14. Tessa
14
TESSA
R onan’s hand moves gently against my back, slow and steady, the rhythmic motion making it impossible to keep my eyes open. I sink deeper into his chest. The warmth of his body soothes me. His deep voice murmurs something low, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. I’m too far gone, too lost in the quiet comfort of him.
When I open my eyes again, it takes me a second to realize we’re not in the living room anymore. Ronan is carrying me, one arm cradling my back, the other under my knees. With my head pressed against his chest, I can hear the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.
“Hey, sleepyhead.”
“What are you doing?”
“Taking care of you,” he says simply. “You fell asleep. I’m taking you up to bed.”
I blink up at him, his features softened in the dim light of the hallway. My mind is fuzzy, but as I glance around, I realize this isn’t my bedroom. It’s his. “Ronan… this isn’t?—”
“You’re sleeping here tonight.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
I should protest, but I don’t. Because I don’t want to be alone tonight. Or ever. And I want whatever happens between us.
His room is just as I imagined. Dark walls, clean lines, and everything in its place. The bed is massive, covered in dark-gray sheets that look both sleek and comfortable. He moves to the edge, easing me down gently, his hands careful and deliberate as he tucks the blanket around me.
“Ronan…” I’m uncertain, but he cuts me off with a quiet shake of his head.
“Sleep, baby girl,” he says, his tone softening as he leans down and brushes a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll be right here.”
Before I can respond, he steps away. A second later, a soft glow illuminates the room. It’s the bathroom light, but he dimmed it so it’s not too bright. My breath catches. He remembers. Of course he does. Ronan pays attention to everything I say.
He leaves the bedroom door open, just wide enough to let me know I’m not shut in. The small gesture feels monumental, and my chest tightens with a wave of emotion I don’t have words for.
I don’t have long to dwell on it. Ronan steps into his walk-in closet, and when he comes back out, my mouth goes dry. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, the fabric sitting low on his hips, giving me a full view of his muscular, tattooed body.
His chest is broad. Dark ink covers most of his skin—intricate designs, symbols, words I can’t quite read in the dim light. He’s breathtaking, and my heart beats so loudly I’m sure he can hear it.
He glances at me, his brow furrowing slightly while the corners of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “You okay?”
I nod quickly, my face heating as I look away, but I can’t help sneaking another glance. As he approaches the bed, I wonder what he’s going to do. Is he expecting something? My heart races at the thought. I want him, but I don’t know what I’m doing.
He slides into bed beside me, his body warm and solid as he pulls me into his arms. His chest presses to my back, one arm draping over my waist as he holds me close. He’s hard and jutting against my ass, but he doesn’t do anything about it. Instead, he presses a soft kiss to the top of my head, his lips lingering for just a moment before he whispers, “Sleep, baby girl. I’ve got you.”
As I close my eyes, letting myself sink into the comfort of him, one thought echoes in my mind. I’m in love with Ronan Gilroy. My hero, my husband. And now, my Daddy.
T he smell of coffee fills the kitchen, warm and rich, mixed with the sweet scent of pancakes, and I’m totally in heaven. I sit at the island, holding a steaming mug in my hands, watching Ronan move around the kitchen like he owns the place—which, technically, he does. He’s still shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants, and it’s a miracle I haven’t dropped my mug from sheer distraction. This is the first time other than last night that I’ve seen him in something other than a suit, and it’s a beautiful freaking sight.
“More coffee?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder with one brow raised.
I nod quickly, hoping my cheeks aren’t as red as they feel. “Sure. Thanks.”
He smirks like he knows exactly what’s going through my head. The man is devastatingly good-looking. He sets a plate of pancakes in front of me, adding a pat of butter that melts almost instantly, before sitting down with his own breakfast.
“Eat up, baby girl.”
“Yes, Sir,” I mutter under my breath, taking a bite to avoid his gaze.
I think the Sir part might have rattled him a bit because he clears his throat and then does it three more times before he finally takes a sip of coffee.
The moment is interrupted when the front door slams shut so hard it practically shakes the house.
“I’m home!” Paige’s voice rings out, followed by her boots thudding against the floor as she strides into the kitchen. “Miss me?”
