Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
MAKENZIE
I rish had a meeting, he called it church, at The Watchmen’s Clubhouse and Makenzie had tagged along, deciding to work there instead of at his office. She looked at the budget on the computer screen but didn’t see it. She was supposed to be reworking the numbers, running a few different scenarios for Irish but her thoughts wouldn’t stop going back to last night. She’d slept with Irish. They didn’t have sex, hell he didn’t even kiss her besides the soft one he placed on her forehead. But the intimacy of cuddling in his arms and talking until late in the night, felt deeper than having sex.
She hadn’t agreed to be in a DDLG relationship with him, not exactly. She did consent to giving it a trial run for the next week. She still hadn’t decided what she was going to do when the week was up. Everything was moving quickly. She’d left her fiancé at the altar, sold her house, and resigned from her job, and now she was going to do a test run DDLG relationship with her older brother’s best friend.
Everything was moving at lightning speed.
The buzz of Makenzie's phone shattered the stillness of the room, a sudden burst of noise that made her jump. Hesitant fingers swiped across the screen, unveiling words that twisted her stomach into knots. There’d been several new messages from this person in the past two days. She didn’t understand where the calls were originating. Each time, she blocked the number, but it didn’t stop them from coming from new numbers.
Unknown Caller: Watch your back. You won’t get away with it. You caused pain and now it’s time for you to receive some in return.
A chill swept through her, prickling her skin with goosebumps. Standing from the table, she tucked her phone into her pants pocket. She walked over to the sidebar where Tater had placed plenty of baked goods and fresh fruit. Picking up a plate, she absentmindedly placed a blueberry muffin on it. After refilling her coffee cup, she walked back to where she’d been working and set the food down next to the laptop. Clover came bounding over and Makenzie rubbed her between her ears.
She began to pace around the quiet room. Occasionally, she’d hear laughter coming from upstairs and she’d hope the meeting was going to end soon and they’d be down. She felt safe in this space, she knew no one could get in uninvited, but still, a heavy unease settled over her. She was on edge, waiting for her phone to vibrate again.
“Something wrong?” Irish asked a few minutes later as he approached.
“I—”
“Mak, baby, remember the conversation we had last night? We keep nothing from each other. The only way our relationship will work is if you are open and honest with me.”
“I got another one,” she whispered, fishing her phone out of her pocket.
“Another what, baby?”
“Another threatening text message.”
“Baby girl, I need you to be very clear with Daddy right now. What do you mean another threatening text message? Tell me everything.”
“I screenshotted each one before I blocked the numbers, but they are just using another number. I don’t know how they are doing it.” She handed him the phone. His eyes narrowed as he read. Protective fury replaced his smile.
“Nobody threatens what's mine,” he growled, the vice-president patch on his cut seeming to bristle with his anger.
“My first guess is Eugene?” His question sliced the silence, and she shook her head.
“I don’t think so. It’s not something he’d likely do.” It was too obvious, too convenient to blame the jilted fiancé she'd abandoned at the altar.
Irish's jaw clenched; determination was etched in the set of his mouth. He pulled out his phone, punching in numbers with purpose. The line rang once, twice, thrice before a click signaled the connection.
“Eugene,” Irish's voice held a steely edge. “We need to talk.”
Makenzie watched as Irish paced, his conversation with Eugene a series of terse questions and sharp glances her way. Finally, he ended the call, the finality echoing in the click of the disconnect.
“He denied everything,” Irish said, frustration simmering beneath his words. “And I believe him.”
“I wouldn’t think he’d be the type.”
He took her by the hand and walked her over to where she’d been working. “Sit here and don’t move. I’m going to call Jay and ask him to come. In the meantime, I need you to type me up a list of anyone you think could be behind this, even if it’s a distant possibility.”
Makenzie worked through the list as Irish made his calls. Who could it be? She blinked back anger, whoever it was, she didn’t deserve this. She scribbled names down on a piece of paper. Eugene’s sister, who was fiercely protective of him, or Jamie, maybe Joseph James. She chewed on the tip of the pen trying to think of anyone else. No other names came to her.
