Theirs to Protect (Mafia Menage Trilogy 3)

I just wasn’t used to seeing Marco handle her like that. He was stern and uncompromising in his discipline, but I was usually the one who needed to push the boundaries of pleasure and pain to attain the release I found in Ashlyn’s complete trust.

Something was wrong. Something had happened to Marco, and he’d been almost feral with a desperate need to mark and claim her. His glittering, onyx stare flashed through my mind. He’d never looked at me like that, with possessiveness that edged close to madness. We’d always shared a tight bond. But he’d fixed me in a dark, consuming gaze, as though he wanted to bind me to him just as fiercely as he craved to mark and own Ashlyn.

A strange mix of warm affection and cold dread swirled through my chest. I loved Marco just as much as I loved Ashlyn. It was a different kind of love, but my devotion was deep enough that I’d die for both of them. My brother was hurting. And he’d isolated himself from us, shutting the door between us. His granite features had twisted with horror when he saw Ashlyn’s blood and the marks he’d left on her pale skin. The shock and worry on my own face hadn’t helped the situation.

“Come on, angel,” I murmured, gathering Ashlyn up in my arms. “Let’s join Marco in the shower.”

She hummed her agreement and nestled close to my chest as I carried her to the bathroom. Her eyes were closed, her mind drifting in the residual pleasure that’d flooded her system when we’d demanded her submission. I was glad that she was lust drunk. I didn’t want her to be worried about Marco, too. I wouldn’t allow her to crash after our intense power exchange, and if she sensed Marco’s distress, she’d allow his roiling emotions to swallow her whole.

But we couldn’t leave him alone right now. He would retreat further and build walls between us. I’d seen him do that once before, when I’d abandoned him and run away to Cambridge. Guilt soured my stomach at the memory of those long, awful weeks when I’d been forced to return to New York without Ashlyn. I’d been shattered, and my best friend had been so deeply wounded that he’d hidden his pain from me. He’d hidden everything from me. He’d locked me out completely, so I couldn’t hurt him even more. Marco hated being vulnerable more than anything. Ashlyn had pulled him back out of that dark, lonely place; she’d brought him back to me.

I wouldn’t give him a chance to withdraw from me, from us. Never again.

As soon as I stepped into the bathroom, Ashlyn in my arms, Marco’s head whipped towards us. He froze for a few seconds, giving me enough time to close the distance between us before he could bolt. The massive shower was more than big enough for three, with warm water spraying from six directions. Despite the large space, the glass door that served as the only opening was built for one person at a time; he didn’t have a chance of getting past me, especially when I held Ashlyn between us.

Marco backed away and pressed his palms flat against the tiles behind him as though to glue his hands in place, to prevent himself from reaching for her. His eyes were wide and wild, like a cornered predator.

I fixed him with a steady stare, trying to silently show him that my worry had faded, and I didn’t fault him for anything. I didn’t dare speak the reassurances aloud because that would pull Ashlyn out of her blissful state.

“Our girl needs you,” I murmured, my voice as low and soothing as it’d been when I’d comforted her.

His jaw ticked, and his nostrils flared. His fingers splayed on the tiles at his sides, anchoring his hands.

My chin lifted, and I resolutely approached him without hesitation. I pressed Ashlyn’s soft, supple body against his chest, and she practically purred as she twined her arms around the back of his neck.

“Daddy.” She exhaled his name on a happy sigh and tucked her face into his shoulder.

He glowered at me, but his arms automatically lifted to support her weight. I released her, forcing him to keep her cradled against his chest. The steam that filled the bathroom was thick enough to wet the air, and I hissed as I reached through the scalding spray to turn the water temperature down to a comfortable heat. Marco had been burning his skin, punishing himself.

I ran a hand through my hair and took a deep breath of humid air. I couldn’t confront him now. Not with Ashlyn in such a vulnerable state. If I had to compel his intimate contact with our girl, I could be an asshole for a little while.

Nothing was more important to Marco than Ashlyn’s happiness. I’d talk him out of the dark hole he’d fallen into once she drifted off to sleep. If I allowed him to neglect her now in some misguided attempt to protect her from himself, he’d only sink further into that darkness. He’d hate himself for upsetting her, even more than he already did.