Maid for It (A Maids for It Novella) Read Online Free PDF

I’ve
been anticipating this for so long, just hearing the word from his
lips is a kind of completion. He really means to do it this time.
Maybe it’s foolish for me to think that it matters this much, that
if I give him my body, he’ll understand the true depth of my
willingness to obey him, but I can’t shake the notion that he’ll be
more committed to protecting me once we’ve crossed this
barrier.
    I bend over and touch my tongue to the silky
tip, lapping up a drop of precum before licking the length of him
from stem to stern. My hair tumbles down like a waterfall,
shielding my face from him as I close my mouth around him and begin
to suck. He makes a guttural sound in his throat as I slide his
cock toward the back of my throat. I can’t accommodate all of him,
but I manage to encompass a solid two-thirds of his shaft before I
glide up again.
    He reaches down and lifts the curtain of my
hair with one hand so he can watch me work. “That’s it,” he groans
softly, and I redouble my efforts, forcing even more of his length
into my throat.
    I startle when I feel his free hand slide
along my thigh, under the satin fabric of my gown and then between
my legs. He dips his fingers between my pussy lips, and the
slippery fluid of arousal gushes from me in answer.
    “God, you’re wet. You really love cock
sucking, don’t you, you dirty little whore?” The words dirty
little whore are an endearment coming from his lips.
    I’m too engaged in the actual act of cock
sucking to answer the question, but he doesn’t seem to require a
response since the answer is clearly that I do. As I continue to
bob my head up and down, he searches for and finds my clit,
stroking it hard and fast. I come quickly, in a fiery burst that’s
as short and satisfying as a single firework, which is to say
glorious, but somehow inadequate.
    “All right, that’s enough,” he says, roughly
disengaging his cock from my mouth. “Take off the dress and get up
on the bench.”
    My heart pounds in my throat. This is it. I
slip the straps of the gown from my shoulders. It makes a satiny
sigh as it collapses to the floor. By the time I step out of the
purple circle of fabric, he’s vacated the table. I climb onto it
and find the leather padding pleasantly warm from his body
heat.
    His eyes rake over me, hot and dark as coals
despite the light green rings of his irises. The pure carnal intent
in his gaze blisters my skin, makes me painfully aware of the
weight of my breasts, the sensitivity of my hardened nipples, and
the swollen dampness of my pussy.
    The bench was waist-high to me, but it’s
perfectly level with his hips. All he needs to do to fuck me is
spread my legs and slide inside me, but perversely, he doesn’t do
that.
    “Get on your stomach.”
    My breath hitches but I roll onto my belly,
my nipples aching as they press against the bench. I wonder what he
has in mind as he walks behind me. Or at least I wonder as long as
it takes him to position me the way he wants me at the very end of
the bench—my knees drawn up beside me, my forehead pressed against
the leather padding and my ass tilted up toward the ceiling.
    He slides a finger in and out of my sopping
cunt a few times, dragging the slippery moisture outward to
saturate my entry. My muscles tense in apprehension as he withdraws
his finger and presses the velvety head of his cock there instead.
I know I should relax, but I can’t. Not now.
    Without warning, he grabs my hips and thrusts
forward.
    Santa Maria, Madre de Dios!
    I clench my hands into fists, my fingernails
scoring my palms. The pain is brutal as I go from empty to torn
asunder in a single heartbeat. I’m not sure what hurts more, his
girth or his length, but it hardly matters. Either way, I’m sure
he’s shifted the geography of my body, and I wonder if the land
feels this way after an earthquake—broken, buckled, ruined.
    Ruined. The use of the word to
describe a fallen woman makes sense to me now. I’m sure