voice to her secret longings.
“I need to hear you say it,” I told her. “Tell us you want us.”
She licked her lips. “I want you,” she whispered. “Both of you.”
I finally allowed myself to close the distance between us. I wrapped my hand around her nape and bent down to crush my lips against hers. She was soft under my mouth, pliant. She shuddered and opened for me, welcoming me. I kissed her until she sagged into Joseph’s waiting arms.
When she was trembling and gasping for breath, I finally released her.
“I think it’s time to punish our naughty girl,” I told Joseph.
“Past time,” he agreed.
“What are you—” Before she could finish her question, Joseph had her over his lap.
She tried to kick out, flailing in surprise more than struggling to be free. Joseph caught her wrists and pinned them at the small of her back before settling his other arm around the backs of her knees, effectively ending her struggles.
“What are you doing?” she panted.
I stepped in front of her so she could watch me unbuckle my belt. I took it off slowly, allowing the leather to whisper against my jeans.
Her wide eyes fixed on my movements, and she licked her lips. My cock throbbed, but now wasn’t the time to explore the silky heat of her mouth.
“You shouldn’t have tried to run away, princess,” I told her. “You put yourself in danger. You were hurt. We can’t allow that kind of behavior.”
I doubled the belt over and touched the leather beneath her chin, lifting her face so she had no choice but to stare up into my eyes.
“We’re going to punish you because we care about you. We care enough to correct your rash behavior. You want that, don’t you?”
“I don’t want you to hurt me,” she said, her voice small.
“This is going to sting, babygirl.” I wouldn’t lie to her. This was going to smart, and she’d be sore for a little while after. “You’re going to feel the heat of our discipline. I’m not going to beat you, but I am going to teach you a lesson.”
Joseph peeled her pants down her thighs, exposing her pert ass. He dipped two fingers between her legs, testing her pussy.
“You’re wet, angel,” he told her, his voice husky with his own lust. “You want Marco to punish you while I hold you down.”
“But why?” she asked, her eyes tight with confusion. “I don’t understand why I’m like this. It’s wrong.”
“It’s not wrong,” I countered firmly, increasing the pressure of the belt beneath her chin to keep her attention on me. “There’s nothing wrong about the connection we share. I’m going to give you five lashes for trying to run away from us. I think you’re ready for that. If you’re not, say the word now, and everything will stop.”
She stared up at me, and I watched her emotions flicker over her lovely face: doubt, embarrassment, longing.
She was ready.
“Okay, babygirl. Take a deep breath.”
She obeyed, and I withdrew the belt from her chin. I laid the leather flat on her exposed ass, letting her feel its cool caress. Joseph took a few more seconds to stroke her pussy, making her squirm.
Our eyes met in silent communication, and Joseph nodded his agreement that she was prepared. He moved his hand out of my way and braced his arm behind her knees again. She was trapped, locked safely in place for my discipline. Joseph wouldn’t let her flinch or wiggle away, and I didn’t have to worry about any of my blows landing in the wrong place.
I let the first lick fall, and the pop of the leather against her skin mingled with her sharp cry. A bright red line bloomed across her bottom, contrasting with her creamy flesh.
“That hurt,” she gasped out, her voice catching.
“It’s supposed to hurt, princess. You were a naughty girl, and you have to learn your lesson. Four more.”
I let the second hit land, and she squealed. She jerked in Joseph’s arms, but he held her fast. I lashed her a third time, putting a little more force behind the belt. She didn’t make any sound at all for a second, then a long wail left her chest.
“Just two more,” I told her smoothly, reassuring her. “You can cry if you need to.”
A harsh sob made her small body shudder. The sight of her tears didn’t upset me. She needed this. She needed the correction, the attention, the affection. Because even though I was causing her a little pain, I was taking her in hand to protect her.
I landed the last two lashes in quick succession, spreading out the sting. She shrieked, and her back arched as her muscles tensed for a moment. Then, she went limp against Joseph, her head dropping forward as her tears dripped down onto the sheets.
I let my belt fall from my fingers and held out my arms. Joseph passed her to me, and I cradled her against my chest as I settled down on the edge of the bed. I cuddled her close and kissed the wetness on her cheeks. She didn’t shudder or shy away from me. She tucked her face against my neck, and her fingers curled into my shirt.
Warmth expanded in my chest. I’d been right about her from the very beginning. Ashlyn might have given herself to Joseph a long time ago, but she was meant for me, too. She was mine. Ours.
Our sweet little girl.
Chapter Seventeen
Ashlyn
“Why did Joseph have to leave?” I asked as I sat down at the kitchen island. I winced when my sore bottom settled onto the padded stool, but the discomfort was accompanied by a rush of heat between my legs.
