The Daddy and the Dom

by Julia Sykes

  He traced the line of my jaw before picking up a lock of my hair. He lifted it to his nose and inhaled deeply. I shuddered, feeling more violated than I had when he’d touched my face.

  “You’re very pretty,” he told me. “I can see why Joseph likes you. I’m sure he’d be heartbroken if anything happened to you.”

  A soft knock sounded against the door. “Ashlyn?”

  “Joseph!” I gasped out his name, too breathless to scream for him.

  A loud bang echoed through the bathroom as the door flew open, the wood splintering around the broken lock. Joseph slammed into the man who’d been threatening me, his momentum taking them both to the floor.

  I shrieked when strong arms grabbed me.

  “It’s me,” Marco said. “I’ve got you.”

  He picked me up, cradling me against his chest as he turned me away from the violence. Joseph brought his fist down on the man’s nose. I saw blood spray, and I hid my face against Marco’s neck.

  “Don’t kill him, Joseph,” Marco warned as he carried me away. “We can’t draw first blood.”

  Marco rushed through the restaurant, his big body shielding mine as he held me close, his huge arms protecting me. Several patrons exclaimed and stood to gawk, but Marco didn’t seem to care. He was completely focused on getting me away from the man who’d scared me.

  “Wait!” I twisted in his arms when cool night air kissed my skin. “Joseph.” We couldn’t leave him behind. “That man had a gun.” My panic spiked, and I squirmed against Marco’s hold.

  “He won’t use it,” Marco promised me. “They were just trying to send a message. Joseph will be fine.”

  “You can’t know that!” I continued struggling, but his arms were iron around me.

  “He’s already behind us.”

  I listened, registering heavy footfalls racing toward us, closing the distance between us. I craned my head back to look over Marco’s shoulder.

  “Joseph,” I practically sobbed his name as relief ripped through me.

  “I’ll drive,” Joseph told Marco as he caught up to us. “You cover her.”

  Marco nodded, shifting me slightly so he could open the back door of the BMW. He slid inside with me, placing me on my back along the seat. I heard Joseph slam the driver’s side door, and the car lurched forward. Marco leaned over me, his weight pressing me down into the padded seat as his body covered mine.

  “That’s it,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Hold on to me. You’re safe.”

  I didn’t realize my fingers had curled into the front of his shirt, and I was holding on to him for dear life.

  Marco’s huge hands started roving over my body with shocking gentleness. “Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?” Despite his gentle hands, his words were a rough growl.

  “N-no,” I stammered, my teeth clicking together. It was so cold in the car. “He just said…” I trailed off, shivering at the memory of the man’s hand on my face.

  “What did he say?” Marco prompted.

  “He knew my name. He said his friends had pictures of Joseph and me together. He said Joseph would be upset if anything happened to me.”

  Joseph’s harsh curse floated back to me, and the engine roared as the car picked up speed.

  “We’re through the gates,” he announced a few minutes later. He must have smashed the speed limit to get us back to the estate so quickly.

  Marco finally sat up, pulling me with him so I sat in his lap. He held me close and placed his hand on the side of my head, tucking my face against his chest. My fingers were still fisted in his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He rubbed my chilled arms with his free hand, and he stroked my hair with the other.

  “It’s okay, princess. I know that was scary, but you’re safe now.”

  I nodded against him, soothed by the deep timbre of his voice. I was so rattled by what had happened, I didn’t even register the strange fact that I was feeling comforted by Marco. Just a few hours ago, I’d found him frightening.

  But there was nothing scary about the way he held me, warming my chilled skin with his body heat. Tears spilled from my eyes, wetting his shirt.

  “You can cry,” he assured me. “Hold on to me and cry. You’ll feel better after.”

  I nodded, letting the tears flow freely as I purged all the residual fear from my system. Marco was right. I did feel better.

  I was safe in his strong arms, and I didn’t have to be afraid of him anymore.

