9. Ronan
9
RONAN
T he garden is quiet except for the faint rustle of leaves and the soft voices of the women in my family. Declan stands at the front, looking composed as ever, but his eyes hold a flicker of amusement that tells me he’s enjoying this a little too much. I keep my focus on Tessa, though. She’s walking toward me, her white dress catching the sunlight, every step tentative.
She’s… breathtaking. I can’t take my eyes off her, and for a moment, I forget why we’re doing this. Then the reality of it hits me again—this is for her. To protect her. To give her a way out.
When she reaches me, her gaze meets mine, and I can see the nerves beneath her calm exterior. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to be nervous and that I’ll handle everything, but I don’t trust myself to speak right now. Instead, I offer her a small nod, hoping she understands.
Declan clears his throat, his voice steady as he starts the ceremony. His words blur in my mind, something about commitment and vows. I repeat the ones he tells me, short and to the point, promising to protect and honor her. Tessa’s voice is quieter, but she says her part without faltering, her words soft but clear.
And then Declan smirks. “By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. Ronan, you may kiss the bride.”
For a second, neither of us moves. The air between us is charged, heavy. I can feel everyone watching, waiting, but all I can see is Tessa. Her lips part slightly, her cheeks flushed, and I can tell she’s just as tense as me.
I take a step closer, my movements slow and deliberate. She doesn’t pull away, and when I lean in, I press a gentle, quick kiss to her lips. It’s soft, fleeting, but enough to send my mind spiraling and my cock aching.
Her lips are warm, and for a moment, the rest of the world disappears. When I pull back, I keep my expression neutral, but my mind is racing. I want to tell myself it was nothing—a formality. But the truth is, it wasn’t nothing. Not for me.
Declan clears his throat again, louder this time, and the crowd breaks into applause. Tessa and I step away from the altar, and I immediately spot her parents lingering near the back of the garden.
I don’t wait. Leaving Tessa surrounded by all the girls in the family, I approach them; my tone clipped and firm. “This is the last time you’ll step foot on this estate. Unless Tessa reaches out to you, you’re not to contact her. Do you understand me?”
Her father bristles, his face turning red, but I don’t give him a chance to argue. “Do you understand?” I repeat coldly enough to make him flinch.
“Yes,” he mutters, his shoulders sagging.
Her mother looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. I don’t give them another glance as I turn away and head back to Tessa. Security guards will ensure they leave. I gave those instructions this morning, wanting them away from Tessa as quickly as possible. She doesn’t need their toxicity around her.
By the time we’ve finished signing the marriage license and move inside, the atmosphere has shifted. The tension from the ceremony melts away as everyone gathers in the formal dining room, the long table overflowing with food and drink. The room is filled with laughter and conversation, the kind of noise that comes with this family.
I guide Tessa to a seat near the center, my hand resting lightly on her back. She glances up at me, her eyes still uncertain, and I lean in slightly. “You’re okay,” I say quietly. “They’re going to love you.”
And they do. Cali, Scarlet, Paisley, Chloe, Katie, and Anastasia swarm Tessa, bombarding her with questions and compliments. Cali, as usual, is the loudest. “You’re stunning,” she declares with her usual infectious grin.
Killian smirks, raising a glass. “Welcome to the madhouse, Tessa. Good luck keeping up.”
Grady laughs. “Don’t let them scare you.”
The teasing is relentless as always, but it’s lighthearted, and Tessa slowly starts to relax. Throughout the evening, I stay close to her, my hand brushing against hers or resting on the back of her chair. Every now and then, she glances at me, her expression softening, and it feels… right.
The girls pull her into their conversations, asking her about everything from her birthday to her favorite foods. The guys, on the other hand, stick to quieter comments to one another, letting the women bond.
By the time dinner winds down, Tessa looks much more at ease, and maybe even a little drunk, laughing at something Paige is saying. I stay quiet for the most part, watching her. It’s so easy to watch her.
“We’re having a big family breakfast in the morning, so why don’t you all stay the night? We can have a slumber party,” Cali says.
Tessa smiles, looking almost hopeful and a bit relieved. I’m sure going to bed on her own on her wedding night wasn’t something she dreamed of as a kid. At least the girls can give her some comfort that I’m unable to. As much as I want to be the one to comfort her, it’s too soon.
“Sounds good,” I reply while keeping my gaze on my wife.
My wife.
Fuck. I’m a husband. It’s going to take some time for that to really sink in.
Everyone else agrees to the sleepover, and eventually, all the girls leave us to watch a movie while the guys have a drink.
Before I make my way up to one of the guest rooms, I check on Tessa. She’s under a blanket, stretched out on one of the couches, her dress replaced with an old T-shirt.
“You okay?” I ask quietly, not wanting to interrupt their movie.
She nods, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah. I think so.”
Slowly, I reach down and brush a strand of her hair away from her face. “Don’t stay up all night, but have fun. I’m going to bed.”
Her gaze searches mine for a second, a silent intimacy that soothes me.
“Night, baby girl.”
“Night, Ronan. Thank you again.”
I want to tell her not to thank me. I also want to tell her to call me Daddy instead of Ronan. But I don’t say either. Mostly because I’m not sure how to process the feeling of wanting to Daddy her. Instead, I gently brush the back of my fingers over her cheek, then stride out of the room.