Irish came back inside and walked over to her, squatting beside her, he took the list. “Is this it? Just three?”
“Do you expect me to have a long list of enemies who hate me?” She asked.
“No, sweet girl. I’m shocked you have three.” Jay came walking in then.
“Got your message, Irish,” Jay said without preamble, turning to face them. “Threats are no joke.”
“Thanks for coming on such short notice, Jay,” Irish replied, his tone appreciative yet edged with urgency.
“As luck would have it, I was a couple blocks away when you called.” Jay's gaze shifted to Makenzie, respectful but assessing. “You must be Makenzie. Sorry we're meeting under these circumstances.”
“Hi,” she responded, a small wave accompanying her greeting. Her voice didn't quite carry the confidence she wished it did. She looked inquisitively at the woman who stood beside him.
“This is my girlfriend, Natasha.”
“Tasha.” She reached her hand out to Makenzie. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” she said shyly. Great, the first time she was meeting her, and she’d hear all the dirty details about the people who disliked her.
“Is it okay if I go and say hi to Kylie?” Natasha asked Jay.
“Yes, of course,” Jay said and watched her walk away. “Let's see what we're dealing with," he said.
Makenzie pulled out her phone, the offending object feeling heavier than usual. With a few swipes, she opened the messaging app, exposing the last text message. Jay took the phone, his fingers dancing across the touchscreen with precision.
“Any idea who's doing this?” Jay asked, eyes not leaving the screen.
“Irish had me make a list,” Makenzie said. “There’s only three people I could think of who might do something like this.”
“Right,” Jay murmured, already lost in his digital hunt.
Irish's squeezed Makenzie’s shoulder in support. She leaned into his touch, drawing strength from his strong arms.
“These are Google numbers.”
“Google numbers?”
“Google voice. You can change the number as much as you want and with free email addresses, there are unlimited options. Tracing the source won't be easy,” Jay's voice cut through the tension. “But give me time and I'll find it. In the meantime, the best thing to do is change your number so they can’t keep texting you from spoof accounts.”
“Change my number? I use it for everything. I mean, my number is attached to all my banking accounts, social media platforms, everything. It’s used to send confirmation codes and to authenticate my entire digital footprint.”
“I get it,” Jay said. “Truly. But as long as they have your number, they have access to you. The best thing to do in this situation is to go through the hassle and change everything. Honestly, I recommend an authenticator app instead of using your phone. I can set it all up for you.”
“We appreciate it,” Irish spoke up. “If Jay says the best thing to do is to change your number, I think you should consider it.”
She’d had the same number since she was sixteen. Fourteen years. “It feels wrong, like the bad guy is going to win,” she said, defeated.
“Don’t think about it that way. Think about it as a fresh start. That’s what you were wanting, right? It’s another step in the direction of a clean slate,” Irish said.
She nodded slowly. “I guess. I’ve never changed my number before, how do we do it?”
“I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” Makenzie squeezed Irish's hand, her own resolve hardening.
After thanking Jay again and leaving her phone with him to change her number, she followed Irish upstairs.
“Where are we going?”
“To my room,” Irish said softly.
“Your room?”
“Yes. Upstairs is a conference room, but also each officer has their own bedroom here, and we have a couple spare rooms for members to use. Sometimes, people are working late or standing security and need to take a rest. Other times they use them for other reasons. The bedrooms have their own bathrooms and are equipped with soundproof walls.”
“Soundproof walls?”
“Yes, in case someone wants to have sex or discipline their partner.”
“Oh,” Makenzie said. “Why are we going upstairs?”
“Because, little girl, we are about to have a talk about you keeping things from your Daddy.”
Makenzie’s heart flip-flopped in her chest as she followed him up the stairs and down the hall. Irish held his badge up to the keypad and the door unlocked. The room was much larger than she thought it would be. The space was warm and inviting. A large king bed sat in the middle of it, and a big desk was off to the side with a comfy looking chair.
