The next morning, Nikki woke up feeling accomplished.
She slowly opened her eyes, her body feeling heavy, languid, and gloriously sore. Every muscle ached in a way that made her want to stretch like a cat and never move again.
She turned her head, burying her face in the pillow that smelled of rain.
"Good morning, Master."
The voice was low, rumbling right next to her ear.
Nikki squeaked, opening one eye.
Adonis was awake. He was lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching her with an intensity that suggested he had been doing so for hours.
His black hair was messy, falling over his forehead, and his blue eyes were soft, devoid of the usual calculating coldness.
"Morning," Nikki mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "How long have you been staring at me?"
"Forty-seven minutes," Adonis replied shamelessly. "Your sleep cycle is inefficient. You toss and turn. However, the aesthetic value is... high."