I glance at Ronan, who rolls his eyes but gets up to hug his little sister. “Paige, do you have to announce yourself like a tornado every time you come home?”
“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” she shoots back. “Why are you practically naked?”
Ronan closes his eyes and shakes his head. Then he moves back over to his spot and sits down, resting his hand on my knee as I giggle at Paige’s comment.
Her eyes immediately lock onto me, then shift to Ronan, her gaze narrowing. “Wait a minute. Why do you two look so… cozy?”
Ronan leans an elbow on the counter, smirking at her as she continues to stare at us suspiciously. “Because it’s morning, and we’re having breakfast. That’s what people do, Paige.”
Paige waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t give me that. There’s a vibe. I can feel it.”
I try to hide my grin behind my coffee mug, but Paige is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out juicy details. She rounds the island and plants herself on the other side of me, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Oh my God. Something happened, didn’t it? You two… oh, this is good.” She claps her hands together, her grin widening. “Ronan, get out. I need to talk to Tessa. Alone.”
Ronan raises a brow, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “This is my house.”
“And I’m your sister, so scoot,” she says, shooing him like a dog. “You’ve had your time with her. Now it’s my turn.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he grabs his coffee and plate, then heads out of the kitchen. “Don’t corrupt her, Paige. Unlike you, she’s a good girl.”
“Bye!” she calls after him, spinning back to face me. Her grin is wicked. “Now, spill.”
I laugh, setting my mug down. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” she says, her eyes practically glowing. “You two were sitting there all cozy, and he was shirtless. Shirtless , Tessa. That’s a big deal. I’ve known my brother all my life, and I’ve only seen him in regular clothes like a handful of times. Now, tell me what happened.”
I roll my eyes, but her enthusiasm is contagious. “Fine, but you have to let me talk without interrupting.”
She mimes zipping her lips but then immediately unzips them. “Okay, but if it’s really good, I reserve the right to scream.”
I laugh again, shaking my head. “Deal. So, yesterday, we kissed. And I slept in his bed with him.”
Paige gasps so loudly I’m sure Ronan hears it from the next room. “You kissed? And slept together?”
“We didn’t have sex. We actually slept,” I say, fighting a smile. “And we talked a lot last night, and um, well….”
She leans forward, practically bouncing in her seat. “Well?”
I hesitate, my cheeks warming. “I haven’t stopped thinking about him being a Daddy ever since he told me, so we talked about what a dynamic would be like for us, and well, I think we’re in a relationship, and he’s my Daddy now.”
Paige lets out a squeal, grabbing my hands and shaking them excitedly. “Oh my God! Tessa, this is huge! I knew you two had chemistry, but this is next level.”
My heart pounds as warmth spreads. I’m so happy my friend is excited for us. “It feels… right. Like I don’t have to worry or be scared around him because he takes care of me. He takes control, and I like it.”
“That’s because my brother is a control freak,” Paige says with a wink. “But in a good way. He’s, like, the best kind of overbearing. You’re going to love it.”
Before I can respond, Ronan’s voice cuts in as he walks back into the kitchen. “Paige, are you done gasping and asking questions yet?”
“Not even close! We can talk more later. I need to go shower and get ready for work. But for now, I’m happy for both of you. You deserve it.”
We throw our arms around each other, hugging each other tightly.
“Love you, bestie,” Paige whispers.
“Love you, too,” I whisper back, kissing her cheek before releasing her.
As she passes Ronan, she sticks her tongue out at him, then skips off giggling. He laughs and shakes his head, then comes to me and slips his hand over my throat, giving the sides a gentle squeeze.
“The next time you call me something, I want you to call me Daddy.” Then he presses a kiss to my forehead and winks at me. “I need to take a shower and go to work. Finish your pancakes and relax, baby.”
My cheeks are still hot when I finish my breakfast. After I place my plate in the sink, I head up to take my own shower because my panties are drenched and my thighs sticky. Most of all, though, my heart is so full it feels like it could explode with happiness. Maybe arranged marriages aren’t always bad.
