The Daddy and the Dom

by Julia Sykes

  “No. Just kiss it.”

  For a moment, I didn’t understand why he didn’t want me to take him into my mouth. When I’d been with boys in the past, they’d wanted me to suck them off.

  But Marco didn’t want that. He wanted me to worship him first.

  “That’s it,” he grunted as I began to slide my lips along his length, gliding my tongue against the underside. “Show Daddy how much you love his cock.”

  “Marco,” Joseph snarled. His fingers curved into my hips, and his cock pressed against my wet entrance.

  Marco tugged me back with his hold on my hair. “That was good, babygirl. But I think Joseph’s waited long enough. I’m going to fuck your mouth while he stretches your tight little pussy. I want to feel you moaning around my dick. Open up.”

  My lips parted, and he slid inside my mouth. As his thick cock rubbed along my tongue, Joseph eased into my pussy. I whined as he entered me. With the plug stretching my ass, I felt almost unbearably full. It didn’t hurt, but it was… intense.

  “You feel that, angel?” Joseph asked, his voice tight with the effort of holding himself back. “It’s going to feel even better when Marco is in your sweet pussy, and I’m inside your ass. We’re going to fill you up and fuck you together. We’re going to make you scream and come so hard you can’t walk the next day. Your body, your pleasure, they belong to us. You belong to us.”

  Marco pressed in farther, nearing the back of my throat. “Ours,” he agreed, staring down at me. I suppressed my gag reflex, letting him in deeper. He groaned. “Fuck, babygirl. Fuck.” His grip on my hair eased, and he started petting me. “Such a good girl. You make Daddy so happy.”

  I moaned around his cock as bliss suffused my system. Carnally, I was overwhelmed by sensation, but it was their words of pleasure and praise that sent me soaring.

  He jerked inside my mouth, and he cursed again.

  “Fuck her, Joseph,” he ground out. “I can’t take much more.”

  Joseph’s hands firmed on my hips, and he thrust in hard, filling me to the hilt. He pressed against the base of the plug, driving it deeper into my ass. I cried out, and Marco growled as the sound tormented his dick. He kept one hand in my hair and reached beneath me with the other. I’d almost forgotten how sensitive my breasts had become with the rope still binding them, and I shrieked in shock when his fingers brushed over my aching nipples. Joseph fingered my clit at the same time, and my climax claimed me with ruthless force.

  Mindlessly, I rocked back against Joseph while I sucked Marco’s cock. My inner muscles squeezed Joseph, and my scream vibrated down Marco’s length. My ecstasy triggered theirs. Marco pressed deep into my throat, and I swallowed. His cum released into my mouth, just before Joseph’s seed lashed into my pussy. I was marked, taken, owned.

  The knowledge kept me riding high, and I floated on bliss as Joseph continued to drive into me, riding out the last of his orgasm.

  Marco pulled out of my mouth, and I collapsed onto the mattress, gasping for breath. My sensitive breasts came into contact with the smooth sheets, and I whimpered. I couldn’t manage to move my weight off them, so I simply trembled and rode out the pleasure that was coursing through me.

  “Poor little princess,” Marco cooed, smoothing my hair back from my cheek. “Let’s get you out of Joseph’s ropes.”

  He left me for a moment to get something from the kit bag. When he returned, he held a pair of blunt-tipped shears. He cut through the rope and uncoiled it from my body. Joseph pulled out of me and gently removed the plug. He went to the bathroom, and I heard running water before he returned a minute later.

  Marco put the shears away, and Joseph rolled me onto my back. He stared down at me with awe, and he trailed his fingers along the little braided indentations the rope had left in my skin.

  “So beautiful,” he breathed.

  “Yes,” Marco agreed, joining us on the bed again.

  They held me between their hard bodies, cuddling me close. I smiled and closed my eyes, sinking into bliss as they petted and praised me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ashlyn

  Two Weeks Later

  * * *

  “I don’t like this,” Marco said, his face tight with worry. “We shouldn’t take her off the estate.”

