The Daddy and the Dom (Mafia Menage Trilogy 2)

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 girl.

Chapter Eight

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’ve 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 change my feelings or the intensity of my sensual connection to both men.

“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.