was told, swallowing down the pill.
Marco was still holding me up, and his other hand was wrapped around mine. He squeezed gently, and I finally opened my eyes to look at him.
His gaze was dark, the fine lines on his face drawn with concern. His thumb traced little circular patterns on my palm.
“You scared me, babygirl.”
“What were you thinking?” Joseph demanded, his cutting voice making my head throb.
I winced, and he softened his tone. He set the now-empty glass aside and took my other hand in his. “Why did you do that, angel?”
My mind was still foggy. “You think I’m a slut.” My words were thick on my heavy tongue. “I had to get away.”
“Of course I don’t think you’re a slut. You’re perfect: our sweet girl. You got yourself hurt.”
“It was wrong,” I slurred. “You… Both of you…” I couldn’t quite focus on why I should protest. My mind was growing foggier, my body heavier.
“Yes,” Marco said firmly. “Both of us. We care about you. We don’t want anything to happen to you. Go back to sleep, princess. We’ll be here when you wake up.”
He eased me down onto the bed, and I drifted off without a thought.
Chapter Seven
Marco
It took a couple days before Joseph and I eased off on feeding Ashlyn painkillers. Neither of us could bear to see her in pain, and we only woke her for meals and to see to her essential needs before we dosed her again.
She wasn’t hurt. Not really. She had a small cut on her forehead. I knew how freely even benign head wounds could bleed, but the sight of crimson blood trailing down her pale cheek had made panic rip through my system.
If we hadn’t been ensuring her comfort, her entire body would’ve ached from the whiplash. Thank fuck the BMW’s safety features had protected her. The doctor we’d called to the house had promised she’d be fine after a few days of rest.
My car was totaled, but I didn’t give a fuck about that. I’d been more concerned about the structural integrity of the gates. Now that I’d almost lost Ashlyn, I was more fiercely protective than ever. I couldn’t allow our enemies the opportunity to slip into our safe haven. I couldn’t let them get to her.
They’d proven they were watching the estate when Ricky had threatened her at the restaurant. So, I’d paid a small fortune to get the gates repaired on the same day she’d smashed into them. The damage to the sturdy structure had been minimal, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
Our fortress was secure again, and no one would get in.
Or out.
If Ashlyn thought she could leave us, she was mistaken.
“This is our fault, you know,” Joseph told me as I paced back and forth across the bedroom. Ashlyn was taking a shower, her head finally clearing from the drugs. We were waiting for her to come out.
I didn’t understand how Joseph could so calmly sit on the bed. Anxious energy flooded my system. I had to keep moving, or I’d crawl out of my skin.
“She tried to run away,” I growled. “She got herself hurt. She has a severe punishment coming for that.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But we need to talk to her first. We scared her, Marco. We should’ve explained more before we played with her together.”
“That wasn’t play, and you know it,” I snapped. We’d never shared such an intense connection with a woman, and neither of us had even fucked her.
“I know. But she doesn’t understand. She said she’s worried I think she’s a slut.” His lips thinned and his fists clenched, his calm demeanor slipping.
I ground my teeth at the word. My innocent little princess was far from a slut. She might submit to our depraved games, but we worshipped her.
We had to make her understand.
Then, I could punish her. My body practically vibrated with the need to discipline her, to show her that I’d never allow her to put herself in danger again. She was my responsibility, and I’d protect her from anything, even herself.
After what felt like an hour, Ashlyn finally emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was damp, her cheeks pink from the heat of the shower. She’d dressed in her camisole and yoga pants instead of one of the sexy nightgowns Joseph had bought for her.
I didn’t like it, even if I could see her nipples through the thin top. She’d chosen this outfit as a barrier between us, a denial of the sexual chemistry we