  Chapter Twelve

  Joseph

  “I need to go into the city to see my father. I need to talk to him about the threat to Ashlyn. They must have been watching the estate this whole time,” I told Marco as I quickly ate the eggs and bacon he’d prepared for me. Ashlyn was still sleeping upstairs, likely exhausted from the trauma she’d faced last night.

  Rage rushed through me at the thought of that fucker threatening her, touching her. Ricky Bianchi was easily recognizable by the scar on his cheek. Now, he’d have a broken nose to make him look even uglier.

  The fact that I’d bloodied him could cause problems for my father—fighting within the family was forbidden. But Ricky had threatened Ashlyn, so I hoped that balanced out my actions. I didn’t want to be the one who instigated war. The threat to Ashlyn had been an intimidation tactic, a power play.

  I knew that wouldn’t be nearly enough to make my father concede his rightful place as the presumptive boss. He’d been named successor, and he wouldn’t back down because of a few slights and insults. Gabriel Costa would literally take power over my father’s dead body.

  Ricky might not have hurt Ashlyn, but I’d seen how close he’d gotten to her when I’d broken down the bathroom door. I’d gone to check on her since she was taking a while, and when she gasped my name, I’d known in my gut that something was wrong.

  “I agree. You need to tell your father about this,” Marco said, his face twisting with fury that matched my own. He’d grown attached to Ashlyn, too, despite the fact that she didn’t like him.

  Attached wasn’t a strong enough word. I’d seen the way he’d held her last night. I’d heard him call her princess. I knew what that meant.

  He was just as obsessed as I was.

  I speared him with a significant stare. “You won’t do anything while I’m gone, will you?”

  “Like what?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

  “You know what. I don’t want you to frighten her again. I think she’s finally coming around, after last night. She’s not scared of you anymore. Don’t undo the progress we’ve made.”

  He frowned. “You’re wrong about her, you know. She might look delicate, but she could handle me. She could handle us.”

  “I swear to god, Marco, don’t keep pushing me on this. Back off.”

  His frown deepened to a scowl, but I saw the hurt flash in his eyes. “You really don’t want to share her with me? You really think I’d do something to hurt her?”

  I blew out a breath. “I know you’d never hurt her. But you don’t understand her. Not like I do.”

  “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand. You’re blinded by your obsession with what you think she is. You want her to be this pure, perfect angel who will save you from your ugly life. She might be pure and perfect, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want you, Joseph. The real you. Stop holding back.”

  Longing tugged at my chest, and for the first time, doubt crept into my mind. Ever since I’d captured her and told her I was keeping her, she’d been… different. Sometimes, she seemed like her mind was somewhere else when she was with me.

  “You know I’m right,” Marco pressed on, reading my hesitation.

  I shook my head. “If she’s been acting distant sometimes, it’s because I haven’t earned her trust back yet. It’ll take time for her to open up to me again. I betrayed her with my deception.”

  He cocked his head at me. “And how long has she been acting distant?”

  “Since we kidnapped her, obviously.�
��

  “She didn’t seem distant in those first couple of days with you. I saw the way she looked at you. I heard her screaming out her orgasms. Are you sure her distance didn’t start a little later? Maybe after she saw my sketches?”

  My stomach turned. “If that’s the cause, then she’s putting distance between us because she’s scared of what she saw.”

  “I don’t think so. She wants it, Joseph.”

  I held up a hand. “Stop this. Just stop. I won’t risk scaring her away. I need her, Marco. Don’t you get that?”

  He sobered, his hard demeanor easing. “Of course I do. I saw how you were without her, and I’ve seen you together. I know you, Joseph. I get it. But I still think you’re wrong about her.”

  “Then we’ll agree to disagree,” I said, tired of the argument. I sighed. “I need to go. I’m going to say goodbye to Ashlyn before I head into the city to meet with my father. I’ll see you tonight.”

