[Elena’s POV]
The weeks blurred into a haze of sensation and surrender, each day bleeding into the next until I no longer knew where my will ended and his began.
Mornings always began the same way. At exactly six the soft chime of his bedside clock pulled me from sleep. I slid naked from my bed where I spent every night and knelt beside his pillow, knees spread, palms up, eyes down. Some mornings he woke hard and reached for me immediately. His fingers would twist in my hair and guide my mouth onto his c**k while he was still half asleep, using me slow and deep until he spilled down my throat with a quiet groan. Other mornings he simply brushed his knuckles across my cheek, murmured “Good girl,” and sent me to shower alone while he started his day.
Afternoons belonged to lessons. He tau
