I hated alarm clocks. I especially hated them when they were early in the morning and took Lila from my arms.
Every morning I awoke with her in my arms was torture when she left them. I watched her slide off the side of the bed, her hair a knotted mess thanks to my hands. Inches of beautiful pale skin speckled with my marks slipped away from my body and into my view.
Naked, beautiful flesh for me to drink in. I watched her arms rise above her head, stretching her sinful body. She glanced back to check if I was awake, and our eyes met.
No “Good morning” or anything. That wasn’t our style.
It was in the way her lips parted. Sometimes she would bite her lower lip, other times her tongue would peek out and wet her lips.
I continued to watch as she walked into the bathroom and listened in
