AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re beautiful. You’re sexy. I really don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“I’m not sexy,” she murmurs.
“Rosie,” I snarl, beast-like. “If I tell you you’re sexy, that means you’re fucking sexy, understood?”
She flinches. “I’ve never been called sexy before,” she says.
I almost blurt it all out right now.
I almost tell her she’s mine, that she belongs to me.
That she’s going to give me a family one day.
But this is all rushing ahead so quickly. I don’t want to spook my horny naïve minx.
“Go and get changed,” I growl. “You’re my maid now, remember? I’ll show you how sexy you are.”
“Are you serious?” she says.
I stroke my hand around her hip, squeezing onto her ass and then tugging her toward me.
I drive my cock against her sex, my rock hard, throbbing cock.
“Does it feel like I’m serious?” I snarl. “Do what you’re told. Now.”
Chapter Nine
Rosie
I keep waiting for the punchline as I walk back to the library, dressed in the maid’s uniform Ryland left for me at the bottom of my wardrobe.
When he fell upon me in the library, I was sure there was some sort of twisted joke waiting beneath it all. I’ve never been wanted in that way, and especially not by a man like Ryland.
My lips – my mouth-lips and my other lips – are still tingling from what we did.
My nipples are tender and hard in the maid’s uniform, my breasts feeling weighty without a bra on. Excitement bubbles beneath the surface of this moment, but there’s something else, too, something grotesque and twisted.
This is a trick, the scared high schooler inside of me screams. He’s making fun of you.
I don’t want to believe it.
This is a lot of trouble to go through to make fun of somebody.
And yet the alternative doesn’t make any sense.
He said he found me sexy.
I’ve never been called that before.
I’ve definitely never felt it before.
He’s sitting beneath one of the towering bookshelves when I return, one leg laid across the other. His suit is slightly crumpled from what we did, creases in the stark silver, making him look even more savage and possessive.
He said he owned me as he brought me to orgasm.
But I know he didn’t mean what I wish he did, that we’re going to be together forever, that we’re going to start a family together.
But then he did say he owned my womb, too.
What did he mean by that?
Maybe it was just dirty talk. It’s not as though I’ve got enough experience in this area to judge.
He stands up, his near silver eyes glinting in the lamplight of the library.
“Fucking hell,” he smirks, swaggering over to me with his hands behind his back.
His muscles throb and pulse in his steel-colored suit jacket, the tendons in his neck shimmering as though he could explode any second.
“Did you bring your duster, my little maid?” he snarls.
I’ve never been called little before, but I think he’s talking about our age, rather than my size. A thrill moves through me at the word, setting my nerves alight, making me want to reach out and grab the thick outline of his manhood.
“Yes,” I say, taking out the miniature duster and opening the contraption.
“Good little minx,” he smirks. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s time to clean.”
His eyes burn into me, his smirk captivating as it twitches toward a real smile.
But I think Ryland is too much of a wild beast to actually smile for real.
“Don’t you think I’ll need more than this little thing?” I murmur, giggling.
“Just bend that gorgeous ass over and start dusting, maid,” he smirks. “You’re not staying here for free, remember.”
I turn away from him, wondering if he’s laughing at me behind my back. The desire to accept this budding closeness rises inside of me like a deafening scream, moaning at me that I deserve this.
Just because the douchebags in high school never paid me any attention, it doesn’t mean nobody ever will.
I walk over to the nearest bookshelf, awed by the size of it, by the number of books. My heart swells and sings knowing that this man places such a high importance on books.
I wonder if I’ll get a chance to tell him about my passion for literature.
I wonder if he’ll care.
“Oh, fuck,” he growls as I bend forward, trailing the duster along the shelf. “Who told you to take your underwear off, Rosie?”
“They were all wet and sticky,” I murmur. “And I thought you’d want me too. I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize,” he snaps, his voice husky. “I can see how wet you are, glistening in the light. Your hole is so fucking pink. Your lips are so big and juicy looking, begging to be touched. Keep cleaning, maid.”
I move along the shelf, sticking my ass out for him, fireworks flaring through me when I hear the floorboards creak toward me. He walks calmly across the room, bringing with him his just-Ryland scent, musky and woodsy.
