by L. A. Casey
I fucking loved when she moaned.
I tongued her asshole and played with her clit until her body trembled. When I stood, I fisted my cock and pumped it twice before I aligned the head with Bronagh’s body. I used my left hand to spread her, and when I slowly thrust my hips forward, my eyes fluttered shut. The slickness, the heat, the pulsing tightness of my wife’s muscles. It was an ecstasy that only she could give me. I forced my eyes open so I could watch as my cock slipped inside her mag-fucking-nificent ass, and as always, I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling to the back of my head as pleasure licked at me.
“Dominic,” Bronagh whispered. “Fuck.”
Fuck was right.
“Baby,” I lowly groaned. “You always feel so perfect.”
“Easy,” she whispered. “Go easy.”
I had to go easy with her. No matter how many times I fucked her ass, I always had to be very gentle with her in the beginning until she was stretched and used to the sensation of being so full. She came harder when I started out easier, so I took my time thrusting in and out of her body. I brought my mouth to her neck and kissed her skin until her head fell back against my chest.
“Mine,” I grunted as I scraped my teeth over her skin. “Everything about you is mine. I’m going to fuck you into ecstasy, baby.”
“Yes,” she replied, starting to push back against my body. “Fuck. Yes.”
Lazy thrusting soon turned to precise pumping. Bronagh bucked back against me wildly, giving me just as good as I was giving her. The only sounds that could be heard were our laboured breathing, the slapping of skin on skin, and the occasional grunt or groan that neither of us could contain. I picked up my pace and fucked my wife harder. When she played with her clit and groaned, the sound went straight to my balls, and I bucked into her harder, faster, deeper. When she sucked in a sharp breath, held it, and went still as I loved her, I knew she was coming. I hissed when her asshole tightened around me as her muscles contracted.
“Good girl,” I praised, running my tongue over her shoulder. “Fuck. You feel so good.”
Now that she had come, I had to chase down my own orgasm because in the back of my mind I knew that at any moment, one of the kids was going to call us and put an indefinite pause on our alone time. It took another thirty seconds, but when my balls drew up tight and a shiver danced the length of my spine, I knew I was about to come. My lips parted, and deep groans filled the room as the first spurt shot free. I hissed when Bronagh’s muscles contracted a couples of times and acted like a vacuum, sucking the cum out of my cock.
“Baby!”
She chuckled in response.
“I fucking love you,” I panted, slapping her ass for good measure. “You continue to ruin me.”
Bronagh grunted against the wall. “Ye’ve just about fucked me into a coma, big man.”
I laughed as I slipped out of her body and hugged her to me. I spent a few minutes catering to her. I washed her hair and skin because not only did I enjoy doing it, but she loved me doing it. After I washed my hair, and scrubbed my body, I looked back at Bronagh.
“Are you going to tell me what got you upset in the kitchen earlier?”
She turned to face me, looked up at me, and my heart thumped against my chest. She was beautiful, so painfully beautiful that I could never get enough of her. This woman had my heart, body, and soul. One look from those big green eyes, and I was completely at her mercy.
“I don’t even know what me problem is,” she answered with a sigh. “Sometimes, I just realise we have such a big family, and I’m terrified if we suddenly can’t provide for them anymore.”
“Bronagh.”
“You’re the one who makes the money, Dominic,” she cut me off. “I just ... I just—”
“You just take care of everyone and everything else,” I finished. “Sweetheart, you are the heart of this family. Without you, there is nothing. You know that.”
When her eyes glazed over with tears, I leaned down and kissed her until she relaxed against me.
“Alannah pays you too. You’ve been working with her for years. You contribute financially as well as me.”
She sighed but didn’t disagree with me.
“No more worrying,” I murmured against her lips. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“I love you.”
She hummed. “I love ye’, too.”
I jumped when her nails ran over my softening cock, and it made her laugh as I backed out of the shower with a smirk in place.
“Same time tomorrow?”
