BOOK 3: Chapter 22: Caught by the Maid

BOOK 3: Chapter 22: Caught by the Maid

She chuckles nervously, shaking her head as her trembling hands fumble to adjust her nightgown, tugging the fabric quickly over her body. Her eyes flick up toward him, expression skeptical and incredulous, one eyebrow arched high.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demands, voice low and sharp.

Adrian just chuckles, that same arrogant, deliciously dangerous grin spreading across his face. He shrugs, stepping inside with slow, deliberate movements, pushing the door nearly shut behind him.

“Well… I don’t know,” he says with faux innocence, his voice drenched in that slow, teasing cadence that never fails to make her tremble. “I just couldn’t help but hear your loud little moans echoing through the house, and I figured I should come check on you… make sure you were alright.”

That smirk—the one that coils heat low in her belly—stretches wider across his lips, and she shudders. Instinctively, she pulls the covers tighter around herself.

“You need to get out. You’re not supposed to be here,” she snaps, but it lacks conviction.

He just smiles, unfazed.

“Why not?”

He takes a step closer.

She tries not to look—but fails. Her eyes betray her, scanning the magnificent lines of his body. He’s shirtless—of course—and the soft light from her bedside lamp glows off the smooth planes of his chest, the defined muscles of his arms and torso. His briefs cling low on his hips, and the sight is maddening.

She forces herself to look away. Swallows hard.

“Please, Adrian, you’re not helping. This doesn’t fix anything. You have to leave. Now. Please.”

He shrugs again, feigning casual interest.

“Well, I was trying to keep my distance, you know. But then… you called out to me.”

Her frown deepens, voice sharp. “I didn’t call you. I was just—”

“Doing what?” he cuts in, cocking his head, eyes gleaming.

Her mouth opens, but she can’t find the words. Her cheeks blaze red as she bites her bottom lip and turns her face away, heat creeping across her skin.

“Of course,” he says, voice thick with knowing. “You were touching yourself. Moaning like you needed saving. And I heard my name. In the middle of all that pleasure, you called for me.”

She chuckles—flustered, dismissive. “You’re so full of yourself. I didn’t say your name.”

He grins devilishly. “Oh, you did. I heard it loud and clear.”

He takes another step, and another, and suddenly he’s climbing onto the bed. She scrambles back, heart pounding, until her back hits the headboard.

“Adrian, please,” she says, voice rising, breath hitching. “We seriously need to stop. Okay? I told you. Please—just help me out here.”

“I don’t want to stop,” he replies easily, crawling closer, eyes locked on hers. “I’ve told you that already.”

He reaches her, and her body stiffens against the headboard. Her hands push at his chest, but he doesn’t resist. He’s not forcing. He’s waiting. Watching.

“You’re fucking crazy,” she whispers, eyes wide.

He chuckles, nodding.

“Yeah, I know. I love being crazy. And you—” he leans in, his breath hot against her cheek— “you’re the only woman I’ve ever met who drives me crazier no matter how much I try not to be.”

“That’s… really flattering,” she says dryly. “But seriously. You need to stop. This is wrong, Adrian. I’m married. To your father.”

“I know,” he replies calmly.

She gives him a look of disbelief. “And you still don’t care?”

He shrugs. “Nope.”

Her breath hitches. “Oh fuck…”

He moves in, trapping her against the headboard, his face mere inches from hers. She can feel the warmth of him, the magnetic pull. Her heartbeat stutters.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is,” he murmurs, “walking around this house, seeing your mouth, your body—knowing I can’t touch you? Knowing you belong to someone else? It’s maddening. And worse, knowing that someone else is my father.”

She flinches, but he keeps going, eyes dark with hunger.

“All that treasure, wasted on him. And here I am, getting hard just watching you eat dinner.”

“Is that why you’re fucking me?” she snaps, her voice trembling.

He laughs, low and smooth. “No. I’m fucking you because I want you. Because I don’t want anyone else. And because I don’t give a damn who stands in the way. You’re mine. You belong to me. No matter what.”

Her breath catches again. That word—belong. Something about the way he says it makes her stomach twist, her insides clench with unspoken need.

Before she can protest again, his mouth is on hers—hot, slow, deliberate. He kisses her with devastating sensuality, tongue stroking hers, hands holding her face like she’s the only thing in the world. She moans softly, trying to resist, her hands pushing at his shoulders.

“Adrian… please. We’ve already done this too much today.”

“I don’t care,” he says between kisses, pushing her gently back onto the mattress. “I’m not finished.”

Her legs slide open involuntarily as he moves between them, her nightgown rising. She gasps, squirming as his hand finds the soft flesh of her inner thigh, trailing up, up, until his fingers slip between her folds.

“Oh my God,” she cries out, arching against his touch.

He slides his fingers deeper into her, groaning as her body clenches around him.

“You see?” he whispers. “You fight me, but your body always gives you away.”

She claws at the sheets, mouth open in a silent scream, and then she’s wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, helpless beneath him.

“Today’s not about making love,” he murmurs darkly into her ear. “Today is about testing how far I can take you.”

And with that, he thrusts three fingers deep into her pussy, making her cry out with a guttural moan.

“Ahhh… Adriaaan…!”

Her body jolts, hips grinding helplessly against his hand, her juices spilling out in warm, wet gushes that coat his palm. He fucks her with his fingers mercilessly, fast and hard, and her moans fill the room like music.

But then—

A sound.

They freeze.

Their heads snap to the door.

A young woman stands there—wide-eyed, frozen in shock, her mouth agape.

“Ella?” Adrian says, voice tinged with disbelief.

“I… I’m sorry,” the girl stammers, blinking rapidly. “The boss asked me to come watch the house tonight. I heard noise… I didn’t mean to—”

Adrian stands slowly, still towering above Amanda on the bed, his face going cold and hard.

“There’s nothing bad going on here,” he says with calm menace. “So I’d appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut.”

Ella nods, clearly overwhelmed, her hands trembling.

“Promise you won’t say anything,” Adrian repeats, voice like steel, eyes flashing with danger.

“I—I didn’t see anything,” she stutters, backing away, eyes locked on the floor. “I swear…”

She turns and disappears, shutting the door behind her.

Silence.

Adrian turns back to Amanda, exhaling a slow breath.

“Who’s that?” she asks breathlessly, still trembling.

He chuckles, the tension sliding off his shoulders.

“That’s just the maid. She comes now and then. But don’t worry, she won’t say a word. She can’t report to my father. And honestly? I don’t even care if he finds out. But I’m doing this for you… because I know how scared you are.”

She glares at him, breathing hard.

“You are so impossible,” she mutters.

And then—something overtakes her.

Some wild, unspoken need.

Her fingers slide down, grabbing his briefs and pulling them down. He raises an eyebrow and laughs darkly.

“Oh well… looks like you leave me no choice.”

And with a sharp breath, he spreads her legs wider, positions himself at her entrance, and thrusts deep into her in one hard, claiming stroke. Her cry echoes through the room as he begins to ride her hard, fast, and breathless—reckless in his rhythm, lost in the chaos they’ve created.