Makenzie took in her surroundings with wide eyes, the realization sinking in that she was about to have a serious conversation with Irish, her new Daddy.
“Sit down, Makenzie,” Irish said, gesturing toward the edge of the bed. His tone was firm but gentle, a subtle reminder of the authority he held over her.
Makenzie obeyed, perching nervously on the edge of the mattress as Irish took a seat beside her. He reached out, taking her hand in his, his touch grounding her in the present moment.
“I'm disappointed in you,” he said softly, his gaze steady. “You should have told me about those texts when you got the first one, even if you weren’t my Little then. If you told me that was why you looked at your text when driving, we could have started investigating yesterday. I can overlook you not telling me before we agreed to give this relationship a go, but you absolutely should have told me the second you agreed to be mine and another text came in. I saw the time stamps on the messages, Makenzie. Including one that came in while you were lying in my arms after you agreed to be mine.”
A lump formed in Makenzie’s throat at his words. She couldn’t even lie and say she didn’t think about it, because when the text came in last night, she agreed to give their relationship a try. It would have been the perfect time to tell Irish, but they were having a good night, and she didn’t want the threats to mar it. She intended to tell him first thing this morning, but they got busy and she put it off and put it off…
“I'm sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Irish's expression softened slightly. “I know, sweetheart. And I'm not angry with you. But I need you to understand that communication is key in our relationship. You need to trust me enough to come to me with anything, no matter how difficult. I can’t protect you from threats that I don’t know about.”
Makenzie nodded in agreement. “I understand. I should have told you last night. I thought about it, but I didn’t want to upset the mood. I was going to tell you first thing this morning, but we got busy and I never got around to it.”
“Sweetheart, I would have called Jay and asked him to look into it and gone right back to cuddling you in my arms. I made it pretty clear last night that you were to put your safety first, did I not? Above all other things?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes, Daddy,” he corrected gently.
“Yes, Daddy,” she parroted.
“Good girl. I also made it clear that there would be no secrets between us going forward, did I not? No lies including those of omission?”
“Yes, Daddy. You did. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night.”
“What do you think should happen now, Makenzie?”
“I think you should hug me and forgive me.”
“I agree.”
“You do?” she asked hopefully.
“I do. But, before I forgive you and hug you, I’m going to spank your little ass. Stand up.”
Makenzie's eyes went wide with surprise as Irish pulled her up from the bed. He guided her to the edge of it and sat down, patting his lap.
“Pants and undies down, baby girl,” he said firmly.
Makenzie hesitated but only for a moment. She trusted Irish implicitly, knew he would never hurt her. Slowly, she slid her jeans and panties down her thighs, her cheeks burning as she exposed her bare bottom to him. She had never been spanked before as an adult. Would it be like her stories? How badly would it hurt? She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought about what was about to happen.
He guided her over his lap, one of his large hands rested on the small of her back, pressing her down into him. Without warning, his other hand came down on her bottom with a firm smack. Makenzie yelped, the sting smarting more than she expected.
“Good, I have your full attention,” he said. “In order for our relationship to work, you need to be honest with me. No hiding things from Daddy. Understand me?”
“Yes, Daddy!”
“Especially anything that concerns your health or safety.” Irish's hand landed on her bottom with a stinging smack that made her jump.
“Ouch!” she yelped. He landed another one on her other cheek, making Makenzie squirm slightly. “Ow, Daddy!” she whined, squirming more as he rained another three smacks on each cheek in quick succession.
Despite the sting, warmth pooled between her legs and heat crept into her cheeks. Her nipples hardened against the bedspread and Makenzie was acutely aware of how her body was reacting to Irish’s ministrations.
Irish's hand landed harder and faster, and she began to wiggle in earnest, a mixture of pain and arousal coursing through her veins. After an especially hard swat to the bottom of her cheeks, she reared up. “It hurts!”
“It is supposed to hurt, Mak. I need you to understand how important it is to communicate with me. I can’t keep you safe if you don’t tell me what’s going on. It’s my job to keep you safe and one I take seriously. Now, settle down and take your spanking like a good girl.”