  He nodded, allowing me to close the subject.

  I left him in the kitchen and headed upstairs to kiss Ashlyn before I had to leave. I didn’t want to go, not after she’d been threatened. But she’d be safe on the estate. She’d be safe with Marco.

  I needed to deal with the threat where it really mattered. If Ashlyn was being targeted, it was actually an attack on my father, an attempt to intimidate us. No one in the family wanted to strike first, so my father’s enemies would make subtler power plays until things escalated out of control.

  I hoped it wouldn’t get to that point, but if they thought they could come anywhere near Ashlyn, I’d do whatever it took to keep her safe.

  I opened the bedroom door softly. I didn’t want to truly disturb her; she needed to rest. But I at least had to see her, had to touch her, before I could leave. I was addicted to her, just as obsessed as Marco claimed.

  I brushed her silky dark hair back from her face and pressed a soft kiss against her pale cheek. She let out a happy little humming noise and stretched like a sleepy kitten. She was so adorable, it made my heart ache. I’d be perfectly content to stay here and touch her all day. I’d never get enough of her: her soft body; her sounds of pleasure as I stroked her skin with reverence; her screams of ecstasy when I pinned her down and fucked her hard.

  The thought of restraining her burned into my mind, images of her bound in my ropes tormenting me.

  No. I shoved the tempting picture from my brain.

  The connection we shared was enough to keep me satisfied for ten lifetimes. I could do without my kinky toys as long as I could just have her in my arms.

  “Good morning,” she mumbled, her lips curving in a small smile as she opened her pretty blue eyes.

  “Good morning, angel. How are you feeling?”

  I needed to know that she was okay before I could go. If she was still upset over what had happened last night, I wouldn’t leave her side until her fear passed.

  A shadow flickered across her eyes, and her brow furrowed. “I’m… I’m okay.” She took in a deep breath and blew it out again. “I am. Marco got me away from that man. And you…” She shivered. “You stopped him.”

  I didn’t like the little shudder that had raced through her.

  “What’s wrong? Tell me.”

  Her lashes lowered, hiding her eyes from me. “Would you really… Marco told you not to kill him. Would you have done that?” Her gaze finally lifted, the fear in her eyes cutting into my chest. “Would you have killed him?”

  I cupped her face in my hands. She didn’t flinch away.

  “No. I wouldn’t have killed him. I wanted to hurt him, but I wouldn’t have killed him.”

  “Because Marco told you not to?”

  “No, angel. Because I don’t have it in me.” A touch of shame tinged my words as I remembered my father’s embarrassment. Even though I didn’t want to be a killer, I hated Dad’s disappointment.

  I took a deep breath and decided to tell her the whole truth, the depth of my sins. I’d owed her this for a long time, and I knew I’d never earn her trust back if she didn’t fully understand why I’d run away from New York.

  “I have killed a man,” I admitted on a pained whisper. “Once. I didn’t mean to, but that doesn’t change what I did.”

  Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t say anything. She let me continue with my confession.

  “When I was younger, a teenager, I was just an errand boy. I helped deliver messages and oversee the exchanges that took place in my family’s restaurant, when the drugs changed hands.” That part didn’t really bother me. In those days, I’d been eager, ready to make my father proud.

  But that was before I learned the realities of my world. My father had shielded me from the violence, wanting me to have a happy childhood.

  “That ended when I turned eighteen,” I said. “I was a man then, with a man’s responsibilities. Marco was in charge of recruiting new soldiers, finding men to join our family. I helped him. At first, it was just a matter of identifying boys with a violent streak, boys who wanted to grow into men who moved up in the world and made something of themselves.

  “But the jobs got dirtier. Bloodier. I started helping with my father’s racketeering, and that involved intimidating people into making deals with our family. When they couldn’t pay their debts, Marco and I would threaten them until they did.”

  I took a deep breath, bracing myself to reveal the ugliest part of my soul.

