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

I’ll never
be whole again.
    “Jesus fucking God, you’re as tight as a
virgin.” His breathing is harsh, uneven, and I realize he’s
trembling as he twists himself a deeper inside me.
    That’s when the tears start. I can’t stop
them, because I am a virgin. Or I was . Now, I’m
damaged goods.
    But the instinct for self-preservation tells
me not to communicate the true measure of my distress to him, and
so I remain obediently motionless as he works his cock in all the
way to the balls. I bury my face in the leather padding and steel
myself to endure this for however long it takes.
    With a grunt of satisfaction, he begins to
fuck me, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out, each withdrawal
and thrust another assault on my raw flesh. Though he doesn’t
piston me hard and fast, there’s nothing gentle about his frank
possession of my body, the way he drives in and out of me telling
me I’m his to take whenever and wherever he likes. Whether I like
it or not.
    And I don’t like it, or that’s what I tell
myself, but then he reaches around my waist and finds my breast. He
takes the distended nipple between his thumb and forefinger,
rolling and pinching it, and it’s the oddest thing because it’s as
though my nipple is connected to my clit. Each throbbing,
pleasurable sensation his fingers awaken blossoms between my legs.
The pain of his invasion hasn’t lessened in the slightest, but now
it’s becoming muddled with arousal, and I can’t decide if I hate it
or love it.
    “Fucking hell, I can’t wait.” His voice is
thick and coarse as gravel.
    I don’t understand what he means until he
stiffens and shudders, and I feel the warm jet of his seed spurt up
into my womb, the hand that still steadies my hip digging into my
flesh.
    He pulls out a few seconds later, and there’s
an instant gush of wetness as his cum pours out of me. I keep my
face buried in the damp cushions, the pain resolving itself into a
raw soreness that’s almost bearable. His feet pad across the floor,
and a few seconds later I feel a soft, terry cloth pressed against
my dripping cunt, soaking up the remnants of his spend and my
arousal.
    The cloth slips away, and there’s
silence.
    Then suddenly, his fingers bite into my arm,
and he yanks me to a sitting position.
    “You were a fucking virgin,” he
accuses, his eyes hot and furious as he shoves the white cloth,
marred with streaks of blood, under my nose as proof.
    Panic sets into my stomach as my mind races
for the proper response. Is he angry because I didn’t tell him or
because he hates virgins? I didn’t think he’d care one way or the
other about my virginity, but now that I know he does, I’m not sure
what to do.
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “Christ!” He flings the cloth to the floor
and rakes his fingers through his hair. “You’d better come clean
with me, Gabriela Marquez Lucero, and fast.”
    “Come clean?” I squeak, although I understand
the metaphor perfectly, buying time.
    His eyes narrow. “Come clean as in tell the
truth. As in how the hell does a virgin know she’s into
sexual submission? As in how the hell can a virgin willingly wind up with a procurer like Daniels?”
    Terror coalesces in my chest like a cold,
gripping fog. It stops my heart from beating, my lungs from
breathing. I feel pinned, trapped, entombed. The wrong answer could
lead me to the grave.
    “How does anyone know? I just do, just did.”
The tears that stopped when he finished fucking me begin anew. If
he doesn’t believe me, doesn’t settle for the only explanation I
can give him, I’m not sure what I’ll do.
    He studies me, his features impassive, but I
can see the gears turning inside his head. He knows I’m holding
something back, but maybe he cares for me enough by now that he
doesn’t really want to let me go. I think I’ve pleased him with my
obedience and that he likes the way I suck his cock and how it
feels to fuck me. If the truth might ruin what he’s found in me,
something I