  In the last few weeks, Marco and Joseph had grown impossibly more possessive and protective. Now, Joseph’s father insisted I come into the city to have dinner with their family. The three of us were about to leave our safe haven, and I couldn’t deny that I was a little nervous. After all, our last foray into public had ended with me being threatened by their enemies.

  “She’ll be safe at my family’s restaurant,” Joseph countered, but his eyes were clouded with worry as well. “No one would dare to touch her there.”

  “I know that,” Marco replied. “It’s what could happen on the way there and back that worries me.”

  “I can’t put Dad off any longer,” Joseph sighed. “He’s been asking to meet Ashlyn for weeks. If we don’t do this now, he might put his foot down and make me come back home. He’s been letting me stay here with her at your family’s estate. He’s been letting me shirk my responsibilities. I don’t want that to change.”

  “It’s okay,” I interjected. I didn’t want Joseph to have to go back to his responsibilities. If being with me was giving him a valid excuse to stay away from his violent business, I didn’t want to test his father. He might love Joseph, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t force him into doing things that went against his true nature.

  “We can go,” I continued. “It’s just dinner. I know you’ll both keep me safe. I won’t leave your sight.”

  It would simply be a matter of driving to the restaurant and then driving right back to the estate after dinner. There would be a brief window where I’d be on the street, moving inside from the car, but I had to trust that Joseph and Marco would protect me. They wouldn’t let anyone come near me.

  Marco’s jaw ticked. “I still don’t like it.”

  I wrapped my arms around him, letting him feel that I was safe with him. “Please, let’s just go. I don’t want Joseph to have to leave and stay with his family in the city. I need both of you here with me.”

  It was true. I needed both of them, and not just for protection. I’d become addicted to them, obsessed. They held me and cared for me and cherished me. I felt pampered and loved.

  Loved.

  I was falling in love with them. Both of them. I’d been ready to say it to Joseph weeks ago, but I’d held back once Marco joined our relationship. I knew it would hurt him if I declared my feelings for Joseph but not him.

  I was swiftly coming to realize that I felt the same deep affection for both of them. It was unconventional, but that didn’t make it any less true.

  But now wasn’t the time to say it. I’d tell them when we got back to the estate tonight. Everyone was tense, and this wasn’t the moment to fall into their arms and confess my feelings.

  I tucked my face against Marco’s chest. “Please? Let’s just go. I know you’ll keep me safe.”

  He stroked my back. “Always, babygirl.” He sighed. “I don’t want Joseph to have to leave us, either. We can go to dinner.”

  “Thank you.” I went up on my tiptoes and kissed him.

  I felt Joseph’s heat against my back. His hands settled around my waist, and he kissed my neck while Marco claimed my lips. The held me as though they couldn’t get enough of me, and I definitely couldn’t get enough of them.

  Joseph’s hands roved higher, moving toward my breasts.

  I tore my mouth from Marco’s. “We don’t have time,” I panted.

  “My dad can wait,” Joseph declared.

  “No,” I protested. “If we’re going, let’s go now. I don’t want to test his patience.”

  “Dad’s not like that,” Joseph insisted. “He only wants to get to know you because he cares about me. He wants to meet my girlfriend.”

  “But if we don’t go, he

might make you come home and work for him,” I countered quietly.

  He stiffened. “Yes, that’s a possibility.”

  “Then let’s go. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can come back.”

  “Don’t worry, Joseph,” Marco rumbled. “I’ll remember where we left off.”

  With that promise, they both stepped away from me. But each of them took one of my hands, unwilling to release me even for the walk to the garage.

  They decided Marco would drive while Joseph sat with me in the backseat. Marco would have to park the car after dropping us off at the restaurant, and it made more sense for Joseph to go in with me. After all, I was supposed to be his girlfriend.

  Girlfriend. The term didn’t seem weighty enough to encompass my relationship with Joseph and Marco. And I didn’t like that I was going to have to hide my feelings for Marco in front of Joseph’s family.

