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“Nobody gets you until morning,” I said.

Her breath left her.

“Not Wyatt. Not Dena Fry. Not a vendor. Not me asking you to solve anything. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Her mouth trembled into a smile.

“Yes, Daddy.”

The word hit me as hard as the first time.

Maybe harder. The first time had been discovery. This was choice.

I slid one hand into her hair and held the back of her head.

“There’s my girl.”

Her whole body softened.

I kissed her slower.

No rush now. The chain waited. Morning waited. The ranch could hold itself for one night.

I unknotted the flannel at her waist and laid it over the blankets. Then I opened her jeans, watching her face while I did it.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I don’t.”

“If anything hurts?”

“I tell you.”

“Good girl.”

Color rose over her cheeks.

I pushed her jeans down over her hips. She stepped out of them, one boot and then the other, grabbing my shoulder when the second leg caught. I steadied her.

“Graceful,” she whispered.

“Beautiful.”

“I almost fell.”

“Still beautiful.”

Her shirt came next. Then her bra. I took my time with each clasp and button, because taking care with her was the whole thing.

When she stood in front of me in only her panties, she reached for my belt.

I caught her hand.

“Patience.”