The Daddy and the Dom (Mafia Menage Trilogy 2)

This isn’t me. This is crazy. I’m acting crazy.

Ever since Marco had brought me to his mansion, I’d become more of a sexual being with each passing day. I’d fallen into Joseph’s arms, willingly abandoning my life at Harvard. I’d traded my responsibilities for the pleasure of his touch.

Within the space of a few weeks, I’d become such a whore that I’d allowed two men to use me. I’d allowed Marco to spank me. I’d called him Daddy, and it had gotten me hot.

It was weird and taboo and wrong.

Get out. I had to get out before I lost myself completely. I’d allowed myself to forget that Marco had kidnapped me, that I was being held here against my wishes. All I’d wanted was to go back to Cambridge with Joseph, but I’d become docile and warped in my time on this estate.

Now, he’d never love me. I’d lost his respect and the respect of everyone else in my life: my professors, my father.

Joseph wasn’t here this morning, holding me and calling me his angel. I’d never be his angel again. I was dirty now, damaged goods.

I threw the covers back and hastily found some clothes to cover my nakedness. I jerked on the yoga pants and camisole. I wished I had a coat to keep me warm once I ran outside, but I’d be in the warmth of Marco’s BMW soon enough.

The men had left me alone. The bedroom door was open. They hadn’t bothered to lock their compliant captive in her cage.

I knew if I could just make it to the garage, I could retrieve Marco’s keys where he kept them hanging in a neat row. Once I got into the BMW, I could get off the estate. I’d ram my way through the gates if I had to.

I picked up my flats, deciding to carry them so I could walk across the marble floor of the foyer without making any noise. I wasn’t sure where Marco and Joseph were, but at least one of them would be in the house. Probably Joseph. Marco often left to go into the city to deal with his business.

How could I have forgotten what that business was? Marco and Joseph were criminals, and last night, they’d revealed their true, depraved nature.

I tiptoed down the stairs on bare feet. As I descended, I could make out the rumble of their voices emanating from the kitchen.

They were both here.

My heart hammered against my ribcage as adrenaline surged. If they caught me, I’d be helpless in their strong arms. I wouldn’t be able to escape them.

I got to the front door and turned the knob slowly. The latch slid back silently.

I didn’t dare close the door behind me in case it made noise, so I left it cracked.

I shivered as soon as the chilled autumn air hit my exposed skin, but I broke into a run. My feet sank into the grass as I tore around the side of the house, making my way toward the garage.

Luck was with me, because I didn’t hear sounds of pursuit. I reached the garage without incident, and I slipped in the side door. I found the BMW keys on their designated peg, in their neatly organized place.

I rushed to the car and cranked the engine to life. The garage door seemed to take an eternity to lift open, but eventually, there was enough space for me to hit the gas. In my haste to get away, the tires squealed against the asphalt, but I was already in the safety of the car. I sped around the house and headed for the long driveway that led out of the estate.

The front door to the house burst open, revealing Joseph and Marco. Their shouts followed me down the driveway, and I saw them running in the rearview mirror. They weren’t running after me. That would be futile. They were headed toward the garage, likely to get their own vehicle to pursue me.

I pressed my foot down on the gas pedal, increasing my speed.

In a matter of minutes, the gates appeared before me. They weren’t pretty, wrought iron gates; they were solid steel.

My heart jumped into my throat, but I didn’t have a choice.

I screamed as I barreled toward the barrier between me and freedom. I caught sight of the red Porsche in my rearview, and I firmed my resolve.

A shockwave hit my body when the car smashed into the gates. The hood of the car crumpled, and the airbag deployed. Pain burst through my head just before the world flickered around me.

The car door was wrenched open, and Joseph’s panicked voice penetrated my pained haze as he freed me from my seatbelt.

“Ashlyn,” he rasped. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” He repeated it several times, sounding as though he was trying to convince himself as much as reassure me.