by Candy Quinn
I look at my travel outfit desperately, but it’s even less suitable for presentation. At least this looks put-together. Under different circumstances, maybe with the right guy, I’d love to wear this, but right now…
No time to decide. Cursing, I slip the heels on and awkwardly make my way out the hallway and down the stairs.
The other staff are already lined up, standing at attention. None of them look over at me. Shit, they’re all in on this prank, aren’t they? Well, I decide with a burning face, if I’m going to get fired, I’m going to do it with my head held high!
Then I hear a large door swing open, and my attention goes up to the top of the stairs. My eyes widen at what I see.
A man at least ten years older than me steps forward, piercing blue eyes surveying the assembly at the bottom of the stairs. And they come to a rest on me, narrowing coldly as my heart skips a beat. He’s tall, looming over the staircase like a gigantic bat, clad in a dark suit that’s immaculately tailored. He has stubble on his face, and his dark hair is combed back, making him look like winter itself in his dark, powerful beauty. There’s muscle under that suit, that much is obvious by his build alone. He has a chiseled jaw that stays immobile as he regards me, and I feel so exposed, so self-conscious that I feel my knees start to shake.
Folding his hands behind his back, he steps slowly down the stairs, glaring into my very soul like a vampire putting me into a trance. There’s no way I’m not about to get sacked. His steps are slow, deliberate, and powerful, and as he draws near me, I can tell just how much taller he is than me.
As he reaches the bottom of the stairs, I notice the rest of the staff either bowing or curtsying, to my confusion. This is 2016, how is that still a thing? It’s only once everyone stands up again that I realize I’ve conspicuously failed to follow suit, and Beth casts me a sidelong glance.
But before I can correct myself, the man—Lord Alastair Delaney, I realize—steps up to me, those paralyzing eyes on me again. He’s stripping me with those gorgeous blue eyes that look as sharp and cold as ice, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Follow me to the study,” he says, his voice deep, tone practiced, naturally authoritative. I know exactly what Cal meant when he referred to them as ‘commands.’ “I will teach you how to behave in my presence.”
With that, Lord Alastair turns and starts to walk up the stairs. I glance to Beth for help, but she gives me a meaningful look to follow him, and I swallow before my heels clack up the stairs after him.
He leads me wordlessly through double-doors down a private hallway, lined with tall, old portraits of what I can tell is a dynasty of British blood. I feel terribly alone as his heavy footsteps lead me, and I get the sense that I’m being led to my execution. I say nothing as we reach a heavy door that he pushes open, and I cautiously step in behind him.
And my jaw drops.
It’s a library, a huge, sprawling study with bookshelves lining every wall from floor to ceiling. Two spiral staircases lead up to a balcony in the center of the room, where a heavy desk is situated overlooking the whole place, and ladders sit perched against the bookshelves at each wall. The balcony extends all along the library like a second floor, and below where the desk sits is a warm, crackling fireplace flanked by statues of lions. I’ve always been a reader, but this? This is breathtaking. Lord Alastair steps in, and the door closes behind us with a dull thud, leaving us in silence.
I swallow. “Lord Alastair-” I start, but he calmly holds up a hand, his back to me.
“Master,” he says, and I blink, taken aback.
“I don’t…” I start, but he cuts me off again.
“You will refer to me as ‘Master’ from here onward, Maisie Kent,” he says, and my name is like the deep and haunting notes of a masterwork organ on his tongue. I blush. The way he looked at me on the stairs already had me on edge, but ‘Master?’ A shiver goes up my spine. Just what did this man hire me for?
He turns his head ever so slightly, and I realize he’s waiting for an answer. Shit, shit, what do I do? Something about all this, the outfit, the looks, commanding and controlling what I do and how I speak, it all feels so predatory. But then, there’s something almost supernatural about the way he commands my obedience, and I find the words spilling out of my mouth:
“Yes, Master.”
Finally, he turns, striding towards me slowly with those penetrating eyes. “Good girl. I will forgive this one mistake of yours.”
