Linea woke to the scent of coffee and pancakes wafting through the house. Today was the day when the real training began. Her throat tensed when she thought about the collar Master Donovan said she would wear. From that moment, he would choreograph her every move.
She silently shuffled into the kitchen where he was flipping pancakes onto a plate. Not silently enough as he turned to see her in the doorframe.
"Good morning, Linea. How are you?"
So taken by his broad shoulders forming a v-line down to a narrow waist and hips, Linea's breath caught in her chest. The spatula he held close to his breast caused a bulge in the short sleeve of his white tee shirt. At some point those muscles would test her senses to the limit, and her c**t throbbed with anticipation.
"Are you able to speak?" he
