The Maid's Deception-Chapter 35 - 34: Breaking Point II

Aria increased the pressure, her movements becoming more desperate, less controlled. Her dress had ridden up completely now, bunched around her waist, and she was essentially bare against him except for the soaked lace of her panties.

"That’s it. Look at you. So beautiful like this. So desperate. So mine." His hands slid from her hips to her ass, gripping hard, helping her move faster. "You’re going to come all over my thigh, aren’t you? Going to make a mess of my expensive suit."

"Yes...oh god...yes...."

"Do it then. Come for me. Show me who you belong to."

The orgasm had been building all night, held back by his control, and now it crashed over her with devastating force. She cried out....loud enough that anyone passing by would have heard....as pleasure tore through her body in waves so intense they bordered on painful.

Damien held her through it, his hands firm on her hips, his thigh pressed hard against her as she convulsed and shook.

"Beautiful," he murmured against her ear. "Absolutely fucking beautiful. But we’re not done yet."

Before she could recover, before she could even catch her breath, his hand slid between them. His fingers found her entrance and pushed inside....two at once, stretching her, filling her.

"Damien....I can’t....too sensitive...."

"You can." His fingers curled, finding that perfect spot inside her. "You’re going to give me another one. Right now."

His thumb found her clit—still oversensitive from the first orgasm...and pressed down with firm, rhythmic circles while his fingers worked inside her.

"No...I can’t...it’s too much...."

"Yes, you can." His free hand fisted in her hair, tilting her head back so he could look into her eyes. "Come again. Now."

The second orgasm hit faster than the first, building on the residual pleasure that hadn’t fully faded. She came with a sob, her body clenching around his fingers, tears streaming down her face from the intensity.

"Perfect," Damien said, working her through it. "So perfect for me."

When the waves finally subsided, leaving her trembling and gasping, she collapsed against his chest. His fingers withdrew slowly, and she felt him adjust her dress, smoothing it down with careful attention.

They sat like that for a moment...her straddling his thigh, her face buried in his neck, his arms wrapped around her.

"That," Aria finally managed, her voice hoarse, "was insane."

"That was necessary." His hand stroked her back. "You needed the release. Your body was wound so tight you were about to shatter."

She could feel him beneath her....hard and wanting. The evidence of his arousal pressed against her hip, and suddenly she was hyperaware that while she’d found release twice now, he hadn’t at all.

"What about you?" she whispered against his neck.

"What about me?"

"You’re...." She shifted slightly, deliberately pressing against the hard length of him. "You want..."

"Of course I want." His hand came up to cup the back of her head. "But that’s not what tonight is about."

"Then what is it about?"

"Teaching you that your pleasure belongs to me. That I control when and how you come. That your body responds to me and only me." His grip tightened in her hair. "And making sure you’re so addicted to what I give you that the thought of going without becomes unbearable."

She should be alarmed by that. Should recognize the manipulation for what it was.

Instead, all she felt was a desperate, aching need for more.

"I want you," she said, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "I want all of you. Not just your fingers or your mouth or....I want you inside me. Completely."

Damien went very still beneath her. "Sarah...."

"Please." She pulled back to look at him, and there must have been something in her expression....some raw vulnerability...because his jaw tightened. "Please, Damien. I’m ready. I want this. I want you."

"You don’t know what you’re asking for."

"Yes, I do." Her hand slid down his chest, lower, until she could feel him through his pants...hard and thick and wanting. "I’m asking you to fuck me. To take what’s yours. To stop holding back and just..."

His hand caught her wrist, stopping her movement. "Not like this."

"Why not?"

"Because when I finally take you...when I make you completely mine....t’s not going to be in a car in a parking lot." His eyes were dark with barely restrained desire. "It’s going to be in my bed. Where I have all night to worship every inch of you. Where I can take my time making you fall apart over and over until you’re sobbing my name."

"I don’t care where....."