I still didn’t understand why I was like this, and I’d wanted to talk to both of them more. But after my tears had dried, Joseph regretfully told me he had to leave me with Marco for the day.
Just last week, the thought of being alone with Marco would have made me anxious. Now, he still made me a little nervous, but I craved more time with him. I wanted to understand him better. I wanted to understand what was happening between us better.
Us. The three of us. Joseph, Marco, and me.
I could still barely wrap my head around it. This was… Well, Marco had told me it wasn’t wrong. But it was certainly unconventional, to say the least.
How could I have feelings for two men at the same time? And how could they possibly be okay with that?
Marco had promised that they wouldn’t get jealous, that they wanted to be with me. At the same time.
The memory of their hands holding me down—Marco kissing me while Joseph licked my pussy and fingered my ass—made me flush, and not with shame.
I’d been a fool to try to run away without giving them the chance to explain. And even though my bottom smarted from Marco’s belt, I felt more centered and at peace than I had since I’d arrived at his estate. I’d spent weeks skirting around Marco, hiding behind Joseph. I’d told myself he frightened me, but I was actually scared of the dark chemistry we shared.
I still didn’t fully understand it, but that didn’t cha
“Joseph’s father asked to meet with him,” Marco answered my question as he made his way to the refrigerator. “They need to talk business.”
“Oh.” My heart sank a little. I couldn’t help caring for both Joseph and Marco, but the reminder that Joseph had other responsibilities shattered the illusion of my happy little reality. No matter what he wanted for his life, he was still part of the criminal underworld. And so was Marco.
“What’s wrong, babygirl?”
I blinked and focused on Marco again. I didn’t want to bring up their violent lifestyle, not when I knew there was nothing they could do about it. At least, not right now. Joseph had made it clear that he wanted out, that he wanted to go back to Cambridge with me when the danger had passed. I hoped Marco would feel the same, because I didn’t want to leave him behind, either.
“Why do you call me that?” I asked instead of telling him what was really bothering me.
“Because you’re my girl, and I want to take care of you.”
“Is that why…” I blushed, but I pressed on. “Is that why you want me to call you Daddy?”
He nodded. “Exactly. I don’t just want you to be my girlfriend, Ashlyn. What I want is so much more than that: a deeper bond. I know this is new for you, but I want to show you what that means. I have a special day planned for us.”
“What did you have in mind?” I fiddled with my fingernails, feeling suddenly nervous. So far, Marco had spanked me and whipped me with his belt. “Are you going to punish me again? Because I’m sorry for trying to run away. I really am.”
“I know you are, princess. And no, I’m not going to punish you again. Not unless you decide to be very naughty. I know your bottom is sore right now, and I don’t want to discipline you again so soon. What I do want is to take care of you, in the way I need to. I want you to let me.”
“But what does that mean?” I liked the idea of Marco taking care of me—his affection for me was like nothing I’d ever known. Joseph had been obsessed with me from the very beginning of our relationship. He’d wanted me to belong to him, to submit to him. I understood that now.
But Marco wanted something different from me. Something dark and strange. Something that made me tremble, even as my entire body heated for him.
“I’m your Daddy. I’ll show you what it means. All you need to do is be a good girl and do as you’re told.”
“What if I don’t want to do what I’m told?”
He gave me a lopsided grin that made my heart melt. How had it taken me so long to appreciate how handsome he was? Joseph might be gorgeous, but Marco possessed his own dark beauty.
“You can pout all you want, princess. It’s adorable, but it won’t get you anywhere with me. You’ll do as you’re told, because it’ll make me happy. And you want to make Daddy happy, don’t you?”
I mulled that over. It was weird, unlike anything I’d ever heard of.
But of course I wanted Marco to be happy. I craved his pleasure, his smile.
“Yes,” I agreed. “I want you to be happy, Marco.”
“Daddy,” he corrected me.
My cheeks flamed, but the words left my lips without a second thought. “I want you to be happy, Daddy.”
His brilliant grin knocked the air from my chest. “That’s my sweet girl.”
I returned his smile, giddy excitement flooding my system. I liked when he spoke to me with such warm approval.
Marco started gathering what he needed from the fridge to make lunch.
“You don’t have to make all my meals.” I’d let him make every meal for me since I’d arrived. I hadn’t lifted a finger to help. And while I wasn’t much of a cook, I suddenly felt guilty for taking Marco for granted.
He shot me a warning look. “I want to, and don’t let me hear you say another word about it. I told you: I’m going to take care of you today. Let me.”
“Okay.” I felt a little useless, sitting here while he worked. So, I passed the short span of time by watching his bulky muscles flex and shift as he moved. His tight black shirt did little to hide his physique, and his dark jeans hugged his ass perfectly.
I was practically drooling by the time he sat down beside me, placing a single plate between us. The sandwich was stuffed with enough pastrami for two people, and he’d provided far more hummus and carrot sticks than I could eat by myself.