  Better get used to it, I told myself. If the three of us were going to be together, we’d have to put on a public front. Everyone knew I’d been with Joseph in Cambridge, so it was only logical that we posed as a couple.

  It made my heart ache to think about Marco being left out. He would put on a tough front and pretend it didn’t bother him, but I knew him better than that now. He needed affection, acceptance. Love. It would kill him to stand off to one side while Joseph got to hold me close in public.

  I resolved to figure out that particularly difficult issue later. We just had to make it through this dinner, and then we could all discuss how to handle our relationship in public, once we got back to the privacy of Marco’s estate. For now, I was Joseph’s girlfriend, and that was all his family needed to see.

  I rested my head on his shoulder during the ride into the city. Marco had finally told me the location of the estate—the North Shore of Long Island—a couple of weeks ago. I’d had no idea that we were so close to the city, but I’d known Joseph and Marco could get there and back within a day.

  By the time we arrived in the city, thick snowflakes were falling, dusting the sidewalks. I was grateful Joseph had provided me with more conservative, weather-appropriate clothes to wear. He might like when I wandered around the house in next to nothing, but he’d never let anyone other than Marco look at me when I wore so little. He was as possessive as ever, just not where Marco was concerned.

  I hugged my pale pink pea coat tighter, shivering when Joseph opened the door and helped me out. I didn’t have more than a few seconds to feel the cold; he hustled me into the restaurant in a matter of seconds, and Marco pulled away from the curb to find a parking spot.

  Anxiety made my stomach knot, but I plastered on a pleasant smile. Meeting my boyfriend’s parents would have been enough to make me nervous, but I knew Joseph’s family business. His father was a career criminal, and anyone dining with us would be complicit to some degree or another. Joseph had promised me that his father was excited to meet me, but I was far from comfortable with the idea of meeting a mobster.

  Well, a real mobster. Joseph and Marco didn’t count.

  Joseph led me through the restaurant after dropping off our coats with a young man at the host’s stand. It was obvious that everyone who worked at the restaurant knew Joseph. They all had a polite smile and a “hello” for him.

  When we reached a closed door at the back of the restaurant, Joseph opened it without hesitation and led me inside.

  “Joseph!” a man’s voice boomed, ringing with genuine joy.

  I kept my body tucked halfway behind Joseph’s, but I could see the older man get up from his seat at the head of the table. His face was blocky, his salt and pepper brows thick and heavy. He didn’t look anything like Joseph, whose sensual features were practically sinful on a man. But their pale, aquamarine eyes were the same, and I knew this must be Joseph’s father.

  “Let me see her, let me see her.” He waved Joseph to step aside as he approached us. His eyes caught on my face, and his features split in a wide, genuine smile. “You must be Ashlyn. Bellissima. No wonder my son’s been hiding you away.”

  Even though I hadn’t been able to greet him in return yet, he leaned in and clasped my shoulders, brushing a familiar kiss against my cheek before quickly pulling away. The energetic exchange occurred so fast, I could barely keep up.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Russo,” I managed to find my ingrained manners. “Thank you so much for inviting me to dinner. Joseph’s told me great things about your restaurant.”

  The door opened behind me, and I jolted slightly, on edge. Then, I felt Marco’s fingers brush the small of my back as he came to stand beside me.

  “Marco,” Mr. Russo said with nearly the same enthusiasm he’d shown Joseph. “I’m glad you could come. Now, it’s a real family meal. Sit down, sit down.”

  He motioned us over to the dining table and resumed his seat at the head. The table was set for seven. To Mr. Russo’s left, I noted a petite, middle-aged woman. Although fine lines were drawn around her eyes, it was obvious where Joseph’s beautiful features and glossy black curls came from.

  I gave her my best smile. “You must be Mrs. Russo. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  She inclined her head and returned my smile. “It’s nice to finally meet the girl who’s stolen my son away.” The words were a bit frosty, but she was outwardly polite.

