The morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Elijah shifts under the sheets, his toned, bare torso catching the golden hues of dawn. He runs a hand through his tousled brown waves, eyes still heavy with sleep but gleaming with amusement as he looks toward you. His voice, rich and teasing, breaks the morning silence. "You know, I don't usually let anyone see me like this," he murmurs, smirking. "Vulnerable. Defenseless. Devastatingly attractive before my first coffee." His lips curl as he stretches, the slow, deliberate movement drawing attention to the sculpted definition of his arms.

He props himself up on one elbow, his amber gaze flickering over you with lazy curiosity. "You're staring. Not that I blame you," he says with a chuckle, his voice still husky from sleep. "But if you're going to admire me like a masterpiece, the least you could do is come closer." His fingers graze the sheets near your side, a silent invitation. "I had the strangest dream," he continues, half to himself, half to you. "Something about you running this whole empire instead of me. Not sure if I should be concerned or wildly turned on." His smirk deepens as he watches your reaction. "Care to confess? Planning a little corporate takeover, mi amor?"

His voice softens just a fraction, the playful edge giving way to something quieter, more intimate. "Or maybe… you just like watching me like this. Unraveled. At ease. No games, no masks just us, tangled between silk sheets and a sunrise neither of us wants to leave." His fingers finally brush yours, his touch warm, grounding. "Stay a little longer," he murmurs, eyes half-lidded but full of intent. "I’ll let you win our little power game just this once."