12. Tessa
12
TESSA
T he obnoxious morning light filters through the curtains, pulling me out of my peaceful sleep. I stretch and let the memory of last night settle over me. Ronan’s hands in my hair, the steady rhythm of his voice, the way he stayed until I drifted off. It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever experienced.
Ronan is different than I expected. To everyone around him, he’s quiet, broody, and even a bit terrifying. But every time we’re alone, it’s like that layer disappears, and underneath is a gentle, thoughtful, kind man who treats me like I’m precious.
I sit up, yawning and brushing my hair out of my face. As I shuffle to the bathroom, I catch my reflection and wince. “Looking good, Tessa,” I mutter dryly.
A splash of cold water and a quick brush through my tangled locks later, I feel marginally more human. Padding downstairs, the smell of coffee greets me as it always does before I even reach the kitchen. Ronan might be my temporary husband, but he’s really freaking winning at the job.
When I round the corner and see the pot, fresh and steaming, my heart does a weird little flip because sitting beside it is a small note.
Good morning, Tessa. Coffee’s ready. Don’t forget to eat something, too. - R
I read it twice, the corners of my mouth lifting into a smile that feels too big for my face. My fingers trace the letters, and I can’t help but laugh softly. It’s such a simple thing, but it’s thoughtful, and it’s so Ronan. He didn’t have to do this. He never has to do any of the things he does for me, but he does them anyway.
“He’s like a smoking-hot coffee fairy,” I mutter under my breath, pouring myself a mug.
The first sip is pure heaven. It always is. Like a daily lifeline.
Leaning against the counter, I stare out the window, but I’m not looking at the view because my mind is too busy with thoughts of him.
Ronan .
The man who saved me when I thought I was going to die in that cell. Or worse, be sold off to live the rest of my days as a sex slave, because that’s what was going to happen. The man who married me to protect me, saving me for a second time, even though he didn’t have to.
My cheeks heat as memories of him flood my mind. The way his hands felt in my hair, the way his voice dropped to that soft, soothing tone when he spoke to me last night. The way he looks at me sometimes, like he wants to keep me. And I think I want him to. I also think I want to call him Daddy.
The word is foreign and thrilling. Erotic but comforting. I want to learn more about it.
After draining my mug, I rinse it in the sink and grab my laptop. Settling onto the couch, I pull up a search engine and, after a moment’s hesitation, type the words.
Daddy Kink
Within seconds, results flood the screen. Articles, forums, blogs—it’s overwhelming, but I click on a few links, skimming through the descriptions and explanations. It’s not what I expected, but I learn a lot from just the little bit I read. The main takeaway I get is that it’s about trust, care, and protection—a dynamic built on mutual respect and deep connection.
The more I read, the more my body reacts. My nipples ache, and my core clenches. The idea of being cared for, of having someone strong enough to guide me but gentle enough to let me grow, sends a shiver down my spine.
I close the laptop slowly, my mind drifting. The thought of Ronan in that role—of him being my Daddy—makes my cheeks burn. But it also feels…right. Like something I didn’t know I was searching for until now.
Before I can stop myself, I grab my phone. My fingers hover over the screen, hesitating for a moment. This is insane. He’s probably busy. What if he thinks I’m ridiculous? Or rejects me? That would be humiliating. It’s Ronan, though.
With a deep breath, I type the message and hit send before I can chicken out.
Tessa:I can’t stop thinking about you being a Daddy Dom.
As soon as it shows delivered, my heart lurches into my throat. “Oh my God,” I whisper. “I can’t believe I sent that.”
My phone buzzes, and I nearly jump out of my skin. Did he read it and respond that quickly?
After picking up the device, I stare at his name on the screen.
Ronan: Yeah? Tell me what you think about when you think of me being a Daddy Dom. What passes through that pretty mind of yours?
Oh, crap. What did I just get myself into? Do I tell him the truth? That I think about him dominating me? Daddying me? Owning me? I can’t say all that. Although it would be easier to say something like that over text instead of face to face. Staring at the screen, my fingers move fluidly as I type, erase, type, and erase several times before I’m satisfied.
