the rest of our lives.
“I love you, Joseph,” she murmured. “I love you, Daddy.”
The words reached deep inside me, warming my chest and stoking my lust. My cock began to stiffen again, even though I’d just come inside her mouth.
She gasped when my dick pressed into her hip.
“Already?”
“Always for you, babygirl,” I promised.
“Anything for you, angel,” Joseph swore.
We held her between us and showed her just how much we worshipped her.
Chapter Sixteen
Marco
The sunlight shined on Ashlyn’s glossy hair, illuminating the lighter hues amongst the dark, silky locks. Delicate strands of auburn and spun gold shimmered over rich mahogany, and my rough, calloused fingertips itched to caress their silken length. Even from a distance, I caught the brilliant flash of her perfect smile as she laughed aloud at something her best friend, Jayme, had said.
I propped my shoulder against the building I’d been loitering beside while waiting for her to get out of class, enjoying the warmth of the bricks. The early April breeze was crisp enough that sheltering by the wall provided a comfortable place to wait while I indulged my obsession with her. I was perfectly content to observe her laughing with Jayme; I didn’t want to cut her time with her friend short. Ashlyn was expecting me to meet her now that her classes were finished for the day, so it wasn’t as though I was stalking her without her knowledge.
Although, if she’d tried to put up a fuss about me escorting her to and from campus, I wouldn’t have hesitated to stalk her and make sure she was safe using the public transit between our house and her lecture hall.
But my good girl never put up a fuss when it came to serious matters like her safety. She liked that I wanted to take care of her, and I’d never felt more at peace than I did guarding her. I might be earning money selling my art, but protecting Ashlyn was my full-time job now. Ensuring her blissful happiness was my top priority, and that essential role brought me more contentment than I’d ever thought possible.
Even the bulky clothes that swaddled her mouthwatering figure couldn’t diminish my keen attraction to her. My princess’s lush curves were almost completely concealed beneath five layers of clothing. I imagined peeling off each knit, wooly barrier that separated my hands from her hot little body, until her bare skin pebbled from desire rather than the chilly weather.
The corners of my lips twitched, and my indulgent smile twisted with carnal hunger. I watched her with predatory focus, not feeling even a twinge of guilt over my possessive behavior when it came to Ashlyn. I loved when she looked up at me with those wide, innocent blue eyes, but in the last several months, I’d found a different sort of enjoyment in watching her from a distance, observing her interacting with her friends.
It still seemed surreal that we were here—Joseph and me living in Boston with our sweet girl. By some miracle, we’d been able to keep her for ourselves while also returning her to her normal life as a college student.
My chest swelled with pride. I’d never known satisfaction like the fulfilment I found in providing for my family: Ashlyn and Joseph. I’d left my only blood relative behind when my father had exiled me from New York with a curse on my name, but my chosen family embraced me in a way my father never had.
As though brought on by the fleeting thought of my old life, something ugly stirred in my gut. My body reacted to the threat a few heartbeats before my mind processed what the twist in my stomach meant. This wasn’t an emotional response to thinking about my father; I hadn’t experienced this base, aggressive reflex in months, and its sudden return shocked me like a sucker punch.
All my muscles coiled tight, preparing to attack. My senses sharpened, and the crisp air that had felt so pleasant beside the warm bricks now made my skin prickle with awareness. Although she was still too far away from me—halfway across Harvard Yard—Ashlyn’s melodic laugh rang in my ears: alarm bells rather than the sweetest music.
Because I wasn’t the only one watching her. A man trailed after her, keeping a calculated distance between them. His gaze locked on her back, tracking her movements. With his Harvard sweatshirt and stubble-free cheeks, he was young enough that I might have mistaken him for another student, mooning over my beautiful girl. But he