The Daddy and the Dom (Mafia Menage Trilogy 2)

I ground my teeth at the word. My innocent little princess was far from a slut. She might submit to our depraved games, but we worshipped her.

We had to make her understand.

Then, I could punish her. My body practically vibrated with the need to discipline her, to show her that I’d never allow her to put herself in danger again. She was my responsibility, and I’d protect her from anything, even herself.

After what felt like an hour, Ashlyn finally emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was damp, her cheeks pink from the heat of the shower. She’d dressed in her camisole and yoga pants instead of one of the sexy nightgowns Joseph had bought for her.

I didn’t like it, even if I could see her nipples through the thin top. She’d chosen this outfit as a barrier between us, a denial of the sexual chemistry we shared. If I could have my way, she’d be naked right now, crying out at the sting of my discipline while she squirmed over Joseph’s lap.

I took a deep breath. There would be plenty of time for that after we explained everything to her. I couldn’t stand the idea that she thought of herself as a slut. We hadn’t meant to demean her, and judging by her ecstatic reaction to us when we both held her, I hadn’t been prepared for her emotional backlash. She’d allowed us to cuddle her between us after her explosive orgasm, so sweet and trusting as she fell asleep in our arms. I’d assumed she’d wake up smiling in the morning, and we could discuss everything over breakfast.

We never should have left her alone in bed. She’d probably thought we’d abandoned her.

That had been our mistake. I intended to rectify it right now.

“Come sit with me, angel.” Joseph patted the mattress beside him. “We need to talk.”

She hesitated, shooting me a shy glance.

“All of us,” Joseph added more sternly.

She crossed the room slowly, but she sat beside him on the bed. I wanted to join them, to wrap my arm around her and hold her close.

But I couldn’t touch her. Not until I was sure she’d welcome me. If she cringed away from me now, it would tear me apart. I might damage things beyond repair if I pushed too hard. She had to be willing. She might be our captive, but I would never do anything to harm her or cause her distress.

Joseph wasn’t as hesitant as I was. He reached out and took her hand in his. She stiffened, but she didn’t pull away.

She still trusted him. She still cared for him.

Something ached deep in my chest, but I ignored it.

“You shouldn’t have run from us,” Joseph told her, his voice gentle despite the rebuke. “You got yourself hurt. And if you had left the estate, our enemies could’ve gotten their hands on you. We won’t allow that to happen.”

“I can’t stay here,” she whispered, pained. “I just want to go back to school. I…” Her voice hitched. “I don’t want to be here with you.”

I could hear the lie in her strained tone, but I didn’t call her on it. We needed to handle this with finesse, so I’d let Joseph take the lead. He’d always been smoother than I was. I couldn’t help being blunt and saying exactly what I thought. If I opened my mouth, I’d warn her about the dangers she faced without us to guard her. That wasn’t what she needed to hear right now.

“You can’t go back, angel,” Joseph said, soothing. “It’s too dangerous.”

She stared at him, imploring. “I can’t stay here with you. You think… You don’t respect me. I never should’ve agreed to stay away from school. No one respects me anymore. I’m just a…a slut.”

“I never want to hear you say that word again,” I growled, unable to hold back.

She glanced my way, then quickly dropped her eyes.

“Marco’s right,” Joseph said firmly. “Don’t use that word. You are not a slut. I respect you. Marco respects you. We care about you, Ashlyn. We want to be with you. Both of us.”

Her brow furrowed. “But that…that’s wrong. I’m supposed to be with you, Joseph.”

I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough that coppery blood spilled onto my tongue.

“But you want to be with Marco, too,” he told her. “It’s okay. We want it to be this way. This is how it should be. You were made for us, angel. Both of us.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, but her cheeks were pink with something other than shame.

“Marco and I like to share. We’ve always been this way.”

I remembered clearly how we’d fallen into this dynamic. Joseph and I had always shared a tight bond. I’d taken on the role of his protector when he was a scrawny kid, and I’d become responsible for him. He meant more to me than a brother, but I thought of him with similar affection I might feel for a younger sibling.