Bronagh snorted. “If I can sit down by then, we’ll see.”
I left our bathroom with a shit-eating grin on my face. I dried myself off, changed into clean boxer shorts, and just as I was about to grab some pants, I thought I heard voices in the hallway. I ventured outside to investigate, and the second I left the room, gasps and giggles could be heard as well as a horrified, “Da!”
Georgie was clearly heading towards her bedroom with two of her friends in tow, Alexandra and Joanne, aka Alex and Joey. I had known both girls since they were in kindergarten with my daughter, so seeing them stare at me without blinking freaked me out. I looked down at my boxer briefs then back up to my child’s teenage friends, and I think, for the first time in years, I felt myself blush.
“Hi, girls.” I smiled as I reached out to grab a towel hanging over the stair rail and wrapped it tightly around my hips. “How are you, ladies?”
“I’m doin’ real good, Mr Slater,” Joey replied with a brow raised and her teeth sinking into her lower lip. “Real good, sir.”
Alex giggled, and Joey stared at me without blinking while Georgie’s burning face indicated her mortification.
“Can ye’ please put some clothes on?” she pleaded. “Please.”
I bobbed my head, sprung back into my bedroom and closed the door behind me before anyone could speak another word. Bronagh was in the middle of putting a bra on. She already had socks and panties on, and when she saw me, she raised her brows.
“Alex and Joey just saw me in my boxers.” I cringed. “I think Joey licked her lips, too.”
Bronagh grinned. “Is Georgie red faced?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “She’ll be complaining about this for the next week.”
My wife giggled as she pulled on a pair of jeans, and she playfully rolled her eyes when she found my eyes glued to her as she got dressed. I grinned, not ashamed in the least to be caught ogling her. I watched her as often as I could, and she and everyone else knew it. My kids weren’t bothered by it because seeing me being constantly affectionate with their mother was all they ever knew. I think if I stopped showing that affection, they would find it bizarre.
“Ye’ll have to apologise to Georgie,” Bronagh said as she put on her socks. “She’ll be a nightmare otherwise.”
I pulled on jeans, socks, and a T-shirt.
“I’ll catch her before she goes to the centre with the girls.”
“I’m bringin’ Axel shoppin’ with me, so ye’ just have Quinn and Griffin to bring to their game. Their game is a home game, so it’s just down to the pitches for ye’. I wanna stop off at Skechers and get Axel new runners; his last two pairs were ruined from all the climbin’ he does at Gravity with you.”
I smiled. “He loves it.”
“His runners don’t.”
I walked over, smacked her ass, grabbed her face, and kissed her like I meant it. When I pulled away, my wife swayed into me just like she did when we were teenagers.
“What was that for?”
“Because I felt like kissing you.”
She opened her eyes and smiled up at me.
“You’re so beautiful.”
“Speakin’ of beautiful …” She tilted her head to the side. “Why were Beau and Georgie fightin’ earlier?”
“He took her phone; she retaliated.”
“That lad constantly tries to find ways to annoy ‘er.”
“He loves her ...
loves to piss her off, too.”
Bronagh chuckled as I kissed her cheek and left the room. I glanced over the stair rail and saw Alex and Joey descending the stairs with my daughter nowhere in sight. I made my way to her bedroom, and when I entered the room, I froze in the doorway.
“What the hell are you wearing, Georgie Slater?”
She spun to face me, and when I saw her bare stomach, my heart stopped.
“Ye’ were right ab-about it bein’ hot out,” she stammered. “I was just changin’ into somethin’ ... cooler.”
“Cooler?” I blinked. “You’re naked.”
“Da, please.” She frowned. “I’m not naked. It’s a crop top and a skirt.”
Two things she had never worn before. Ever.
“Naked,” I repeated. “You aren’t leaving the house in that. If you lean forward, your ass will be out for the world to see.”
I ran from her room to mine, grabbed a T-shirt that I made as a joke the year before, and rushed back to my daughter’s room. I pushed it at her and waited outside as she changed into it. When I heard her screech, I felt deeply satisfied with myself.
