“She wasn’t scared. Not of the drawings and not of me. She was scared of how they made her feel. Stop pretending to be someone you’re not, Joseph. If you really are meant to be together, she’ll accept you as you are. She’ll welcome it.”
“You don’t know her like I do. You didn’t know her in Cambridge. She’s led a charmed life, Marco. I was relieved she wasn’t a virgin. I thought she might be when I first met her. That’s how innocent she is.”
“And that’s part of why you want her,” he circled back around to the crux of his argument. “How long do you think you can keep fucking her like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re some vanilla, boring man with a vanilla, boring life. You might not like our violent world, but you do like your toys. You like playing with women, dominating them. You like the control. You know this about yourself. I know this about you. Ashlyn isn’t made of glass. In fact, I’m sure she’s quite flexible. Can’t you imagine what she’d look like, tied up in your ropes?” His voice got rougher as he spoke, his dark words affecting him as much as they were tempting me.
“We can’t,” I forced out. “I can’t. Ashlyn’s not built for that kind of play.”
“I think she is. I think she was made for it. She wouldn’t be so infatuated with you, otherwise. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, the way she reacts when you touch her. Think about it, Joseph. She’s innocent, but you could be the first one to corrupt her.”
The first one? Fuck that. There wouldn’t be anyone else in her future. She was staying here, with Marco and me.
“I don’t want to discuss this anymore,” I said in clipped tones. “I’m not going to do anything that might frighten her. She’s scared enough as it is. A couple days ago, she was a normal college student whose biggest worry was studying for finals. Now, she’s faced with the fact that she’s caught in the middle of a war within our family. She’s dealing with enough as it is. It’s a miracle she’s not trying to claw my eyes out for keeping her captive. She’s agreed to stay here, under our protection. If that means I have to protect her from myself, from us, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Then it’s my mistake to make. Ashlyn is my responsibility, Marco. Mine.”
He flinched ever so slightly. If I hadn’t known him so well, I wouldn’t have noticed it.
I knew he was interested in her. Any man would want her, but Ashlyn’s innocence would call to him as strongly as it allured me. Marco’s reasons for finding her appealing might be different from mine, but we’d always wanted the same women. That had never been a problem before. We liked to share.
But he didn’t understand Ashlyn like I did. He didn’t know her at all.
I’d do whatever it took to keep her happy, including denying my perversions and shielding her from Marco’s darker urges.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ashlyn
A week had passed since I’d seen Marco’s perverted drawings, but I still hadn’t told Joseph about them. It would be weird to tell him about his friend’s intimate, kinky sketches.
Wouldn’t it?
I couldn’t shake the image from my mind: Joseph looming behind me with a coil of rope. Every time he pinned me to the mattress or pushed me up against the wall, trapping me in place while he fucked me, the lewd drawing would pop into my head.
It was distracting.
Inappropriate.
And it always entered my mind right as I reached orgasm.
But I couldn’t tell Joseph about it. He’d think I was a pervert for even looking at Marco’s drawings. I couldn’t imagine what he’d say if I told him I thought about them when I climaxed.
Not to mention what it might do to their friendship if Joseph found out that Marco had drawn me like that, bound and naked. Joseph might not seem particularly possessive of me when his friend was around, but this was on a whole other level. I highly doubted Marco showed Joseph his sketches. It would be like sharing porn, and that was just weird. Men didn’t do that.
Did they?
I supposed I didn’t really know that much about men. I’d had one boyfriend for a month in junior year of high school, and I’d dated a guy freshman year of college—Jimmy. He’d cheated on me, so I’d ended the relationship. I hadn’t really felt much of a connection, but the betrayal still stung. It only set me further back with my deeply ingrained trust issues.
I’d thought I could move past those issues when I’d first met Joseph, but it turned out he’d been deceiving me all along; he hadn’t told me about his criminal lifestyle. There was honesty between us now, but I was still holding back my feelings for him. He hadn’t fully earned my trust.
That barrier between us prevented me from bringing up Marco’s drawing. I couldn’t reveal the depth of my depraved thoughts to Joseph. Not when I couldn’t put my heart in his hands without hesitation or fear of getting hurt.
“What’s wrong, angel?” Joseph called me out of my brooding thoughts.
“Nothing.” I sighed and leaned my cheek against his shoulder, trying to focus on the TV again. We’d moved on from Stranger Things to Sons of Anarchy. I liked the show, but it wasn’t enough to hold my attention when I couldn’t get that lewd drawing out of my head.
Joseph picked up the remote and turned off the TV. He took my hands in his, staring into my eyes as though he could read my thoughts if he just looked hard enough.
“You’re not happy,” he finally said. “What can I do?”
I shifted, uncomfortable with his scrutiny. I cut my eyes away, unable to bear the weight of his crystalline stare.
“It’s just… I don’t know,” I hedged. “It’s hard being away from school.” That much was true. I was stressing about falling behind on my coursework, and while I loved being with Joseph, I was feeling a little cooped up in the big, empty mansion.
“Do you think Marco has scheduled for the pool to be filled yet?” I asked, hopeful. If I could just go for a nice, long swim, I could clear my mind.
“I’m not sure. I’ll ask him again.”
This would be the third time Joseph had to ask about it. I wasn’t sure why Marco was dragging his feet. It shouldn’t be hard for someone with his kind of money to get the pool cleaned and filled in a few days.
“Thanks,” I said, holding in my irritation. It wasn’t Joseph’s fault that Marco wasn’t as concerned with my happiness as he was. Joseph adored me, pampered me. There was no reason for me to expect the same kind of treatment from Marco. He’d barely looked at me since I’d seen his sketches. I would’ve thought he was embarrassed, but he didn’t strike me as the type to get embarrassed. He certainly hadn’t seemed at all ashamed when he’d commanded me to turn the page and look at his drawing of Joseph tying me up.
The memory made my face heat.
Joseph’s gaze flicked to my pink cheeks and back to my eyes. A furrow appeared between his brows as he studied me, as though I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.