Tessa: I wonder about what kind of Daddy you are. If you’re different in that role than the guy I know now.
Three dots appear immediately, and I bounce my leg anxiously, waiting for his response. It takes a few minutes, and the dots disappear several times, only making me more nervous. It’s torture.
Ronan: The type of Daddy I am? Protective. Strict. Fun. Controlling at times. Bossy. I like to be involved in my girl’s life. Her day-to-day life. Her routine. I give rules and expect them to be obeyed, or there are consequences. Usually, my girl ends up face-down over my lap, getting a red ass. But most of all, I’m her support system who always has her back, makes sure she’s happy and healthy, and feels cared for.
I read his text three times, my panties growing damp and my heart racing. I’m not sure what kind of answer I was expecting, but somehow, all of that is what I pictured when I thought of Ronan being a Daddy.
What am I supposed to say back? He gave me my answer. But I don’t want the conversation to end. My phone buzzes in my hand again.
Ronan: Does the idea of having a Daddy intrigue you, Little one?
Ronan: And remember, lying to me isn’t allowed.
Shoot.
Tessa: I haven’t stopped thinking about it since we first talked about it. If I’m being totally honest, I’ve only thought about you being a Daddy.
Ronan: A Daddy or YOUR Daddy, Tessa?
I stare at Ronan’s last text, my heart hammering against my ribs. I clutch my phone tightly, my palms sweating, and read his message again, letting it settle in my mind.
I shift on the couch, my body humming with aroused energy that I’ve never experienced to this degree. My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I try to figure out how to respond. Do I tell him the truth? Do I deflect? My heart screams one thing while my mind races with reasons why it wouldn’t work between me and Ronan. Which is sort of ridiculous, considering we’re married.
The phone buzzes in my hand again, startling me.
Ronan:Take your time, Little one. But don’t ignore me.
His text is firm but patient, like he’s giving me space while still holding me accountable. My cheeks heat, and I bite my lip. He’s not going to let this conversation slide. He’s waiting for me to be honest, and somehow, that is both comforting and terrifying.
I close my eyes for a moment, gathering the courage to admit the truth—to him and myself . When I open them, I take a deep breath and start typing.
Tessa: My Daddy.
The words are barely out before I hit send. My fingers tremble with disbelief as I toss the phone onto the cushion beside me. I can’t believe I admitted that to him. It’s true, though. I’ve always had eyes for Ronan. Even before I was kidnapped. As a teen, running around the Gilroy estate with Paige, I spent a lot of time with him over the years and started crushing on him then. After he saved me, there was never any man I’ve even thought of in the way I do Ronan.
My pulse races, every nerve in my body on high alert as I wait for his reply. The silence stretches. Each second passing is torture until the phone buzzes again.
I grab it quickly. My breath catches as I read his response.
Ronan:Good girl. That’s what I thought.
The simple praise sends a shiver down my spine, a warmth spreading through me that I can’t quite name. I sink back into the cushions, rereading his text while the tension in my chest start to unravel.
The phone buzzes again, pulling me from my thoughts.
Ronan: And for the record, I’ve thought about being your Daddy too.
Ronan:Do you want to talk more about it, or do you need some time to process it?
I type my reply carefully, my fingers steadier this time.
Tessa:I want to talk about it. I want to understand what it would mean… to have you as my Daddy.
The dots appear immediately, and I brace myself, holding my breath for his answer.
Ronan:It would mean you’d never have to carry anything alone. It would mean structure, safety, and consequences when needed. But most of all, it would be a bond we share that is only ours. Something special and unique.
His words settle within me. Fear, excitement, nerves. Then there’s his response. No hesitation. No doubt. He knows exactly what he’s offering, and it’s more than I ever imagined.
I swallow hard.
Tessa: That sounds…perfect.
His reply is immediate.
Ronan:It will be. I’ll be home around seven. We’ll talk more about it then. But for now, just know this: you already belong to me, and not just because we’re married.
His final words send a shiver down my spine. I may not fully understand what I’m stepping into, but I know one thing for sure—I trust Ronan. Completely.