“Where’s yours?” I asked, puzzled.
“This is for both of us.”
“Oh.” I still didn’t understand why we were sharing off one plate, but he’d cut the sandwich down the middle, so I supposed there was enough food for both of us.
I reached for my half, but he caught my wrist and directed my hand back to my lap. He picked up a carrot stick and dipped it in the hummus before lifting it to my mouth.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Taking care of you. Open up, babygirl.”
“I can feed myself.”
“Of course you can. But I want to feed you today. Now, be a good girl for Daddy and eat your vegetables.”
This was weird. It made me uncomfortable and hot and tingly.
My lips parted, and the salty hummus touched my tongue. The carrot crunched beneath my teeth, sweet mingling with salt.
Marco’s smile hit me square in the chest. I’d never seen him like this: proud and pleased in a way I couldn’t fully comprehend.
Even though I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it, I basked in his pleasure. If allowing him to feed me felt this good, why fight it?
Marco watched me intently as I ate every bite he brought to my lips, his eyes darkening and his lids growing heavy as I complied. He even held my glass of water to my lips, insisting that I drink intermittently. He needed me to do as he told me. I could see it in the way his lips curved with satisfaction when I obeyed.
His pleasure was catching. By the time I finished my lunch, my body felt strangely light, and I was grinning like a fool. I didn’t have a care or worry in my head, because Marco was taking care of me.
He held my hand while he ate his own share of our meal, as though he couldn’t bear to break contact with me.
I didn’t want him to, either.
When he polished off the last of the food, he cleaned up the plate and came back to me. He held out his hand, waiting for me to wrap my fingers around his. I did so without hesitation, and he led me to the media room.
Well, he called it the media room. It was more like an in-home theater. The massive screen took up one wall, and the plush sectional couch could have easily seated ten people.
He sat in one corner of the couch, propping back against it while he stretched his legs out in front of him. I moved to sit beside him, but he shifted my body with his sure, strong hands. When he was finished moving me into position, I laid on my side, stretched out beside him with my head resting on his thighs.
He stroked my hair with one hand and picked up the remote with the other.
Tears filled my eyes when the movie started. Nostalgia and affection for Marco swelled.
The Last Unicorn.
“You remembered,” I murmured.
“Of course I did. Now hush, and watch the movie.”
He continued stroking my hair, his fingers playing through the silken strands in a hypnotic rhythm. As I sank into relaxation, he rubbed my scalp and my nape in a light massage. I melted against him, humming in contentment as the familiar story played out on the screen.
By the time the credits rolled, I felt even lighter than I had after lunch. I’d thought my dynamic with Marco was complicated, but being with him like this was so simple. Easy. I didn’t have to stress or make any hard decisions. I didn’t have to worry about my responsibilities or what anyone expected of me.
All that mattered was what Marco expected of me, and that was to be good for him and let him take care of me.
I rolled onto my back and looked up at him. He practically radiated contentment, and he continued stroking me.
“Why am I like this?” I asked him. “I mean, I like what we’re doing. But it’s not normal, is it?” I wasn’t concerned about it anymore. I was curious.
“Does it matter if it’s normal? Does it matter what other people think, if this makes both of us happy?”
“I guess not. I still don’t understand, though.”
His hand stilled in my hair for a moment. “Tell me about your relationship with your parents.”
I flinched; the question punctured my happy little bubble.
He resumed petting me. “We don’t have to talk about this now, but if you want to understand, it would help if I knew more about your upbringing.”
“There’s not much to talk about,” I hedged.
A small frown tugged at his lips. “Don’t hide from me,” he warned. “I know your father never responded to your email about taking time off from college. I know you didn’t message your mother at all. Are you estranged from your parents?”
I tried to turn my face away, but his fingers tightened in my hair, trapping me beneath his incisive gaze.
“My dad loves me.” Even I could hear how defensive I sounded. “He just has high expectations. He wants me to succeed.”
“He puts a lot of pressure on you,” Marco read the truth in my words. “You’re obviously intelligent and hardworking. You wouldn’t have been accepted at Harvard, otherwise. Does your father tell you he’s proud of you?”
“No,” I whispered. “Not really.” It was expected that I would work hard and do well, so there was no need for positive reinforcement when I succeeded. There was only a need for censure when I failed.
“And what about your mother?”
“We don’t really talk.”
“Why not?” he pressed, not willing to let me stop there.
My eyes stung. “Well, my parents divorced when I was eight. My mother moved to Chicago for her career, and she decided it was best for me to stay with Dad. She works crazy hours.” A lump formed in my throat, but I continued. “Then, she met someone new. She got remarried and started a new family in Chicago. She forgot about me in Savannah.”
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