The Daddy and the Dom (Mafia Menage Trilogy 2)

Even the bulky clothes that swaddled her mouthwatering figure couldn’t diminish my keen attraction to her. My princess’s lush curves were almost completely concealed beneath five layers of clothing. I imagined peeling off each knit, wooly barrier that separated my hands from her hot little body, until her bare skin pebbled from desire rather than the chilly weather.

The corners of my lips twitched, and my indulgent smile twisted with carnal hunger. I watched her with predatory focus, not feeling even a twinge of guilt over my possessive behavior when it came to Ashlyn. I loved when she looked up at me with those wide, innocent blue eyes, but in the last several months, I’d found a different sort of enjoyment in watching her from a distance, observing her interacting with her friends.

It still seemed surreal that we were here—Joseph and me living in Boston with our sweet girl. By some miracle, we’d been able to keep her for ourselves while also returning her to her normal life as a college student.

My chest swelled with pride. I’d never known satisfaction like the fulfilment I found in providing for my family: Ashlyn and Joseph. I’d left my only blood relative behind when my father had exiled me from New York with a curse on my name, but my chosen family embraced me in a way my father never had.

As though brought on by the fleeting thought of my old life, something ugly stirred in my gut. My body reacted to the threat a few heartbeats before my mind processed what the twist in my stomach meant. This wasn’t an emotional response to thinking about my father; I hadn’t experienced this base, aggressive reflex in months, and its sudden return shocked me like a sucker punch.

All my muscles coiled tight, preparing to attack. My senses sharpened, and the crisp air that had felt so pleasant beside the warm bricks now made my skin prickle with awareness. Although she was still too far away from me—halfway across Harvard Yard—Ashlyn’s melodic laugh rang in my ears: alarm bells rather than the sweetest music.

Because I wasn’t the only one watching her. A man trailed after her, keeping a calculated distance between them. His gaze locked on her back, tracking her movements. With his Harvard sweatshirt and stubble-free cheeks, he was young enough that I might have mistaken him for another student, mooning over my beautiful girl. But he hadn’t exited the lecture hall along with her other classmates, and his stare was too intent to be simple admiration.

My feet were closing the distance between us before I could think. My fingers flexed, preparing to close around his neck and make sure he could never breathe the same air as her ever again.

“Marco!” Ashlyn called my name in a jubilant exhalation. Before I could get past her to reach the bastard, her slight body barreled into mine for our customary, enthusiastic hug.

I grasped her tightly to my chest and spun, putting my bulk between her and the man following her. Instinct urged me to release her immediately and remove the threat. But her soft, floral scent ensnared my focus, helping mitigate the brutal impulse enough that I was able to think like a rational man.

I can’t kill a boy in broad daylight. Not on her college campus.

Not at all, I added the harsh internal addendum, my arms drawing her impossibly closer. That violent part of my life was over, the dark deeds firmly in my past. I would always protect Ashlyn, but I had to be better for her. She would never see me with blood on my hands. Never.

“Are you okay?” she asked, twining her arms around my shoulders to return my fierce hug, offering me support.

Fuck. I never wanted her to be scared again, and she would definitely be frightened if I told her someone was following her.

But I couldn’t let the fucker slip away. Not without at least questioning him. No one from our former life should’ve followed us here. Maybe the guy was just some creep who was into Ashlyn.

Too bad for him, I wouldn’t tolerate that shit, either.

I took a deep breath, inhaling her sweet scent to ground myself. There were other ways to handle this that didn’t involve making a scene on campus. Ways that didn’t involve scaring Ashlyn.

“I’m just happy to see you, babygirl,” I hedged, brushing a kiss over her hair before releasing her from my too-tight embrace. I tucked a stray, silky lock behind her ear, and she leaned into my touch. Her sapphire eyes were so wide and trusting that my heart throbbed with a painful beat. My princess fully believed that I would take care of her. She felt completely safe with me, and I never wanted that to change.

“I’m taking you to the café.” I trailed my thumb over her cheek, which was slightly chilled from the crisp breeze. “You need a pumpkin spice latte and a cinnamon scone.”