“Daddy!”
“Don’t ‘daddy’ me,” I warned as I re-entered the room. “If you won’t dress yourself correctly, then I’ll do it for you.”
My child almost snarled at me. “This will put me at the top of the loser list, Da! No lad will ever look in me direction if ye’ make me wear this!”
Fireworks went off in my mind at her words.
“You’re never taking it off.”
Georgie stomped her foot on the ground and turned her back to me. She opened her mouth and shouted, “Ma!”
I listened for Bronagh and smiled when I heard her walk towards our daughter’s room humming a song.
“What is it, Georgie?”
“Da is ruinin’ me entire life, and he’s happy about it.”
I was very happy about it.
Bronagh entered the room on a tired sigh, but when her gorgeous eyes fell to the T-shirt Georgie had on, she laughed with glee. Our less than impressed teenager screeched. “It’s not funny! I’ll be slagged to the high heavens if I have to wear this, Ma.”
Bronagh folded her arms over her chest. “I thought ye’ didn’t care what people thought of ye’?”
Georgie shifted her stance. “I don’t.”
My wife raised a brow. “Then what’s the problem?”
Georgie pointed at her shirt and read the words printed in black.
“This is my dad. He will do to you what you do to me. It’s even worse with the stupid picture of Da without his shirt on under the writin’.”
“That’s a nice picture.” I frowned. “Don’t be mean.”
She refused to look at me. Instead, she focused on Bronagh. “I’d sooner walk around school in me bra in front of every lad in sixth year than wear this T-shirt, Ma.”
My child just described an actual nightmare of mine.
“Do you want me to have your cousins flank you all day at school on Monday?” I growled. “Because I’ll call them right now and arrange it.”
My stubborn child scoffed. “Go for it.”
She challenged me, and she was old enough to know never to do that.
“Fine,” I said and took out my phone.
“Fine,” Georgie quipped.
I dialled Jax’s number and placed my phone to my ear.
“What’s up, unc?” he answered on the third ring.
“I need a favour, kid.”
I heard a female giggle, then a pained groaned from my nephew. “I’m kind of busy, unc. Can this wait?”
I shook my head as a grin crept its way onto my face.
“It’s about Georgie.”
I heard Jax instantly hush who was giggling.
“Is she okay?” he asked, his focus fully on our conversation and not the girl he was with.
“She is,” I said then growled, “but she is threatening to wear just her bra to school come Monday.”
“She is threatenin’ to what?” Jax all but roared. “Is she there with ye’?”
“She is.”
“Put ‘er on the phone,” he demanded. “Now.”
He was Kane’s kid; there was no doubt about it. I tapped my phone on Georgie’s shoulder and held it out to her when she turned to me. She looked at the phone for a moment, and I saw her tough girl act begin to crack. She covered up her near slip, took the phone, and pressed it to her ear.
“What d’ye want, Jax?” she asked, though her tone wasn’t as stern as before.
I looked at Bronagh when Jax’s voice bellowed through the receiver of my phone. She grinned, and I shook my head. She was enjoying this just as much as I was.
“No!” Georgie suddenly bellowed. “If ye’ do that, I’ll make sure Daisy Mars never looks at ye’ again.” She gasped at Jax’s response. “Ye’ wouldn’t dare, Jax Slater.”
“I would,” I heard Jax threaten.
“Go ahead then,” Georgie angrily spat and hung up on Jax before turning and tossing my phone back to me.
“Can ye’ both leave, please?” she asked. “I want to be on me own.”
I opened my mouth to ignore her and continue our discussion, but when a soft hand touched my elbow, I turned my attention from my daughter to my wife.
“Come on,” Bronagh said. “Leave ‘er be.”
I had to be tugged out of the room and down the stairs.
“Georgie will be down in a few minutes,” Bronagh said to Alex and Joey who were keeping Axel and Beau company in the living room. Beau, whose focus was on Joey, didn’t even notice that his mother spoke. He was too focused on his sister’s friend, and it made me snort.
