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홈 / Romance / Midnight Sins: A Spicy Compilation / 105. Perfect Performance (2)

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105. Perfect Performance (2)

작가: Too Intoxicating!
last update 게시일: 2026-03-17 21:07:03

The transition from the boardroom to the private executive dining suite was a blurred sequence of clinical light and the heavy, humid weight of the seed Soren had left inside me. I was still naked, my skin humming with the chill of the corridor as Soren led me by the arm, his fingers digging into the bruises he'd already gifted my bicep. Vanderbilt and Huxley followed like whipped dogs, their eyes glued to the sway of my ass and the way Soren's release was beginning to track down the inside of
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  • Midnight Sins: A Spicy Compilation   208. Company Whore (3)

    The mahogany desk in the mountain study was a massive, intimidating slab of wood that now served as Mira's sanctuary and her stage. While Killian sat centered, flanked by four of the most ruthless venture capitalists in the tech industry, Mira was on her knees in the darkness of the knee-hole, the thick rug cushioning her joints."The valuation is non-negotiable, gentlemen," Killian's voice was steady, projecting an air of absolute authority, but beneath the desk, Mira was already at work. She deftly unzipped his trousers, her eyes glinting with mischief as she pulled his heavy, pulsing length into the open air."Killian, we're talking about a forty percent stake for the initial series," one of the men, a sharp-featured shark named Vance, argued. "The risk profile-"Vance's voice cut out in Killian's ears as Mira's warm, wet tongue began a slow, agonizing swirl around the head of his cock. Killian's hand, resting casually on the desk, clenched into a fist."The risk is mitigated by ou

  • Midnight Sins: A Spicy Compilation   207. Company Whore (2)

    The transition from the sterile office to the private hangar was a blur of adrenaline and dread. Mira found herself seated in the plush, cream-colored leather of a Gulfstream G650, the engines humming a low, vibratory frequency that seemed to settle right in her lower abdomen. Killian sat across from her, his attention seemingly fixed on a tablet, though his thumb traced the rim of a crystal glass filled with amber liquid."You're fidgeting, Mira," he said without looking up. "The 'assistant' role requires a certain level of composure. If you can't handle a simple flight, how will you handle the weekend?""I've never been on a private jet before, Killian," she admitted, her voice trembling. "And I'm... I'm still sore from the office."Killian finally looked at her, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. "Good. That soreness is a reminder of who owns you. But since you're so restless, let's ensure you're properly 'occupied' for the duration of the trip." He reached into his

  • Midnight Sins: A Spicy Compilation   206. Company Whore (1)

    The fluorescent lights of the corporate headquarters felt like interrogation lamps the next morning. Mira sat in the lobby, her knees pressed together, her palms sweating against the leather of her handbag. For two years, she had lived a double life. By day, she was the quiet, efficient junior analyst; by night, she was "Violetta," a faceless adult creator whose curves were worshiped by thousands.The slip-up had been a matter of seconds. A camera tilt, a repositioning of the ring light, and there it was-the tall vanity mirror in her bedroom had caught her full face, eyes wide and lips parted, just as she was stripping out of a sheer black robe. She had killed the stream instantly, but the damage was done.The notification on her phone five minutes later had nearly stopped her heart. A screenshot of her face, followed by a message from a number she recognized all too well. "I knew that birthmark on your thigh looked familiar, Mira. See you in my office at 8:00 AM. Don't be late."Now,

  • Midnight Sins: A Spicy Compilation   205. The Governess

    The drafty study of the Hawthorn estate was bathed in the amber glow of dying embers and a single, flickering candelabra. Outside, the Yorkshire moors howled with a restless wind, but inside, the air was heavy with a different kind of storm.Thalia sat rigidly in a high-backed velvet chair, her hands clasped in her lap, her knuckles white. She wore a high-collared white blouse and a floor-length wool skirt, the attire of a proper young ward, but the fire in her eyes was anything but submissive. Standing before her, silhouetted against the dark oak bookshelves, was Beatrice. As the governess, Beatrice wore a charcoal dress that cinched her waist with unforgiving precision, her hair pulled back into a knot so tight it seemed to sharpen the predatory angle of her cheekbones.In Beatrice's hand was a polished boxwood ruler. She tapped it rhythmically against her palm-a slow, hypnotic thwack that punctuated the silence."We shall begin again, Thalia," Beatrice said, her voice a cool, cultu

  • Midnight Sins: A Spicy Compilation   204. Masters Forfeit (2)

    The morning sun barely penetrated the thick, grime-coated windows of the manor's attic. It was a space filled with the skeletal remains of past generations-sheet-covered furniture, iron-bound trunks, and the heavy, cloying scent of cedar and aged dust.Gideon stood by a Victorian-era dress form, his coat discarded, his shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with tension. In his hand, he idly slapped a thin, supple leather strap against his palm. Thwack. Thwack."You were found wanting again this morning, Saffron," Gideon said, his voice echoing in the rafters. "The master's coffee was lukewarm, and I found a smudge on the hallway mirror. It seems the library discipline wasn't quite enough to sharpen your focus."Saffron stood in the center of the dusty floor, still wearing the tattered remains of her maid's uniform. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were wide with a desperate, worshipful fear. She knew this part of the house was outside the reach of the other staff. Up here

  • Midnight Sins: A Spicy Compilation   203.. masters forfeit

    The ancestral manor of the Sterling-Vane family was silent, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the deliberate, heavy footsteps of its master. Gideon stood by the mahogany bookshelf, his eyes tracing the spine of a leather-bound volume, though his focus was entirely on the woman kneeling in the center of the library. Saffron was dressed in a costume that was as ridiculous as it was enticing: a tiny black silk apron over a sheer white lace dress that barely reached the tops of her thighs. She was holding a feather duster, her knuckles white as she scrubbed at a spot on the floor that had already been polished to a mirror finish. This was their game-a reprieve from the sterile perfection of their socialite lives. Here, she wasn't the mistress of the house; she was the "untrained" help, and Gideon was the cold, demanding owner whose word was law. "The dust on the lower shelves is still visible, Saffron," Gideon said, his voice a low, clinical rumble that made her breath hitch. "I

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