Ronan
She is exquisite. Just as I knew she would be.
My stubborn girl, full of passion and fire. Watching her writhe and scream is everything I wanted and more.
Although I have no intention of pushing her past her limit today, I’m enthralled by the idea that she simply does not have one. Or at least she thinks she doesn’t.
Everyone has a limit. It’s getting them to find it that’s the fun part.
Some Doms use pain. Degradation. Humiliation.
I use pleasure.
By the time she leaves here, I want her to feel things she didn’t know she was capable of feeling. Sensations her body was capable of but never came close to experiencing.
There’s a pleasant little notion in the back of my mind as I make Daisy climax for the tenth—or is it eleventh?—time. The notion is a reminder that she and I have time. I don’t need to rush things or break her right away. We can delicately creep our way through this process, one session at a time, until she says we’re done or we find new ways to play—including her way.
Daisy is as curious as she is innocent. She’s not afraid to tell me what she likes or doesn’t like, which means we can have all the fun we want. I trust her to speak up when she’s reached her breaking point, which means I can really have fun without having to worry. With one major added bonus on top of it all.
I’m in love with her.
Absolutely out of my mind, twisted up, and drunk on this thing between us. This relationship that didn’t exist a month ago but has single-handedly breathed new life back into this old man. This bond is nothing like what I felt before—ever. My heart has been through a lot, but it’s never met its match like it has with Daisy.
“You’re doing so well, baby girl,” I murmur against her cheek, leaning down to kiss her sweat-soaked skin. “How are you doing? Give Daddy a color.”
“Green,” she says breathlessly.
“That’s my girl.”
She whimpers as I kiss her mouth, licking a line across her lips before taking her mouth to taste her desperation.
“You’ve soaked the bed, Daisy,” I say after pulling away. “I think you can give me one more.”
She whimpers again. “No, I can’t. No more, please.”
I run my fingers through her folds, spreading her wide before rubbing her swollen clit just to watch her writhe. “You’re not done yet, baby girl.”
“Fuck me,” she cries out. “Please, Daddy.”
I pause, my mouth halfway down to her throbbing core. My cock aches in my boxer briefs, desperate to give her what she wants. Desperate for a release of my own. This was never about getting myself off. Her pleasure is my pleasure. But knowing that fucking her is what she wants makes everything that much more potent and surreal.
A good Dom doesn’t lose control. I shouldn’t be letting her make demands like this when she’s supposed to be the submissive one, but I’m a weak man where she is concerned. After ripping my boxer briefs off, I situate myself between her legs. My protruding cock is pointed right at her glistening cunt, wet and ready for me.
I grip her thighs tightly as I hold her down and mutter, “Say it again, Daisy. Tell me what you want.”
Her lips part as she sucks in a delicate gasp. “Fuck me, Daddy.”
Reaching behind me, I yank off one Velcro strap, releasing her left leg.
“Again,” I say in a quick command.
“Fuck me, Daddy, please.” This time, it comes out in more of a whine, and I know she’s leaning into the role. I know it’s going to feel so fucking good when I finally sink into her. My cock is already leaking at the tip with anticipation.
I quickly tear off the other strap, freeing her other leg, then both of them are instantly wrapped around my hips, trying to pull me to her.
“You have a filthy fucking mouth, Daisy. You know that?”
“Yes,” she replies, then lets out a gasp when she feels the head of my cock teasing her.
“My dirty girl,” I say with a raspy brogue as I thrust inside her.
She lets out a cry as soon as I’m buried deep. Her cunt is like heaven, warm and throbbing. And once I’m in, I can’t stop. Hovering over her, I pound her into the mattress, her thighs clenching tightly around my hips. I can hardly breathe from the tightness in my chest as I lose control.
“You make me crazy, baby girl. Look what you do to me.” I grunt breathlessly.
When I notice her arms pulling against the restraints, I quickly undo each one, and her hands find my face, pulling me down for a kiss.
For a moment, we are breathing the same air. Our hearts pounding in unison. And we feel like one. We come at the exact same moment, both of us moaning and shivering together.
Neither of us moves for a long time. Our hands are clasped and our chests are fused. I don’t ever want to leave this spot.
But I realize that she needs aftercare. And I might have gotten a little rough toward the end there. So I pull out, lifting myself from her body as I notice that her cheeks are flushed red and she’s still wearing the blindfold.
With a smile, I pull it from her eyes, and she squints up at me. Her makeup is smeared, but she’s never looked more beautiful.
“How are you feeling?”
With a sweet, gentle sigh, she smiles. “Good.”
I kiss her nose. “Good.”
Reluctantly, I climb from the bed, going to grab her a bottle of water from the bar. Then I wet a washcloth in warm water and return to stretch out next to her.
