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“Cash.”

The warning was soft and breathless.

I lifted an eyebrow.

“Daddy,” she corrected, louder.

“That’s better.”

I guided her down onto the blankets.

Dry hay whispered under the wool. Gold light came through the boards beneath her, striping one thigh, her stomach, the underside of her breast. Music rose through the floor, the bass more vibration than sound.

I knelt between her legs.

Her panties were damp when I slid them down. She lifted her hips to help, then opened her thighs without being asked.

Trust.

The sight of it almost stopped me.

Not submission alone. Not the name. Priya had put her phone in my hand and lain down under me knowing the whole world might keep moving without her.

I bent and kissed the inside of her knee.

Then higher.

Her fingers moved into my hair.

“Daddy.”

“I’m here.”

My mouth found her.

She jolted, thighs tightening around my shoulders. I held them open with my hands and licked slowly through the heat of her, tasting her, listening to every change in her breath.

She was already wet. Already trembling.

I circled her clit with my tongue.

Her hips lifted.

I pressed them down.

“No working for it,” I said.

She made a frustrated sound.

“You don’t have to help. You don’t have to make it happen. Lie still and let me.”

I licked her again, firmer.

Her back arched.

“That wasn’t trying.”

“I tried.”