Elena’s POV,

The heavy front door clicked shut, and I watched my husband step into the hallway, looking delightfully grumpy and, as always, devastatingly handsome and hot. He sank down onto the sofa with a low sigh. I didn’t hesitate, immediately scurrying over to sit right beside him.

"Rough day?" I murmured softly.

"Yeah. Something like that," he replied, his voice a low rumble.

I reached out, gently tracing slow circles against his thigh before threading my fingers through his thick hair. He visibly melted into my touch, a quiet exhale leaving his chest. I loved comforting him like this—it filled me with a quiet pride knowing how deeply he craved the soothing friction of my hands.

"I’ll fix you something to eat," I offered, starting to stand up.

"Okay," he agreed, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a sudden, wicked glint. "But I have a condition."

"Okay, name it," I asked, tilting my head.

"Strip. Remove every single stitch of clothes before you step foot in the kitchen."

A sudden wave of scorching heat rushed straight to my cheeks. "B-but..."

"Now," he commanded, his voice dropping into a register that brook zero argument.

I scrambled off the couch, frantically shedding my clothes until I stood completely bare in the middle of the hallway. I kept my eyes glued to the floorboards, entirely too mortified to meet his scorching gaze.

"And call me Sir until the sun comes up. Understand?"

"Y-yes, Sir," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Now go cook."

I snapped out of my daze, hurrying to the kitchen, though my movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. I kept glancing back toward the living room every few seconds.

He was shamelessly staring right at my naked breasts and hips. The heavy, possessive weight of his eyes made my skin burn and my muscles tense so tightly I could barely chop a vegetable.

"D-don't look at me like that..." I whimpered.

"Shh, baby. No talking unless I give you permission."

I bit down hard on my lower lip, fighting back a whimper at his commanding tone, and simply nodded, shivering with a volatile mix of panic and wild excitement.

"Stop what you're doing," he ordered.

I froze instantly, the wooden spoon hovering mid-air. "I-I stopped, Sir," I replied, my voice breathless and utterly submissive as I waited for his next decree.

"Cupped your breasts in both hands."

My breath hitched sharply, but I obeyed without hesitation, bringing my hands up to my chest and pressing my palms together, squeezing my flesh tightly.

"Now bend your head down and lick your nipples."

I lowered my chin, running my tongue in slow, wet circles over my hardened peaks. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him slide his hand down his trousers, freeing his thick, rock-hard erection.

A soft, needy moan slipped from my lips, my hands gripping my breasts harder as I licked them more aggressively.

"Bite them."

“TO BE CONTINUED”