He can read the confusion and uncertainty in my face, and he reaches down to my skirt. Before I can stop him, he hooks a finger around my panties, his hand a vice on the thin, soft fabric, and I can feel his fingers on my bare skin as I look at him with widening eyes. His gaze hasn’t changed at all, a steely gaze that holds me immobile.
“This is not part of your uniform,” he says, his voice dripping with dark authority. Slowly, he withdraws his hand, praying he didn’t feel how wet this is making me.
I can’t help it, and I hate myself for it, but something about this terrifying man who has me cornered in his library is making my heart beat faster. I should have listened to my mother and stayed home, but this is such an unforeseen rush.
“I…” I squeak, but I should be livid, shouting at him for violating me so personally. But I can’t find it in my to do that. Before I can form any words, he steps forward and takes my face in his hand, bringing me forward and looking me over thoughtfully. Then his thumb swipes across my small mouth, and I feel warmth between my thighs getting warmer. Those blue eyes are so hard to read, but he’s looking at me like he might look over a piece of jewelry, and it’s driving something within me wild.
He makes a thoughtful noise, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he looks at me, and his hand lowers from my face.
“Remove it,” he says simply, and I don’t know what to say.
When I don’t respond instantly, he glances at me, such an iron vice in that glance that I feel my body impulsively going to my skirt, reaching under to the edge of my panties and pausing there a moment. Am I really doing this? Is this happening? Is he making me do this? No, I could walk out right now, but instead, I hook my fingers under the elastic and slowly, so slowly bring it down. I’m a proud woman—I’m not going to whip my panties off in a nervous haste, even if there’s something intoxicating about his commands, like a sweet poison I can’t get enough of.
And those eyes watch me closely as I bring the fabric down my thighs, across the white of the frilly stockings, then down to my heels.
Without his asking, I then stand up and hand the underwear to him. He pauses a moment before extending his hand and taking it, bringing the front of the simple white fabric to his nose, never breaking eye contact with me.
For the first time, I see an almost cruel, mocking smile cross his lips, and he balls the underwear up in his fist before he tosses it aside. “You desire me,” he states, a simple truth whether I want to argue it or not. “You will learn quickly. Apologize for your mistake.”
My breath is caught in my throat. This is petrifying, and I’m like a deer in the headlights for a moment. He slowly raises an eyebrow, like a teacher waiting for his answer from a petulant student. But if it’s going to cost me my job, then fuck me, I’ll be the best student ever. But I can’t pretend that the job is the only thing on my mind when I look at his terrifying, gorgeous figure looming over me.
“I...I’m sorry, Master,” I say, looking up at him demurely as I fold my hands in front of me, not forgetting to include the last part. It’s subtle, but I can tell he likes that. There’s so much on my mind. How did he know my name? How much did he know about me before I even set foot in here? Was I sent here just to...to be his…
“Good. I do not tolerate deviation among my staff...unless I direct it,” he says, his voice like silk. “As for your punishment,” he says, taking a step back and folding his hands behind his back, and I feel a chill run down my spine. Punishment? For wearing panties? Is he serious? But his even gaz
e tells me he is deadly serious. “Strip for me, Maisie.”
I swipe my tongue across my lips, cheeks furiously red. The audacity of this man! I’m just a domestic, how can he expect me to jump at his orders like some slave?
“Lord Ala- er, Master. I-I-I worry there might have been some mistake,” I said, and his cold gaze tells me I never should have spoken at all, but I press on. “I took this job thinking I was to be a m-maid, not a...a…”
“A what, Maisie?” he asks, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. “Did you not come here knowing you would be asked to follow my exact orders,” he says, fury just below that dark exterior. “I won’t ask again, Maisie. Take your clothes off.”
I look absolutely helpless, but there’s something in me spurring me on. The aura about this man is enough to overwhelm a girl, and I feel my heart racing at a mile a minute. Finally, I swallow all my pride, all my defiance, and I let something more base come to the surface. Why am I doing this? I don’t know, but something burning under my skin compels me.
