His Indecent Demands (Bound and Shackled to the Billionaire) Read Online Free PDF

peer beneath at her front, they would see her pubic triangle as well – a silky black patch against all that black taffeta.
    She’s wearing her black garters and stockings as well as her heels. To complete the sexy maid ensemble, her hair is decked with a lacy white maid’s headpiece. The tiniest lacy white apron adorns her front.
    “You look very fetching,” he says, going to her.
    She stands there awkwardly as he gropes her large breasts. His hands go round her corseted waist, nipped more tightly than she would have thought possible, and then to her buttocks. He pinches the sweet, firm flesh.
    He takes one of her hands and places it on the crotch of his pants.
    “You’re making me hard again.”
    And indeed, he is tented at his crotch – a wondrously hard bulge that she can clearly feel. Her fingers boldly grope him there, sizing him, and his eyes light up.
    “You’re enjoying this a little too much, aren’t you?” he says.
    She has not stopped blushing. Truth be told, she enjoys his obvious desire for her – the fact he wants to touch her intimately all the time.
    “But I’m not going to fuck you again right now, much as I want to.” He takes his hands away from her body. “I need to go out to do one little errand. Have dinner ready by the time I come back in about two hours.”
    “Yes, sir.” She dips her eyes to his crotch, and back again to his beautiful face.
    She watches him leave. The front door shuts and she hears the distant musical arming of the manor’s security system.
    She’s trapped inside this alien house – an indentured servant in a sexy maid’s outfit that leaves too little to the imagination. Alone with a robot and the silent voices of a dozen Mesopotamian half statues.
    It’s almost entirely too weird.
     
    *
     
    She finds the kitchen easily enough. It’s very spacious and rustic in décor – with terracotta tiles, a cozy worktable in the middle and gleaming copper pots and pans hanging from the ceiling. It also has a large brick fireplace, now dormant of course. She can definitely see herself at home here. It’s the most normal room in the entire house so far. She hasn’t been upstairs yet, but she reckons it may be filled with more Babylonian curios.
    She finds some lasagna sheets, ricotta cheese, tomatoes and béchamel sauce in the refrigerator, and sets to making some lasagna. That should be easy enough. Channing was right. It’s a very well-stocked kitchen. No doubt his housekeeping team has been thoroughly using the spice rack, because pepper stains smear the shelf everywhere.
    As she busies herself in her task, she almost forgets she is half-naked.
    She puts the lasagna into the oven to bake. The cleaning robot scurries into the kitchen, and she narrowly avoids tripping over it.
    “Thanks a lot,” she says.
    It emits one beep – possibly a bad word in robot language. Then she hears a mirror beep somewhere outside the door, a distance away. Another robot?
    She sets about clearing the saucepans, bowls and ladles she has used and putting them into the dishwasher.
    “You know, if you were that smart,” she says to the robot, “you’d help me with these.”
    It ignores her as usual by circling and sucking up the unseen debris on the kitchen floor.
    “You have really good manners. Just in case you can’t tell the difference, I was being sarcastic.”
    Footsteps sound outside the kitchen door. She freezes. She hasn’t pegged on Channing being back so soon.
    “Sir?” she calls.
    She wonders if he would let her call him by his first name. Another alarming thought seizes her – what if this is his housekeeping team coming in to clean . . . and with her dressed like this?
    Yikes!
    In panic, she looks around for something to shield herself with, but can find nothing. Not even a tablecloth.
    A figure pauses at the doorway. She whirls around, covering her exposed breasts with her hands. And almost stumbles backwards, stunned.
    For the man who stands there – eyeing her