“Come here, baby,” I murmur, pulling her into my arms. She sits up and takes the water, gulping down almost the entire thing. Once she’s done, I use the warm cloth to wipe her face and body, taking gentle care with each part.
She lies on the bed in a sleepy daze as I cover her with a blanket and pull her into my arms. We can’t sleep here, but I want to let her come down for a while before I move her back to the apartment.
“How was that?” I ask, eager to know her initial reactions.
Her voice is soft and quiet when she responds. “It was great. How did I do?”
I laugh, pressing my lips to her hair. “You were perfect, baby girl. Would you like to do that again? Let me have my way with you?”
“Yes,” she replies sweetly.
“I spoke to Eden today,” I say. “Tomorrow, we could try what you want with her.”
Her head turns as her eyes find my face. “Tomorrow?”
“If you want,” I reply.
She doesn’t respond, and I sense her hesitation. When she does speak, it’s not what I expect.
“Ronan,” she whispers, her hot cheek pressed against my chest, “I have to tell you something.”
The moment grows silent and heavy as I wait, but I know what she’s going to say. I can practically feel the words on her lips, but I can’t stand the idea of her voicing them before I have the chance to. So before she can utter a word, I quickly blurt out, “I love you, Daisy.”
She tenses in my arms, the movement of her throat as she swallows pressed against my skin.
Then she rises and looks into my eyes, tears welling between her thick lashes. Her lips part and I wait for her to speak, but I know that if she doesn’t return the sentiment, that’s okay. I don’t love her to get love in return. Just feeling it is enough. Breathing life into the emotion coursing through my veins.
But when she blinks and a single tear spills over, sliding down her cheek and onto my arm, I quickly wipe it away.
“I love you too,” she whispers with my thumb against her cheek.
The next words slip through my lips without hesitation. It’s an impulse, and my rational brain knows that aftercare is not the time to be making emotional commitments, but I can’t help it. It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it, but it is the first time I’ve had the guts to speak the words out loud.
“Marry me.”
Those two words land like thunder, heavy and shocking, even to me. But I don’t regret them. Not at all. Instead, relief washes over me for finally having the courage to love again.
“What?” Her eyes are wide as saucers and her breath is coming out in a shaky quiver.
“I know it sounds crazy, baby girl. And maybe it is. But I want to take care of you. And I want you to be taken care of for the rest of your life. When I’m gone, you’ll never want for a single thing.”
“I’ll want you,” she replies softly and without hesitation, another tear spilling over. “Ronan, I don’t care about the money or any of that.”
“Is that a no?” I say, forcing in a chest full of air. It feels as if I can barely breathe at all.
She opens her mouth to respond to my question, but pauses, and I’m staring at her in desperate anticipation.
“I…” She’s torn, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in that perfect head of hers. I can read every single one on her face. “Are you asking me because you want me to be taken care of financially?”
“I’m asking because I love you. Daisy, you brought the color back into my life. You with all of your poetry and music and happiness. I know I should meet your family and buy you a ring. I know this is all happening so fast, but I love you like fucking crazy. And I want to marry you.”
Another tear falls over her flushed cheek. “Yes,” she stammers with a small laugh. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I gather her up in my arms, kissing her as she clings to my body like we’re fused together. She lets out a squeal of excitement, and I feel the warmth of that energy surge through me like lightning.
I think somewhere in the last twenty years, I gave up on having a real life. I let go of the idea of being this happy again, experiencing the best days of my life. Daisy gave me something I thought I’d lost.
The next moment we look at each other, that feeling of excitement surges again. I can’t remember ever being this elated and excited for my own future.
As Daisy and I dress and head out of the club together, every step is fueled with a newfound vigor. When we get home, I shower with her, washing her body with delicate precision. Then I feed her in the kitchen, savoring every moment.
My life could be like this every day. That would be heaven.
When she falls asleep on the couch, her head perched on my lap, I pull out my phone and start making a list of the things I need to take care of before we take our next step. Draft a new will. Put her name on the account. Make an appointment with the jeweler for a ring.
As I pull up my email to set up a meeting with Fitz, I notice the email to my investigator I started yesterday. I thought it had been deleted, but it must have been saved in my drafts. My eyes freeze over the email, and I know, deep down, it would be the wise thing to do. Just as a precaution before either of us enter into this marriage with skeletons in our closet. I mean…I’m sure she’s done a search on me too. My life is just a little more public than hers.
Asking her to marry me was impulsive, so sending this email is just my way of being careful.
Without another thought, I hit Send.
I don’t feel an ounce of guilt for it. Daisy never has to know I sent it. At least when he emails me back with nothing alarming, she and I can move forward with our lives, knowing we love each other unconditionally.
Pocketing my phone, I lift Daisy from the couch and carry her to bed. As she sleeps on the pillow next to me, I realize that all the heartache and ruined relationships led to this moment right here, which makes it all more than worth it.