I step out of my shoes first, feeling even smaller in front of him as I push them aside, leaving myself in stockings on the cool floor. I reach behind my back and unfasten my corset slowly, and he watches hungrily as my body relaxes into its natural shape.
The freckles on my shoulders look all the more prominent against my pale skin in this light. I have a small, round face that people have called pixie-like before, but nothing about the way Lord Alastair is looking at me feels half so whimsical.
I let the corset fall to the ground, leaving my breasts exposed to him, the cool castle draft chilling them and making my nipples stiff. My instinct is to reach up and cover them, biting my lip, but Lord Alastair gives me a look that almost forces my hands to redirect and go to my skirt, slowly pulling it down over my legs and letting it sit at my feet before I step out delicately.
“Good,” he says, a single deep note in the chamber as he starts to step towards me, apparently not minding my stockings, and on reflex, I start to step back towards one of the bookshelves as he makes his way towards me. I’m gripped by fear, something that both terrifies and excites me all at once. I’ve just exposed myself to this man who’s got at least ten years on me, my boss. What am I doing?! I’m just some American girl raised British in way over her head, but come so far now, and my heart is trying to force its way out of my naked breast.
“Now, Maisie,” he says as I bump into something cool and wooden—a library ladder, firm and solid, and I put a hand on it for comfort as I look at him, nearly trembling, but so fucking hot I can’t stand it, the lips of my pussy so wet and needy. “Why did I hire you?”
“You…” I say as the flesh of my ass presses against a rung of the ladder, and he’s looming over me now, still not touching a thing. But the answer is on my lips. “You hired me to follow your exact commands, Master,” I say, swallowing.
“Good girl,” he says, reaching forward and taking my breasts in his hands, thumbs stroking over my nipples, and I gasp as electricity unlike anything I’ve even known shoots through my body. “You’ll make a fine little maid, if you learn so quickly.”
“Th-thank you, Master,” I manage, getting the rhythm of things. Something warm rolls through me as I sense his approval.
“Very good indeed,” he says, his accent a sweet spice on his tongue. “I reward my obedient servants well.” His hands go to his coat, and he slips it off, tossing it aside before his hands go to his black shirt, unbuttoning each button slowly on his way down, slowly exposing a chest with more muscle, more statuesque definition than I could have looked for in a Renaissance painting. His physique is flawless, I realize as he strips the shirt off and takes my tiny hand in his massive one to put to his chest.
There’s a powerful heartbeat there, so at least I know he’s not a vampire. He then lets me explore his torso, letting me feel every inch of rippling abs, sides, pecs, shoulders...he’s a god among men, I decide, blinking as if to wake myself from a dream.
And he can do whatever he wants with me.
He takes my hand again, bringing it down to his trousers, where I feel the thing between his legs. He’s absolutely massive, the bulge threatening to burst from his pants, and once I’ve gotten a feel of him stiffening, he unbuttons his pants and lets the massive cock out.
“Oh god,” I say without thinking. The size of the thing is enormous. It bulges purple at the crown, hungry, needy, and all for me, it occurs to me. The thick shaft is ribbed with veins, more girth than I’ve ever dreamed of. And it ends in heavy, full balls, the smell of his virile masculinity filling my senses already.
“‘God’ is a little excessive, Maisie,” he says, amused. I can tell he knows I’m a virgin—nobody else would have that kind of reaction to a cock. But it only makes it stiffen even more, leaving it erect and alert for me. “Now, what do we say to Master?”
The words come to me before I can even form them in my mind, pure, raw instinct. “Please, Master,” I say, my tone begging, “fuck me. I want to feel whole with you inside me, Master.” Is this even me talking? I’ve hardly even had a boyfriend, much less...whatever I just asked Lord Alastair! But something about him is so overwhelming I just can’t help it.
He reaches down and wraps a hand around the back of my neck, guiding me to push myself up a few rungs on the ladder to his height. “Good girl,” he says in a dark husk, and as my wet pussy radiates heat, I feel his crown at my lips, and he pushes in.
“Ohhh!” I gasp, a stifled yelp as he covers my mouth with his hand, pressing my head against the rungs of the ladder.
