Dangerous beginnings / MADE MEN BOOK 1

Iube me - Command me

Isabella

Sunlight shines itself in my face as I groan, rubbing my hands over my face I slowly open my eyes. I look over to the alarm clock on the nightstand, 7:30 AM.

I groan, that's way too early.

But sadly once I'm awake in the morning, there is no sleeping pill that could put me back to sleep. When I'm up, I'm up.

Aslanov's cologne lingers in the room, the door is left open. I throw the sheets off and put pyjama socks on since the floor is always so cold here.

Getting into the bathroom I fix my hair and brush my teeth before heading out.

I make my way over to the still dark hallway and open the curtains, letting some sunlight into this dark hole. I stop when I hear clinging sounds coming from Aslanov's room, somewhere further down the hallway.

He's still here.

Quietly, I pad down the hallway, drawn by the subtle sounds emanating from his room. As I reach the doorframe, I pause, my curiosity piqued. With a cautious glance around, I lean in and peek through the crack, taking in the scene before me.

There he stands, bathed in the soft light of the bathroom, his silhouette outlined against the mirror. Aslanov is buttoning up his blouse, the fabric whispering softly as it falls into place. His wet hair glistens under the gentle illumination, evidence of a recent shower. The scent of his cologne hangs in the air, a subtle yet intoxicating aroma that fills the room.

I find myself captivated by the sight, unable to tear my gaze away. There's something mesmerizing about him, the way he carries himself with an effortless grace. And when his eyes meet mine in the reflection, a spark of recognition ignites between us, drawing me in even closer.

His expression holds a mixture of surprise and warmth, as if he's caught off guard by my presence yet welcomes it all the same.

But then reality comes crashing back, and I realize I've been caught red-handed. With a sheepish smile, I straighten up and meet his gaze, unable to suppress the blush creeping up my cheeks.

"Morning," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, but the warmth in my tone speaks volumes.

I'm grateful for his stay yesterday, but honestly don't feel like talking about it.

Without a word, he finishes buttoning up his blouse and turns to face me fully, the corners of his lips quirking up in a faint smile. His presence exudes a quiet strength, a reassuring presence that eases the lingering tension in the air.

"Good morning, Isabella," he says, his voice smooth and velvety, sending a shiver down my spine.

He slips a couple of rings around his tattooed fingers before looking at me again. He moves through the bathroom to grab something else.

"Give me that." He orders as he's putting on his cuff links, pointing at the tie across the chair in his bedroom.

My eyes move to the chair, and before my mind processes his order my body is already moving.

His bed is untouched, that's because he was with me last night, watching me sleep.

Wondering if he got any sleep at all.

On the chair hangs a lone black tie, on the table next to it other items that remind me of the man he is. Not paying too much attention to them I reach for the tie.

I pick the tie up and throw it at him, he's staring at me through the mirror as he catches it.

He leans against the wall of the bathroom as he watches me with a grin. "What?" I ask in defense.