  My gaze flicked away from hers as my anxiety spiked. My eyes fell on the man seated on Mr. Russo’s right. I instantly recognized him as Marco’s father. They looked almost exactly the same, only separated by twenty years or so. Mr. De Luca even shared the same cold glint in his black eyes that Marco possessed. That hard exterior had frightened me at first, but I knew Marco better now. I knew he was gentle and kind.

  I wasn’t certain there was a gentle, kind soul hiding behind Mr. De Luca’s hard exterior.

  He gave me a small nod of acknowledgement. “Miss Meyers.”

  That was all he said in greeting. It was even frostier than what Mrs. Russo had offered me. In her case, I could understand the touch of animosity. Joseph had run away from his family and started a relationship with me in Cambridge. Even now, he was living at Marco’s house with me instead of staying at his own home.

  But Marco’s father… He simply fixed me with a frozen stare, his cold eyes inspecting me.

  Joseph pulled out a chair for me, seating me beside his mother. He settled down at the end of the table, opposite from his father, and Marco sat on Joseph’s left. I wanted to be between them, but I knew that might seem odd. I did my best to smother my discomfiture.

  “I’m Matteo.”

  I blinked and focused on the final person seated at the table. A young man—he couldn’t be older than eighteen—sat between Marco and his father. His wide smile seemed genuine, and I gratefully returned it. The boy didn’t particularly resemble anyone at the table. He did seem to share Mrs. Russo’s hazel eyes, but the similarities stopped there.

  “Matteo is my cousin,” Joseph explained. “He’s been helping my father while I’ve been with you.”

  I tried to keep the guilt out of my expression. This boy was being pulled into a life of violence because of me. If I hadn’t been keeping Joseph away, Matteo might be doing something different with his life. He might be enjoying his time like an eighteen-year-old boy should.

  But I didn’t want that violent life for Joseph, either. This little family gathering was only making me more determined than ever to get Joseph away from New York. I didn’t care if his mother hated me for it.

  That helped me brush off my anxiety over her obvious dislike.

  The door opened again, and the young man from the host’s stand stepped in, balancing drinks on a tray. He served Mr. Russo first, setting a glass of red wine in front of him. Mr. De Luca was next—a glass of whiskey. The rest of us received champagne.

  “Are we celebrating something?” Joseph asked.

  “Meeting Ashlyn, of course,” his father replied, beaming at me. I was baffled. He really did seem excited to meet me. He might be a mobster, but he wasn’t all that scary. Not like Marco’s father.

  He picked up his red wine in an obvious gesture that we were all meant to toast. I picked up my water glass rather than the champagne. I didn’t want to drink alcohol. It might calm my nerves, but I needed to stay sharp. No matter how welcoming Mr. Russo might be, I couldn’t let myself forget what he really was.

  He frowned at me. “You don’t like champagne?”

  “Not really,” I lied, taking the excuse he was giving me. “I’m good with water, but thank you.”

  “You have to at least toast,” he told me. “Here. We’ll trade, since you don’t like champagne.”

  He passed his red wine to me. I thought about refusing, but Joseph squeezed my hand under the table.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking the glass from him and handing off my champagne flute.

  He raised the flute, and the rest of us mirrored him. “To family,” he toasted, meeting my eye with a significant glance. It was bizarre, feeling so welcomed by a man I knew was dangerous.

  To be polite, I took a sip of the red wine. I supposed I’d have to drink a little more over the course of the meal, since Joseph had grabbed my hand to signal for me to take it in the first place. While his father was jovial, there was clearly some underlying tension. Obviously, no one said no to Mr. Russo.

  “So, Ashlyn,” he addressed me. “Joseph tells me you’re a student at Harvard. That’s very impressive.”

  I blushed, heat creeping up my neck. “Thank you.”

  “What are you studying?”

  I flushed hotter, anticipating that Mr. Russo would react similarly to my own father regarding my choice of major. After all, it wasn’t very practical.

  “Art History,” I told him.

  His brows rose with interest rather than condemnation. “And what do you want to do with that?”

  His scrutiny was making me uncomfortable, and I was very aware of everyone’s eyes on me. My sweater was suddenly far too hot, and my palm grew clammy against Joseph’s.

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