She was going to be brave and take her spanking like a big girl. She was going to make him proud and lay there and?—
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” she yelled mid thought, kicking her feet back. Damn. A fire was spreading across her cheeks.
Irish quickly shifted his knees up higher and trapped her legs behind one of his strong ones. He didn’t say a word but applied several sharp swats to the top of her sensitive thighs. She cried out from the pain, and a switch went off in her mind. This spanking was long overdue in her life. She needed it. She needed him. She relaxed her upper body and submitted to the dominance and discipline her Daddy was wielding.
The spanking went on for what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute or two before Irish stopped. By then, Makenzie was sniffling into the comforter. Her bottom burned and tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered, unable to keep the words inside any longer. “I won’t do it again, Daddy, I promise.”
Irish rubbed soothing circles on her stinging bottom, his touch soothing away some of the sting. “I know you won’t, sweet girl.” He shifted and pulled her onto his lap, lifted her chin gently with his finger and wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumbs.
“Do you forgive me, Daddy?”
“Of course. You are completely forgiven. I will never hold anything over your head after you’ve paid the price for it.” He kissed her forehead tenderly then pulled her into a tight hug. Just like he said he’d do.
That evening, Irish and Makenzie were cuddling on the couch watching cartoons when Irish spoke up. “I should have told you about my involvement in the lifestyle on the way home from the airport instead of testing you to see how you would react. Being a Daddy is a part of me.”
“Me too,” she confessed. “I never felt more understood then when I was part of the forums. There’s a need inside of me, the...the need to surrender, to trust someone completely. I thought it was bad and disruptive. I’ve been hiding that part of me for a year now, repressing it deep down. I had to hide that part of me from you, too.”
“From me? You never need to hide. Not from me.”
“I know that now. But you know my family and my mother is reeling from me leaving Eugene. If they found out…”
“Do you talk about your sex life a lot with your mother?”
Irish’s question took her off guard. “What? No, I mean, does anyone?”
“Then why would they need to know?”
“Being a Little isn’t my sex life though… I mean, I don’t want just a Daddy in the bedroom. Is that what you want?” Her heart seemed to stop beating while she waited his answer. Of course, this was too good to be true.
“No. Absolutely not.” Irish said and Makenzie breathed again. “It’s a lifestyle I want to live. But no one you aren’t comfortable knowing about it, has to. When it’s just you and me, I want you to call me Daddy and be free to let your defenses down. The outside world isn’t open enough to understand and when we are working with clients and donors, it has to be very vanilla. I’d love to be able to be as open with our lifestyles as other vanilla married couples, but we can’t, and it sucks. If you need to keep it from your family to protect your mental well-being, I understand.” Irish's thumb traced circles on her knuckles, a gesture both soothing and possessive.
The hum of the city faded into a distant murmur as Irish and Makenzie retreated into the private sanctuary of his house. Makenzie curled up on the leather couch, tucking her feet beneath her. She watched the way Irish moved around the room, the soft light casting shadows over his muscular frame. He was a presence, commanding yet comforting, like a shelter in a storm. His red hair seemed to hold the last glimmers of sunlight, giving him an aura of warmth. She was surprised at how quickly the pain from the spanking had faded and disappeared. It’d hurt while he was doing it, but within the hour, all affects were faded… the arousal on the other hand, hadn’t faded as quickly. Turned out, not only could she take a spanking, her body liked it.
“Comfortable, baby?” he asked, his voice rumbling through the quiet.
“Very,” she replied, her eyes following him as he settled down next to her, close enough that she could feel the heat from his body.
They talked casually at first, small talk that danced around the edges of their mutual arousal.
“Can I tell you about one on my fantasies, Daddy?”
Irish turned to her. “Always. I want to hear all of your fantasies. Maybe I can make a few of them come true.”