"I do." He shifted her off his lap with surprising gentleness, settling her back in the passenger seat. "And you will too, when you’re thinking clearly. This is too important to rush."

"I’m not rushing. I’ve wanted this for weeks...."

"Exactly. Weeks." He started the engine, his jaw tight with control. "You can wait a little longer. We both can."

Aria wanted to argue, wanted to push, wanted to climb back into his lap and make him lose that iron control. But something in his expression stopped her.

This mattered to him. However twisted his methods, however possessive his approach, he genuinely cared about making her first time perfect.

The thought made her chest tighten with an emotion she didn’t want to name.

*********

They drove back to the estate in charged silence. Every few minutes, Damien’s hand would reach over to rest on her thigh....possessive, claiming, reminding her that even without the vibrator, even without actively touching her, he owned her responses.

When they pulled into the private garage, Aria moved to open her door, but her legs were shaking so badly she stumbled.

Damien was there immediately, catching her before she could fall.

"Easy," he murmured. "I’ve got you."

"I can walk...."

"No, you can’t." He swept her up into his arms easily, cradling her against his chest. "You can barely stand. That’s what happens when I make you come that hard."

She should protest. Should insist on walking under her own power. But her body was boneless, exhausted, and being carried felt too good to fight.

He took her through the private corridors again, avoiding the main areas. At one point they passed a security guard who wisely kept his eyes forward, pretending not to notice his boss carrying a woman in an expensive dress through the mansion at midnight.

When they reached her room in the staff wing, Damien had to shift her weight to open the door. Once inside, he carried her to the bed and set her down gently.

"Arms up," he said, and she obeyed automatically.

He pulled the designer dress over her head carefully, folding it and setting it aside. Then he found one of her oversized t-shirts and helped her into it with surprising tenderness.

"In," he commanded, pulling back the covers.

She slid beneath them, and he tucked them around her like she was something precious. Something worth protecting.

"Sleep," he said, brushing hair back from her face. "You need to rest."

"Stay," she whispered. "Just for a little while."

Damien hesitated, then sat on the edge of the bed. "Just until you fall asleep."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

His hand found hers beneath the covers, fingers threading together. And sitting there in the dim light of her small room, Aria let herself pretend...just for a moment....that this was real. That she wasn’t lying to him. That they could actually have something beyond the twisted game they were playing.

"Damien?" she said softly, already half asleep.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you. For tonight. For making me feel...." She yawned. "For making me feel special."

Something flickered across his face....too quick to read in the darkness.

"You are special," he said quietly. "More than you know."

She wanted to ask what he meant, but exhaustion was pulling her under. Her eyes drifted closed, and the last thing she was aware of was his hand still holding hers, warm and solid and real.

When she woke hours later, he was gone. But on her nightstand sat a small card in his bold handwriting:

You were perfect tonight. Rest tomorrow. You’ll need your strength for what comes next. —D

Beneath it was a velvet box. Inside, a delicate bracelet that matched the necklace and earrings....more of his marks, more of his claims.

And tucked in the bottom of the box, a key card with no label.

Aria stared at it for a long moment, her heart racing, before the realization hit her.

It was an access card. For the restricted areas of the estate.

For the greenhouse.

He was giving her what she’d come for. What she’d been planning to steal.

But why? Was it a test? A trap? Or something else entirely?

Her phone buzzed....her mission phone. A text from Marcus.

Your mom asked me to tell you she loves you. She seems worse today. I think you should visit soon.

The guilt crashed over her fresh and devastating.

While she’d been riding Damien’s thigh in a parking lot, while she’d been begging him to fuck her, while she’d been falling deeper into his web...her mother had been dying alone in a hospital bed.

She looked at the key card again. At the bracelet. At the note.

This was what she’d come for. Access to the greenhouse. The ability to save her mother.

So why did it feel like a trap?

And why, instead of relief, did she feel like she was about to lose everything that mattered?