T he smell of coffee and bacon hits me as soon as we step into Declan’s dining room, the kind of hearty breakfast spread that only happens in this house, thanks to his amazing house manager. Plates piled with eggs, pancakes, and every breakfast meat imaginable are already laid out across the massive dining table, and chatter and laughter fills the air.
Declan stands at the head of the table, pouring coffee into Cali’s mug while she leans into him, her hand on his arm. Killian and Scarlet are seated, along with Kieran and Paisley, who share a plate of food like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Grady steals a piece of toast from Katie’s plate, and Paige is sipping her coffee with a knowing grin. It’s chaos, but it’s our chaos.
I guide Tessa to an empty seat near the middle, my hand resting lightly on her lower back. She still looks a little overwhelmed, but she sits quietly, offering small smiles to everyone around her. I sit beside her, reaching for the coffee pot and pouring a cup for each of us. This whole situation is strange, and I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. In a way, she just lost her parents, the people she thought loved her. Now, she’s been forced into my family in a way she’s not used to. Sure, she’s known my siblings and me for a long time, but this is different.
“Morning, newlyweds!” Scarlet chirps from across the table, her grin wicked. “How’s married life treating you so far?”
“Scarlet,” Killian mutters, shooting her a look. “Maybe don’t scare her off before she’s had her coffee.”
Scarlet rolls her eyes. “If you guys haven’t scared her off already, I think it’s safe to say she’s not going anywhere.”
Killian stares at his wife, his eyebrows drawn together. Then he mutters something about brats that has me smiling.
“I’m fine,” Tessa says quickly. “Thank you.”
The conversations swirl around us as everyone digs in, the clatter of silverware mixing with laughter and teasing. It’s familiar, grounding, and I find myself relaxing more with each bite my new wife takes. Tessa stays quiet, but I catch her glancing around the table, her gaze lingering on each of the couples.
“Daddy, can you pass the syrup?” Chloe’s voice cuts through the noise.
Bash hands her the syrup without missing a beat, his lips quirking in a small smile. “Not too much. You don’t need to start the day with a plate of pure sugar.”
Tessa freezes beside me, her fork hovering in midair. I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, and sure enough, her gaze flicks to me. Her brows furrow in question. She doesn’t say anything, but the way her lips press together tells me she’s holding back a thousand questions.
I don’t bring it up. Not here. Instead, I focus on eating, keeping the conversation light, and steering the attention away from her as much as I can.
When breakfast is over, I usher her out of the house and into my SUV to make the short drive to my house. Paige stays behind, saying she’s going to help Declan with some new décor ideas for his office, but I think it’s just an excuse. Knowing my sister, she wants this marriage to be real and is trying to give us some alone time. I’m going to have to set her straight on that. This is just a temporary arrangement. Maybe if I tell my sister that, I’ll believe it too.
When we’re finally back at my house, the air between us feels… charged. She’s quiet as we walk inside, but I can tell her mind is working overtime. I stand awkwardly in the kitchen, waiting for her to break the silence.
“So…” she starts, her cheeks turning bright pink. “This morning. At breakfast. The whole… ‘Daddy’ thing. What was that about?”
I lean against the counter, crossing my arms as I meet her gaze. “It’s part of their relationships. My brothers and their women are in Daddy Dom, power exchange dynamics. It’s normal for them.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Daddy Dom, power exchange dynamics?”
I nod. “It’s a dynamic in the BDSM world. It’s not what it might sound like on the surface—it’s about care, trust, and protection. A Daddy Dom takes on a nurturing role, and their partner, the submissive, trusts them to provide guidance and structure. It’s not just about… physical stuff. It’s emotional, too.”
She processes that, her teeth catching her bottom lip. “And… you? Are you…”
I nod again, slower this time, hoping I don’t scare the hell out of her or disgust her. “Yeah. I’m a Daddy Dom.”
She looks away, but the curiosity is still sparkling in her pretty eyes. “I didn’t realize… Does that mean…?”
“It means I prefer relationships where I take on that role. I like being the one to provide support, to protect, and guide. It’s not about control in a negative way—it’s about trust. Mutual trust.”
She’s quiet for a moment, then looks back at me, her brow furrowed. “And the women… they just call you Daddy? Isn’t that… weird?”
I chuckle softly. “It might seem that way from the outside, but in the right dynamic, it feels natural. It’s not about the word itself—it’s about the meaning behind it.”
She nods slowly. “So, it’s more about… responsibility? Connection?”
“Yes,” I reply, impressed with how quickly she’s catching on. “It’s not for everyone, but for the people it works for, it creates a deep bond.”
Her lips twitch, and for a moment, I think she’s going to laugh, but she doesn’t. “And you’ve always been like this?”
“Yeah, Tessa. It’s who I am,” I say simply. “But it’s not something I push on anyone else. It only works if both parties in the relationship are all in.”
She nods again, her expression thoughtful. “Thanks for explaining. I guess I… never really understood it before.”
“You can always ask,” I say. “About anything.”
Her smile is small but genuine. “Thanks, Ronan.”
After that, she excuses herself to head upstairs, saying something about taking a nap. I watch her leave, my thoughts spinning as I lean against the counter.
I don’t know what’s more dangerous—the fact that she’s curious or the fact that I want to be her Daddy.