Twenty minutes after our argument, Georgie, who was correctly dressed, left with her friends and went to the community centre when Alannah pulled up outside to collect them. Bronagh took Axel with her when she went shopping, and Beau accompanied me to the boys’ soccer game. We didn’t get home until after four p.m. After soccer, I took the boys to lunch, then to see the new Marvel movie. When I stepped foot into my house, it sounded like World War III had erupted.
Jax was over, and he and Georgie were knee-deep in an argument in the kitchen. I pushed passed my kids and jogged into the room. My wife was leaned against the sink, pinching the bridge of her nose. I looked at my firstborn nephew and my firstborn child, who were glaring daggers at each other. When my nephew caught sight of me, a deadly grin spread across his face.
“Uncle Nico,” Jax said, turning his attention back to his cousin. “Georgie has a boyfriend ... and he’s a Collins!”
CHAPTER TWO
“Can you repeat that, Jax?”
“Don’t repeat it, cousin,” Georgie pleaded. “He looks like he’s about to have a bleedin’ stroke!”
I was definitely close to say the least.
“Ye’ heard me, unc. Georgie has a boyfriend; he’s me cousin. A Collins lad through and through.”
I hadn’t even realised I was pacing back and forth until my wife approached me cautiously and placed her hands on my biceps. All I could think of was this little Collins bastard touching my daughter in her no-go areas.
“Breathe,” Bronagh instructed. “Nice and slow, in and out.”
I copied her actions, taking slow, deep breaths, but it was futile. My blood pressure was too high for me to calm down.
“Boys,” I barked to my sons who lingered in the kitchen doorway. “Get up to your rooms. Now.”
My sons wished Georgie good luck as they hightailed it up the stairs without a backwards glance. Georgie didn’t look at them; her narrowed eyes were locked on Jax, and if looks could kill, my nephew would have been dead and buried.
I focused on my firstborn. “As of right now, you no longer have a boyfriend.”
Her gazed darted to mine, and screeched, “But Daddy!”
“No!” I cut her off. “No but Daddy! I’m not letting up on this, no way. You’re fifteen; what the hell do you need a boyfriend for?”
Georgie glared at me. “I’m not breakin’ up with ‘im. I don’t care what ye’ say.”
Excuse me?
“Is that so?”
Georgie shrunk under my stare but nodded ever so slightly.
“Everything is going in the trash,” I declared. “Phone, laptop, makeup, hair products, your television, your sound system, your iPod. Everything. Trash.”
Georgie widened her eyes.
“If you’re going to disrespect me in my house, then you’re sure as hell not having any of the privileges your mother and I paid for.”
“This is all your fault!” Georgie snapped at Jax. “Ye’ couldn’t keep your big mouth shut. Ye’ ruin everythin’. I hate you.”
Jax flinched as if his cousin’s words had struck him.
“Georgie,” he said in disbelief. “Take it back.”
“No.”
“Take it back, cousin,” he repeated. “Now.”
“No!”
“Georgie Slater,” Bronagh said, her voice deathly low. “Take back those hateful words right now.”
Georgie looked at her mom, held her gaze for a long moment, then turned and ran up the stairs without saying a single word.
“Georgie!” I hollered after her, but she didn’t stop.
Jax stood still, staring up after her. When he turned to face me a moment later, he said, “I had to tell you, unc. I was in The Square yesterday with Indie, and he bought condoms in Boots. I jokingly asked who he was datin’ to need them, and he said Georgie’s name before he could stop ‘imself. I had it out with Georgie last night and only kept quiet because she said she’d tell ye’, but when I was on the phone to ‘er earlier, it was obvious she hadn’t.”
Bronagh groaned. “Did ye’ hit Indie, Jax?”
“Not as hard as I should have,” my nephew grunted.
“Indie Collins,” I said with a snarl. “Gavin’s boy.”
