Maid Of Pleasure Novels & Stories

Mateo stopped dead in his tracks, his breath hitching sharply in his chest as he took in the scene. There she was. She was winding her waist against the brass pole, her body completely bare under the red glow for the client on the couch. As Mateo stared at her, his heart hammered violently against his ribs. He saw the intricate silver lace mask covering her eyes. He saw the distinct, incredibly long waves of dark hair falling over her bare shoulders, framing her exposed breasts exactly like the girl from his memory. He recognized the shape of her jaw, the curve of her waist, and the fierce, angry energy radiating from her very skin. It was her. The dancer from the night before.

She lay panting, her chest heaving, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. "Good girl," she breathed. "We're going to have so much fun while my husband is away." The maid stayed on her knees, her chin wet, her heart racing. She didn't know if she'd been freed or trapped. But deep down, in a place she didn't want to acknowledge, she knew she wanted more.

But his attention was entirely focused on the woman moving through the room with a tray of champagne glasses. Aria looked stunning in the formal uniform, professional and elegant. No one looking at her would guess that she was struggling to maintain composure. That she had a vibrator inside her that he controlled. That she was his in ways none of these people could imagine. He'd kept it on the lowest setting so far.....just enough to remind her, not enough to distract. He watched her serve drinks, smile politely at guests, play the perfect maid. Then Marcus Reynolds approached, and Damien decided to test her control.

While he stood talking to some federal judges about land reform, Mason had already crossed the floor and struck up a conversation with her. “She’s not here for show,” he had said later over bourbon. “She’s here because she’s out of options. She needs help.” Adler didn't need more explanation. Power could fill gaps where justice failed. He made the plain offer through Mason quietly.And when she finally called, her voice sealed it with just two words, “I’m in.” She sounded cool and decisive but beneath those two words, he caught the tremor of desperation. She wanted answers; he wanted a good political image. Nothing more, nothing less.

Muse Club, a top-tier playground for the wealthy, had been rented out for the night. Sensual lights flickered, and DJ music blared deafeningly. Lucia wore a bachelorette queen's sash and stood in the center of the dance floor, dancing passionately and soaking up the cheers and adoration. "Let's toast to the future Madre!" "The Principessa is so lucky. That Underboss is the most untouchable man in this city, and you still landed him!"

Lady Sia’s breathing became ragged, her fingers gripping the leather arms of the chair. Then Lady Sia violently wrapped her long, toned legs around my slave’s head and shuddered in obvious ecstasy. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice breaking as her body convulsed with release. Fluid dripped down onto my slave’s blindfolded face, mixing with the saliva already there. Lady Sia finally relaxed her grip, a blissful smile spreading across her aristocratic features. Madame X, ever efficient, roughly grabbed the nameless girl by her hair and pulled her to her feet with practiced brutality.

"You're way too beautiful to be a maid, dear." I smiled, not looking up from the window I was scrubbing, "Mrs. Beatrice, that's the third time you are saying this today." "Because it's true three times over." Mrs Beatrice, the woman I now worked for as a personal maid, settled deeper into her armchair, the wood creaking under her weight. "A girl with a face like yours should be married to some wealthy merchant, not on her knees scrubbing floors."

" she was delirious with pleasure as Adam teased her stiffening desire. He sucked her clit again and she nearly screamed in so much pleasure. She involuntarily pulled Adam's hair as she pushed his face into her wet femininity. What he was doing was extremely intoxicating, especially when he prodded the entrance of her womanhood. She couldn't help but squirm, moan, and her body heated up even more. "Ohhhh, God! Ahhhh...." She was now incoherent with pleasure. Adam looked up and gazed intensely into her eyes. "You like that, my precious?"

He walked up to the maid, who was now batting lashes at him, pushing out her plump chest "Your highness" she called out coquettishly. Every single unmated she wolves in the palace were always eager to f*ck him and he did just that every single time but had stopped for a while. But the maid before him had redhair, just like Ava making his blood hot. He walked up to her, her uniform short and tight accentuates her voracious figure, Dolion reached for her chest, grabbing and fondling it without a care. Dolion tore her clothes, her large boobs spilled out. He buried his fingers into their softness and slowly caressed her nipples, she moaned in response every single time and even reached down to

The tea set was edged in gold. Her grandmother, Aurelia Devereux, wore a peignoir and red lipstick at noon and referred to herself only as “Madam.” Madam had once run the most exclusive pleasure salon in Europe—discreet, decadent, and whispered about in embassies and royal families alike. “Tell me, my little diamond,” she purred, brushing Dominique’s hair with an ivory comb. “Do you know the difference between obedience and surrender?” “One is forced,” Dominique said. “The other is given.”