“Shush, darling,” he coos, “I’ll tell you when you can speak.”
I draw in a sharp breath as he pushes himself into me, and it’s unlike anything I could have expected. His shaft is hard and hot, and my heat mixes with his deliciously inside my pussy. I’m so tight around him I’m worried it won’t all fit, but I’m so slick with honey that my whole body seems to welcome him in.
I never thought I would need this, but as he penetrates me to the hilt, I realize that I do. I’m hypnotized by his gaze as my eyes watch his. I think I should close them—that’s what they do in the movies, right? But I’m held in place by his eyes, and I wonder if he really is some kind of unearthly being, so powerful is his hold on me.
“I knew you would be tight around me, darling,” he growls as he starts to grind into me, gently at first, his bulging, needy crown feeling every inch of my insides, touching parts of me my fingers would never reach, “but I didn’t think you’d be quite so...fitting,” he says, and I can feel a shudder of pleasure ripple through him as he starts to pick up a rhythm move in and out of me.
The idea that I could have this effect on him makes my heart want to swell out of my chest. That this towering, powerful man could be so turned on by some maid? A servant? But I’m so much more than that, something in me tells me, the same something that spurred me on to bend to the will of my lust so easily. It’s an intoxicating feeling.
I was always told that your first time was supposed to hurt, but Lord Alastair doesn’t feel like that. It’s frightening, having something so huge and throbbing inside of me, but the way he moves is firm and practiced, striking parts of me that have always been begging to be struck, if only I’d been in touch with my body. Nothing like the pain I’ve heard about.
It feels right.
Up on the ladder, I can let myself bounce on his cock, and it doesn’t take me long to start to match his steady rhythm, pushing his cock deeper and deeper within me. I need him. I need this. This virile example of masculinity is utter perfection, his body rippling with power and energy, his musk like a drug I can’t get enough of.
“Sing for me, darling,” he commands, removing his hand from my lips to hold my wrists behind my back on the ladder, pinning me against it with his bulging spear. At his command, I let little moaning gasps escape me as my mouth hangs open. As he hears me, his cock swells, and I feel precum wetting my insides.
I feel electricity at
my nipples, and I look down to realize his mouth has gone to them, teeth grazing against them as he pounds fiercely into me, his cock arching up and striking the innermost walls of my pussy.
Suddenly, as suddenly as Lord Alastair swept me into this library, I feel heat rising up in me like a geyser, and I arch my back as I realize he’s bucking against what must be my g-spot. My orgasm hits me, hard, and I let out a loud cry that echoes in the huge library. That only makes him fuck me harder, more fiercely, his torturous rhythm exciting that same spot gloriously and making the waterfall of ecstasy wash through me over and over again.
My cries fill the room like music as he torments my breasts, his tongue washing over my nipples and teeth gently biting at them. I want to squirm away, but I have nowhere to go—I’m utterly in his grasp.
“You’re uncivilized, darling,” he says into my ear as he pants, his massive cock swelling and thrusting into me with renewed vigor. “You’ve known from the moment you walked into my ancient halls that you’re in over your head. A commoner. A maid.” He runs a hand down my back, nails scratching into me as he does, marking me as I let out a gasp. I’m too overwhelmed by the sensation and passion to protest.
“If you want to prove yourself to me, darling,” he growls, more fierce and sinister now, “you’ve got to work for it.”
I have no idea what to do, my mind a haze of pleasure and fear all wrapped into one in Lord Alastair’s grasp. Should I arch my back, clench, scratch his back? But even as I wonder, he just seems to be able to guide my hips around to let his cock deep into my pussy harder and faster and with such blissfully precise thrusts that I feel like I’ve been doing this for years.
Yet I feel the need to please him, to let him have more of me, somehow, anyway I can, and so the words spill out of my mouth without hesitation:
“Come inside me, Master!”
It’s not a request, it’s a plea, full of desire and the drive of the primal lust this first time with him has awakened in me. And as I beg for his seed, I feel his cock swell larger and harder than I ever knew a cock could be.