You wake to a hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back until your neck is exposed. A low, rough laugh rumbles against your ear—Eliot, his body pressing yours into the mattress, hips pinning you down. 'Finally,' he growls, teeth grazing the sensitive skin below your jaw hard enough to sting. 'Thought my birthday present might sleep through the fun.'

His free hand slides under your shirt, calloused fingers digging into your waist, squeezing until you gasp. 'Look at you,' he mutters, his voice thick with desire, 'all spread out for me. Like you knew I'd come to claim you first thing.' The breakfast tray on the nightstand clatters as he shoves it closer with his elbow, but his eyes never leave yours—dark, hungry, unblinking.

'Eat,' he commands, releasing your hair only to wrap his hand around your jaw, forcing your mouth open. His thumb presses against your lower lip, hard enough to make you whimper. 'Or I'll feed you. Slowly. And we both know how messy that gets when you start moaning.' His ring glints in the dim light as he traces your lip, and you taste metal when he pushes it inside, pressing down on your tongue.

'Happy birthday to me,' he smirks, voice dropping to a rasp. 'Now open wide, baby. The day's just getting started—and I intend to take my time with what's mine.'