She hesitated only for a second, then launched into a tale where she was the princess in a hidden castle, and he was the visitor who discovered her. “But it's not all sparkling tiaras and fancy ball gowns,” she said, her cheeks warming with a blush. “I want to be cherished—and commanded. Like, you are a prince, but also you are a villain, too. But it's the villain side that keeps me safe from the real monsters, like the fire breathing dragon who wants to destroy the castle and eat me for lunch.”
He nodded, his expression unreadable for a moment before a slow smile spread across his lips. “So, I'm your protector and I get to eat you for lunch instead.”
Makenzie's heart skipped. “Daddies don’t eat their Littles!”
“The good Daddies do. The ones who spoil and praise their Little for being such a good girl. Tell me more about what this prince charming villain would do,” he urged, his tone dropping an octave, thrumming with a dominance that sent shivers down her spine.
“In our castle, he would make rules, set expectations, but only ones that are easy to follow and nothing yucky like eating green beans.” She bit her lip, emboldened by the flicker of interest in his eyes, she continued. “And I'd follow them because I trust him. Because he knows what's best for his little princess and how to keep her safe. We’d play a lot of games and he’d give me a magical jump rope. When I jumped it, it would take me to anywhere I wanted to go, with Daddy of course. I’d go see the mermaids swimming their lagoon and I’d ride the back of a Pegasus and…”
Irish reached out, his fingers tracing a line down her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “And what happens if my princess steps out of line?”
“Well then...the villain inside of the prince would come out and would have to remind her who's in charge.” Her breath hitched as she met his gaze.
Makenzie squealed and giggled as Irish playfully pulled her to her feet, spinning her around before settling her across his knee. She giggled again and gazed up at him with wide eyes. He raised one eyebrow, a mock-stern expression on his face that she could see right through. “You've been a very naughty girl, haven't you, princess?” he asked.
“I-I only wanted explore outside of the castle,” she stammered, wriggling slightly in his strong grip.
“I know exactly what you wanted,” he purred, his hand landing with a smack on her bottom. “And it's my job to keep you safe inside of these walls.” Another smack followed, this time harder than the first, making her yelp. Her nipples tightened almost painfully, and butterflies danced around her stomach. This. This moment right here is what she’d been longing for. It was everything she’d ever wanted and so much more.
“You left the castle without permission. You’ve earned this spanking, haven’t you, princess?”
“Yes, Daddy. I was a naughty girl who needs to be spanked,” she gasped, arching her back slightly to present herself for more.
Irish continued to spank her in a rhythmic pattern, alternating between swats that stung and caresses that soothed the heat away. “Do you want to be my little princess, Mak?”
“I don’t know Daddy, will I get a tiara?”
“I will get you the prettiest tiara you ever saw, princess.” He swatted and rubbed, the pattern making her ache with need.
“What about a magical jump rope?” She looked up and over her shoulder before batting her eyelashes dramatically at him.
“I’ll work on it. Do you know what else I’ll get?”
“What, Daddy?”
“To be the villain who eats you for dessert.” He stood up and put her on her feet and grabbed her hand. “And turns out, I’m mighty hungry right now.”
The anticipation was heavy in the air as Irish led her by the hand to his bedroom. His grip was firm but not painful, a reminder of his strength and control without any need for words. Makenzie's pulse raced with a thrilling mix of nerves and desire as she followed him willingly, her body tingling with anticipation for what awaited her. She wondered when she should tell him that she was a virgin. It wasn’t by design, not exactly. In college, she’d focused on her degree and getting the best grades possible. After, she’d dated a few men but nothing serious. Then, she’d been focused on her online Daddy Dom and since they’d never met… she’d never had sex. After that disaster she’d been with Eugene.
Lost in her thoughts, she jumped when Irish closed the door behind them. Irish turned to face her, his eyes darkening as he began to undress her, his hands moving slowly yet purposefully over her body. “Lift your arms up,” he commanded huskily, and she obeyed without hesitation, lifting her arms above her head as he peeled off her shirt. Her lacy bra and panties, one of the gifts in the bag left by Veronica, were next to go, until she stood before him naked and trembling with anticipation.
