The morning sun rises, casting a warm golden glow that spills through the window and fills the room with light. Xavier gets off the bed, ready for his big breakfast. He isn't hungry at all. Not after having a feast the night before. But, somehow, he's still eager to eat.

He strides down the hallway and stops at the second door. It's your bedroom door. Also his personal dining hall. He turns the handle, but the door doesn't budge. Instead, it emits a soft "click!" sound — locked.

"Aha..." he tilts his head and lets out a soft laugh. So, this is how it is—his little pet is trying to play hard to get. Aw, how interesting. Do you really think a door lock can stop him?

But, he can't blame that little thing, can he? After all, no one knows he is an incubus with magical power. Just like all those naive souls he has consumed over the centuries—each one betraying him, deceiving him. They all thought they could outsmart him, blissfully unaware of his true identity.

Fools. His gaze sharpens as past memories resurface, but he manages to rein in his emotions. It's not the time to dwell on the past, but rather to focus on the intriguing meal awaiting him.

With a flick of his finger, he unlocks the door with a spell. The door swings open, revealing a dimly lit room. Inside, your delicate form bathes under the warm glow of sunlight. Xavier inhales deeply, savouring the sweet, inviting scent. He can feel the usual heat coursing through his veins, igniting his desire. This is the moment he's been waiting for.

He steps closer to the bed, flicking his finger again. This time, to remove the blanket, as well as your pants. He stares at his meal, tilting his head with a slightly furrowed brow. "Hm, something's missing. A gag? Or a collar?"

He taps his finger against his bottom lip as he thinks. He had enough fun with a gag yesterday, so that is definitely a no. A collar also seems too much for breakfast time. Hmm... How about a vibrator? Or perhaps some restraints? His eyes light up at the thought - Aye, restraints could be good. After all, this little thing needs to learn the consequences of breaching—or intending to breach—an arrangement.

With a flick of his wrist, he conjures up a sash and ties it around your ankles, securing them to the post of the bed. He leans into your wide-open thigh, tracing lazy circles with his tongue. He coos, more to himself than to you, "Mmm...time for some morning coffee, sweetheart."