Chapter 7

The morning light didn’t burst so much as it bled through the heavy, velvet curtains of the hotel suite, painting the room in shades of dusty gold and amber. I blinked, my eyelids heavy with the sleep of the deeply exhausted, and for a moment, I forgot where I was. The air smelled faintly of rain, expensive linen, and the musk of him—Daddy. The word sent a jolt of heat straight to my core, a primal thrumming that had nothing to do with the sun warming my skin. I wasn’t alone. I never was, not when he was around. I shifted slightly, and the mattress dipped under the weight of his body. He was a fortress of muscle and warmth, his arm a heavy, possessive band across my waist, holding me firmly against his chest. I could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, slow and deep, vibrating against my back. I turned my head, burying my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of cedar and salt that clung to his skin. He stirred at the movement, his hand tightening imperceptibly on my hip, pulling me closer until there was no space left between