“Bend over the end of the bed, princess,” he purred in her ear, his voice taking on that low, authoritative tone that made her knees weak. Hesitantly, she did as he said, resting her stomach on the plush comforter while her bottom was up in the air, revealing herself to him completely.
He caressed her bottom once, twice, then delivered a firmer smack that stung but left a delicious warmth in its wake. “You were such a naughty little princess, going outside the castle walls without me,” he growled softly before landing another spank on her other cheek. She whimpered, playing along with their continued game, but didn't move away.
“I’m sorry for leaving the castle without you,” she said, enjoying the punishment more than she’d have ever expected. She had never felt so alive, like she could trust someone with her hidden desires without fear of judgment or ridicule. His hand landed again. He rubbed and squeezed the sting away after each swat—pain, then pleasure. Pain then pleasure. Desire built like a crescendo inside of her.
She swallowed thickly as he leaned into her ear, his voice low and husky. “Are you sure you are ready for this, princess?”
Makenzie's breath hitched before she answered. “Yes, Daddy. I’m very ready.” Strong hands gripped her hips before his mouth was on her neck, kissing and teasing a trail down her spine. Each touch of his lips sent shivers down her back, and she moaned softly, arching into him.
His hands trailed down further, parting her folds and slowly, he dipped a finger inside of her, sending a chorus of moans escaping from her lips. “You’re so wet for me, princess.”
He stood and took ahold of her shoulders, turning her around to face him. Irish's gaze darkened as he studied her naked body before slowly undressing himself. He was breathtakingly handsome—broad chest, washboard abs and muscular arms accentuated by the low lighting of the bedroom. As he shimmied out of his jeans, his arousal was more than evident. Makenzie swallowed hard at the sight of his long, thick cock. While she was a virgin, she had other experiences but none of them were comparable to Irish.
“You're more beautiful than any princess in any fairytale. My imagination wouldn’t have done the real thing justice. Do you know what I think our next order of business should be?”
Heart pounding like she’d just finished running a marathon, Makenzie licked her dry lips as he lowered himself to his knees before her. Irish's grin was nothing short of predatory as he looked up at her.
“What's that, Daddy?” she gasped out as he teased her entrance with feather-light touches that made her clench her core.
“To reward your daddy for ridding the kingdom of the pesky dragon," he growled ferociously and without further warning, he lowered his head and started to devour her. Makenzie's world exploded into a cacophony of sensations as Irish feasted upon her as if she were the delicious treat, he’d been craving. His tongue teased and lapped at every inch of her dripping wet core while his fingers plunged inside of her, curling inwards to hit that spot that made stars explode behind her eyelids.
“Daddy! Please!” she mewled, rocking into the pleasure he so expertly extracted from her body. Irish chuckled, as her nails raked into his shoulders, her body shuddering with need, she was so damn close.
“Mmm, Daddy likes it when you beg for more.” He continued to lap at her core, thrusting two fingers inside of her wet heat. She moaned deeply, her eyes closing as she concentrated on nothing more than the pleasure he was giving her. He sucked, licked, and teased until she was nothing more than a puddle of goo aching for an orgasm. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and Makenzie's moans as he brought her to the brink of orgasm only to pull back, leaving her panting for more. “Daddy, please!” she whimpered. “Please!”
Irish growled in response, his grip on her hips tightening. His pace quickened as he added a third finger, stretching her as he brought her to the brink again and again. His mouth latched on to her clit, sucking it between his teeth, drawing it into his warmth. He looked up, eyes full of hunger, and she knew. She knew that she was seconds away from flying apart. His look alone was enough to push her over the edge, and she came apart in his mouth with a loud cry, her body quaking with the force of her orgasm. Her legs trembled as she screamed his name, he continued to lick her clit as she rode the waves of pleasure.
As her gasps started to still, he slowly stood up, lifting her with him before laying her on the bed. “You tasted like heaven, princess. I’ve been dying to have you since I picked you up at the airport and saw what a beautiful woman you’ve become.” His words sent shivers down Makenzie's spine, but as his hips nestled between her thighs, and she felt his hardness push against her, a sudden wave of uncertainty washed over her.
