Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters, they belong to Stephanie Meyer.

A/N: Short chapters. Anyone offended by the contents should stop reading. Adult themes, no minors. No beta also. Responsibility about mistakes, mine.

Chapter One: Morning habits.

It's 6.30 in the morning. Time to get ready for breakfast.

A quick shower and fresh underwear. It is cold and I pick a dark blue sweater and a gray knee high skirt. I do not bother with stockings, just put on my comfortable flats and take a look at the large, whole length mirror of my bathroom. Just me. Plain, thin, pale, no make up or perfume. Just me, every morning.

I would prefer a pair of sweatpants and a cotton shirt, but I am not allowed to wear them. He does not like them.

At 6.55 exactly I hear the main door. He is back from running. I wait a little, till I can hear him in his bedroom, and then I walk out of my room. It is exactly under his, next to the kitchen.

I take the small envelope he had left for me the previous night on the kitchen counter. Every night, there were specific details about breakfast. Today it is strawberry jelly, his favorite. The coffee is black, always black and a very special order. I have to deliver it every week from an expensive coffee shop. The mix of coffee, walnuts, and cinnamon was filling the air of the kitchen, every morning.

I put everything on the usual tray and wait.

At 7.15 I can hear him coming down the stairs. I take the tray and leave the kitchen. I enter the room behind the stairs. The one I call "The breakfast room." It is more like a studio. Wooden floors, and windows that reach the ceiling. And green, so much green. The trees of the forest around the house seem to be in that room. The youngest of them have the color of his eyes. Vivid green. And silence. The privilege to be far from other people, the reason I am here.

He is sitting behind his desk, looking outside. It is a sunny day despite the cold. He is reading something on his laptop, possibly the news. His mood is unreadable, like most mornings. He is beautiful, like every morning.

I put the tray on the desk but not in front of him. I wait until he speaks. My hair, freshly washed and down, as every morning. He lifts his gaze and then pushes the computer at the end of the desk, opposite from the tray. He breaths deeply and closes his eyes for just a second. When he opens them they are different. The green in them is different, darker, almost black. And I know he will finally speak.

"Sit on the desk," he says and backs his chair, leaving more space for me to move. I do as he asks. He is looking again outside. I watch him turn his head towards the tray and then at me. He saw I had followed his orders. Strawberry today. Strawberry for the jelly, for my shampoo and my soap.

He breaths hard and cleans his hands with the warm wet towel I was also asked to put on the tray. I wait.

"Now, spread your legs Isabella...please." I do it. It is not the first time. It won't be the last.

A/N: I have to clear this out: THIS IS NOT A BDSM story. Please tell me what you think. Thanks for reading.