Page 23 of Irish

“I’ve read books…” She wouldn’t tell him anymore than that. His laugh filled the room.

“Books? Books are make-believe. They don’t touch on the realities of life. Reading about having a Daddy and actually having one is two different things. A fantasy is nice, you can close the book and walk away from it. A relationship is different. Having someone tell you what to do, even when you might not want him to, is something else altogether.”

“I’ve had friends in these relationships, I’ve seen…”

“And how would your friends’ Daddies react to their Little texting and driving?” Irish asked her.

Makenzie shook her head, her face warming at the thoughts. Her first Daddy? He wouldn’t have cared about something like texting and driving. His rules were all about her pleasing him and his interest. He wouldn’t care if she did something dangerous, as long as it didn’t affect him. But the daddies in her stories? They’d care.

“I asked you a question, Mak.”

“They’d probably get punished,” she answered.

“Probably?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Definitely. They’d definitely get punished.”

“And how, sweetheart, do you think they’d get punished?”

“It would depend on the couple and their dynamic. Like, a masochist would probably have to do something they don’t enjoy like standing in the corner or writing lines.”

“And if they weren’t a masochist? What do you think would happen then?”

“I don’t know…”

“You do know. The blush on your cheeks tells me you damn well do know. But since you can’t say it, I’ll say it for you.” Irish took a step closer to her, towering over her slender frame as she shifted in place. “A non-masochist would get a spanking, Mak. A hard one because of the severity of the offense. You’re lucky this is just a hypothetical situation because your ass would be redder than those pretty cheeks of yours. Do you really want to know what would happen if you belonged to me, Little Girl?”

Swallowing hard, Makenzie nodded.

Irish stood in front of her and started removing his belt. Makenzie's heart raced as she eyed the belt with trepidation, her cheeks now on fire. Her tummy flipped, anticipating what was to come. “My Little girl would know she is the most important thing in my entire world. She’d understand that her safety and well-being was my priority, because if she hurt, I’d hurt. It is my job as her Daddy to protect her, even from herself. If she dared to break the most serious rule we had by putting herself in danger?” He paused and folded the belt in half.

“She’d be over my knee, with her pants and underwear down. My palm would turn her bottom a nice, deep shade of red for being so careless with her safety. I would make sure every swat on her bottom counted,” he said, maintaining eye contact with her. “Do you know what would happen next, baby?”

Makenzie shook her head, her breathing ragged. The conversation had taken a turn and she didn't know how she felt about it. On one hand, she was mortified because she knew better than to text and drive; on the other, she couldn't help but picture it. Irish's firm hand on her bare bottom as he spanked her until she learned her lesson. Being spanked by a man who cared deeply for her had been a fantasy of hers for as long as she could remembered.

“She’d taste Daddy’s belt. Because, putting her life in danger, would require much more than my hand on her bare ass. She’d wiggle and cry, begging me to stop. But I wouldn’t stop until I knew she’d learned her lesson. Not until her ass was hot to the touch and she’d be reminded of her punishment when she sat. I’d stop only when I was convinced that she’d never, ever, put my sweet girl in a harmful situation again.” Makenzie shivered at the thought and jumped when he brought the belt down against his palm. She squeezed her thighs tightly together, surprised at how aroused his words were making her.

“She’d be wet,” he continued. “Her body would betray her even though she’d be begging me to stop spanking her.” He ran the looped end of the belt up her calf, making goosebumps erupt on her skin. “Afterward, I’d put her in the corner with a punishment plug up her ass to think about her actions. Then, when it was all over, I’d remove the plug and cuddle her to my chest and let her know how much I love her, how proud I was of her taking her punishment like a good girl and reassure her the slate was now clean.”

“I- I’m sorry I asked.” Makenzie got up, pushed past Irish and ran into the guest bedroom. She threw herself on the bed and immediately burst into tears.

CHAPTER 9

IRISH

Irish stood frozen for a moment, his heart sinking at the sight of Makenzie retreating into the guest bedroom. He cursed himself silently for his harsh words, knowing he had pushed too hard. It took him a minute to gather his composure before he followed her into the room. He knocked on the door softly, “Mak? Can I come in?”

There was a moment of tense silence before he heard her small, muffled voice from within. “I don't know.”

Taking that as permission enough, Irish slowly pushed open the door and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Makenzie lay curled up on the bed, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. It damn near brought him to his knees seeing her like that.

Without a word, Irish crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against her arm in a gesture of comfort.

“Mak, baby,” he murmured softly, his voice gentle. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry for pushing so hard. I’d gut any rat bastard who made you sob like this, and never thought it would be me.”

She turned to face him, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, tears still glistening on her cheeks. “It's not you,” she whispered hoarsely. “It's me. I'm just...scared.”

Irish's heart clenched at her words, a pang of guilt twisting in his chest. He reached out, gently brushing away her tears with his thumb. “Scared? Scared of what, sweetheart?” He hoped it wasn’t him. He’d cut his own hand off before he’d hurt her.

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