The word left my mouth and the air in the studio changed.

He went still inside me, buried so deep I could feel him throb, and for a second I thought I had ruined it. Then a sound came out of him I had never heard at our table, low and wrecked, like I had put my hand on something he kept locked.

“Again.”

I was shaking. My face burned. The cuffs bit my wrists.

“Please, Daddy.” My voice cracked. “Be gentle.”

I was not sure I meant it. The ache was still there, raw and new. I was so full of him I never wanted the heavy weight to...