I nstead of spending the day alone with my thoughts while Ronan and Paige went to work, I send some emails following up on a job lead. By the time six o’clock rolled around, though, I was anxious to see Ronan again. He texted me several times throughout the day, checking on me, but it wasn’t the same as being in his arms. There’s something about being in his presence that soothes all the broken pieces of me.
Ronan, being the thoughtful man he is, comes home with dinner from a Mexican restaurant.
“When we’re done eating, I have a list of rules to go over with you.”
I pause, my fork in midair. Rules are a normal part of this type of dynamic so I shouldn’t be surprised, but the mention of them is enough to make my core tighten. I’m not sure that I should be getting turned on, but I’m not going to think too deeply about it.
As soon as we finish dinner, Ronan cleans up, then tugs me into the living room. He sits in the same spot he did last night and settles me onto his lap again. His dark eyes are steady and reassuring as he pulls a piece of paper from the pocket of his slacks.
When he opens it, I glance down at the handwritten words. I don’t know when he did this, but the fact that he took the time to write it all out is sweet and makes this moment feel even more special.
I take the page from him, staring at it. At the top, in his bold, deliberate handwriting, are two words: Tessa’s Rules .
My heart flutters as my eyes scan the list. Each rule is numbered and written with care, and as I read, a mix of nerves and arousal swirl inside me.
You will communicate honestly and openly with me, always. No secrets between us.
Your health and well-being are my top priority. You will eat properly, get enough rest, and obey Daddy if I give you a task to do that will benefit your health.
Bedtime is 10:30 p.m. on weekdays, unless I give you permission to stay up later.
No self-criticism allowed.
You will let me know if something bothers you or makes you uncomfortable. This is another communication rule, but an important one.
You will ask permission before making big decisions.
No touching yourself or pleasuring yourself without permission.
You never leave the estate without bodyguards or me.
You’ll make safe choices. If you put yourself in danger, you will have serious consequences.
Daddy gets the final say in everything.
I stare at the list, my fingers brushing over the ink as I reread each rule. Some of them are straightforward, practical even, but others… others feel deeply intimate. My cheeks burn at number seven, and I clench my thighs as I think about asking for permission to touch myself.
“Well?” He’s watching me carefully, cradling me against him.
I bite my lip, feeling a little self-conscious. “Number three. Bedtime.”
His smile widens just slightly. “I knew that would get your attention.”
“It feels… strict,” I say hesitantly, though there’s no real complaint in my tone.
“It is,” he agrees. “But it’s also necessary. You’ve been through a lot, and rest is important for your mental and physical health. If there’s a good reason to stay up later, I might allow it.”
I nod, the logic sinking in, though I feel a little spark of rebellion at the idea of being told when to go to sleep. Still, there’s something oddly comforting about it.
“What happens if I break a rule?”
I’m pretty sure I know what happens. I’ve read enough online about this dynamic to know a lot of couples use different forms of discipline, including spanking. But I want to hear it from him.
“If you break a rule purposely, you will be punished. Most likely, you’ll find yourself over my lap with your pants and panties pulled down to your thighs, getting your bottom spanked. Other times, you might be grounded. Or denied orgasms. There are many other things I can think up too, I’m sure.”
A shiver works its way down my spine. I shouldn’t like what he just said. I should be appalled that he would punish me like a naughty little girl. Yet, my panties are soaked to the point that he might have a wet spot on his thigh when I climb off his lap.
“You like the idea of Daddy punishing you. Of me taking control and giving you rules,” he says, studying me.
Something hard presses against my bottom, and a rush of relief spreads through me. At least I’m not the only one turned on.
“Yes, Daddy,” I reply, nodding softly. “I do like it. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel safe.”
His eyes darken, his hold on my hip tightening just slightly. “Good girl. I like hearing you call me that. Fuck, I like it a lot.”
My core tightens at his praise, and I nearly moan. The warmth in his tone, the way he looks at me like I’m the sexiest thing in the world—it sends a rush through me.
“I like it, too,” I whisper.
I like it so much that it scares me. Because what happens when he discovers that I’m still so fucked up inside? Will he decide I’m too much to deal with? I’m not sure I’d be able to handle losing Ronan. I’m pretty sure I’m completely and wholly in love with him.