  “About six months ago, we were intimidating a man with the help of some new guys, men Marco and I had recruited. The victim’s name was William Johnston. I’ll never forget his name. I’ll never forget his face, pale and scared. Bloody and ruined.

  “The boys got out of control. They took it too far, and William ended up in the hospital. He died there two days later. And it was my fault.”

  I grimaced and looked away, no longer able to bear her wide-eyed stare.

  “I vomited when I found out. I got sick in front of Dad and Marco’s father. My dad was so ashamed of me. I hated that I’d disappointed him, but I hated what I’d done even more. That’s why I ran away to Cambridge. I’d always wanted to go to college, but I hadn’t been allowed. My education in violence was more important than anything I could learn from a book.”

  I found her gaze again, desperate to drink her in. This might be the last time she ever allowed me to touch her, and I didn’t want to waste a second with her.

  “And then I met you, and I deluded myself into believing everything would be okay. That my life would be different. That I’d deserve you.”

  I traced the lines of her cheekbones with my thumbs. “I know now that I don’t. I never will. But I can’t let you go, Ashlyn. I need you.”

  She drew in a sharp breath, but she simply continued to stare up at me in shock.

  “Say something, please,” I begged, my gut knotting when she didn’t respond right away.

  She reached up and touched her fingertips to the tense line of my jaw. “I knew you were a good man. I need you too, Joseph.”

  I huffed out the breath I’d been holding, relief ripping through me.

  “I’m not a good man, angel.”

  Her gaze sharpened with determination. I rarely saw this fire in her, but when it flickered to life, I knew she was about to give me a piece of her formidable mind.

  “You are. You didn’t ask for your life. And you obviously don’t want it. You want to change. You didn’t mean for that man to die.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that he did,” I said, strained.

  “No,” she allowed. “It doesn’t. But the way you feel about it changes everything. When Marco kidnapped me, I thought I didn’t know you. I thought I couldn’t trust you. But I was always right about you. I know you, Joseph. You are a good man. And when all this is over, we’ll go back to Cambridge and have the life you want. The life you deserve.”

  My chest tightened at her words. I wished they were true. I was relieved at her reaction to the ugly truth about me, but I knew we could
never go back. Now that she was in my world, I wouldn’t be able to return her to her old life, even if she could go back to her classes at Harvard. Her life would always be tied to mine.

  Because I wouldn’t let her go. I wasn’t capable of letting her go.

  “I’d like that, angel,” I said, offering her the only truth I could. I longed for the dream of a normal life with her, but the time for that had passed. It had never even been a possibility.

  She beamed up at me, elated at my response. She didn’t realize I was deceiving her again, but I couldn’t bring myself to shatter this moment with her. By some miracle, she wasn’t horrified by my admission. I wasn’t willing to ruin that by dashing her hopes. She’d adjust with time, and she’d forget that she’d ever thought about leaving.

  I hoped I wasn’t deluding myself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marco

  “Are your eggs okay?” I asked, breaking the stretch of silence. Ashlyn was pushing her food around her plate rather than eating it. She’d been quiet ever since Joseph had left to go into the city an hour ago.

  She shot me a shy glance, then dropped her gaze back to her plate. “They’re great. Thanks for cooking for me all the time. I know you don’t have to do that.”

  It was the first time she’d ever expressed gratitude for my cooking. Something swelled in my chest.

  “I want to do it,” I told her. “I like cooking for you.”

  I’d like to take care of her more, if she’d let me.

  My gut told me she’d welcome Joseph’s kinkier games. I wanted her to welcome me, too.

  But my perversions weren’t a game. They were a part of me, a need that gnawed at my soul. In the time she’d been with us, that need had shifted to Ashlyn. I’d thought about her countless times, our few intense encounters giving me enough fantasies to make me come in the shower every day. When I stroked myself, I’d close my eyes and remember the way she trembled for me.