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She gives me a questioning look and says, “How? I’m just the maid, after all.”
I trace the outline of her face with my forefinger and bring it along her chin.
I pull her chin up so she’s looking at me more squarely in the eyes and say, “You’re not just a maid. You’re more than that. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
She blushes, and I’m happy to see her reaction. I love knowing that she feels flushed under my gaze and admiration. I get off on the power play here.
If I can make her flush, then I can make her do other things.
But she says, “Oh no, Matt. I’m sure you say that to everybody. Those lines won’t work on me.”
She doesn’t know that I’m actually being serious. But I’m not going to correct her either. There’s no need in getting her hopes up, letting her think that something more will come of this.
It simply can’t.
“So what does Mrs. Simmons have you doing in here?” I ask her as I take in the look of the place.
It’s a total mess, and I feel bad having Meg do it all on her own.
“She has me polishing all the wood and organizing everything,” Meg says.
“All the wood?” I say incredulously. “There’s a lot of wood in here. That’s gonna take you forever.”
She sighs and says, “I know. Believe me, I know.”
Internally, I think that I’m gonna have to find a way to get Meg out of this job but still be able to stay at the mansion.
She just shouldn’t be doing manual labor. She looks exhausted. I think Mrs. Simmons has been too hard on her.
We can hire somebody else. We can hire five other people. I don’t care, as long as Meg is free...to be with me.
I have my sights set on her, and I’m sure my brothers do as well. I want to be the first one to make my presence known. I want her to connect with me...and only me.
So I pull her up from her seat on my father’s oversized leather chair. I gently grasp her waist and take her toward me.
“Why don’t you take a break?” I say, pulling her close.
She tries to back away in protest. “No, Matt, really I shouldn’t. Mrs. Simmons will be mad. We can’t...you know...here.”
I keep her within my grasp and pull her to me again so that I’m whispering my words against her lips and she can feel my thick, twelve-inch cock rising for her.
“I said, take a break,” I repeat myself in a more serious tone.
Her eyes widen at my command, and I know that she’s mine already.
She’s probably wet between the legs just thinking of me and how my cock will feel sliding in and out of her, penetrating her secrets.
She doesn’t protest; she doesn’t even move. I kiss her lips gently at first, and I graze my teeth along her bottom lip. She moans a little, and I can tell she wants more, so I go in deeply.
I place my big hands around her slim waist and pull her in so our bodies are in line. She feels so lithe and light under my grasp, but also her pert, perfectly shaped tits are pressing against my chest, and that makes my cock rock-hard.
She’s a good kisser, and we make out for a very long while. She can’t contain her little cries for me, and I know that just this is making her ache for even more—for all of me.
If it was up to me, I’d have her bent over one of the tufted leather couches in here, and I’d be sliding my cock deep within her from behind.
But as it is, I have respect for the girl. We hardly know each other at all, and I want to make sure when we’re finally together that she’s comfortable and that it’s an unforgettable moment.
I don’t want a quick fuck over the couches. I want an all-around session where I can make sure she comes at least a few times.