“Wait... Stop, please,” she said quietly. It was enough to make him still instantly.
Irish looked down at her, his eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his hand reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face.
Makenzie hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to find the words. “I... I need to tell you something,” she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with nerves. Irish stopped everything and rolled off her. Propping himself up on an elbow, his expression softened, his eyes never leaving hers. She scooted to sitting up, her back against the bed’s headboard.
“You can tell me anything, princess. I will always stop when you ask. You are safe with me,” he assured her, his tone gentle.
Taking a deep breath, Makenzie gathered her courage. “I don’t want you to be disappointed. It’s just, I—I'm a virgin,” she confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Who made it to thirty a virgin? He must think she was a total loser.
For a moment, there was silence as Irish processed her words. But instead of the judgment or disappointment she had feared, all she saw in his eyes was understanding and acceptance.
“I wasn’t expecting that. Thank you for telling me, princess,” he said sincerely, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “It doesn't change how I feel about you. If anything, it makes me want you more. I’d love to be your first and hopefully last. If you aren’t ready today, we don’t have to.” Relief flooded through Makenzie as she realized that Irish truly cared for her, not just for her body but for who she was as a person.
“I’m ready. I’m so ready and I want it to be with you. I’ve heard it hurts and you aren’t exactly small, so I needed to tell you.”
Irish smiled, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “I’ll be as gentle as I can be, I promise. We’ll take things slow. I won't do anything you don't want me to. You can stop me anytime, no matter what.” He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear before his lips met hers in a soft, reassuring kiss. “If you ever want me to stop anything I’m doing, just say red. I’m trained to listen for that word, and I will stop. Okay?”
Makenzie nodded, her body trembling with anticipation as he laid her back on the bed. She watched him through half-lidded eyes as he positioned himself between her thighs again, this time moving even more slowly and carefully than before. His fingers tenderly brushed her thighs, making goosebumps erupt all over her skin. He took his time to seductively tease every inch of her skin before finally reaching the folds that so desperately ached for him.
“Relax for me, princess,” he whispered against her ear before nibbling his way down her neck making his way to her breasts again. Makenzie moaned as he sucked gently at her nipple, sending delicious sensations straight to between her legs. Her core clenched in anticipation as he teased and tortured her intimately with his tongue and fingers until she was once again on the edge of an orgasm.
“Irish!” she whimpered, arching up into him as he massaged her swollen nub between his fingers before sliding one inside of her aching core. His cock throbbed against her inner thigh, hard and ready for her.
“Soon, princess,” he promised.
It was pure torture, the way he teased every inch of her body except where she needed him most. She could feel her arousal coating her thighs as she trembled with need. “Irish, please,” she begged, desperation lacing her.
Finally, he relented. Gently easing himself inside of her, Makenzie gasped at the newfound fullness. He stretched her exquisitely, sending bolts of pleasure shooting through her entire body. He stilled, giving her time to get accustomed to his size, and despite the slight burning sensation, she craved more.
“Please!” He chuckled and started to move inside of her. She dug her nails into the sheets as he thrust deep and slow. Reaching between their bodies, he rubbed at her clit as his thrust quickened. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. He filled her completely, claiming every inch of her as his own. “Irish,” she moaned his name like a prayer as she clung to him, her legs wrapping around his waist to bring him even deeper inside.
“That’s it, princess,” he growled against her ear before picking up the pace even more, sliding in and out in a rhythm that soon had both of them moaning and gasping for air. He angled himself so that with each thrust, he hit an area deep within her. White-hot ecstasy exploded behind Makenzie's eyes, and she screamed his name over and over into the room as her second orgasm crashed into her.
And as he wrapped her in his arms after he found his own orgasm, holding her close, and kissing her tenderly. She knew that she had found someone whose actions lined up with his words. He respected her and here. In his arms, she finally felt safe.