Maid to Obey (Primal Fantasies #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

Thorne

The night wraps around me like a shroud, heavy and suffocating as I prepare to drift into a world where shadows twist and the air is thick with unspoken desires. I lay sprawled in my bed, the silk sheets a stark contrast to the turmoil simmering within me as I wait for the dreams to come.

They always do. No matter what I try, there's no respite from them, and I know I'll wake up exhausted, slicked in sweat, and bearing an ache so deep, even jacking off in the shower tomorrow morning won't assuage the craving.

The moment sleep takes me, I’m no longer a billionaire, cloaked in wealth and power; I’m a lurker in the corners of my mind, where my darkest fantasies weave their magic.

Tonight, like every night, she appears before me, a vision dressed in a simple, starched maid’s uniform that clings to her body in all the right places, accentuating curves that demand to be worshipped. Perfection embodied in submission.

The theme is a recurring one, like my subconscious demands to be served.

Her dark hair sweeps down her back, cascading in waves that beckon me to tangle my fingers through it. To pull. To use it as a leash. To make her yield to my will.

I can smell the faint fragrance of lavender mixed with something intoxicatingly raw, and it pulls me deeper into this abyss of forbidden desires.

In my dreams, I am not the master I crave to be, but rather the puppet dancing to the strings of my depravity. A hostage to the obscenities my subconscious mind conjures.

Tonight, she glides through the vast, shadow-laden rooms of my penthouse, her footsteps deliberate and graceful. Each soft sound echoes, punctuating the silent invitation she offers. I follow her, drawn by an undeniable magnetism, a dangerous blur of lust and power that clouds my judgment.

“Sir…” Her voice is a sultry melody that curls around me like a lover’s caress. It sends electric shivers racing down my spine. She knows my desires, knows how to break me down before building me back into something… more primal.

Just as I know how to break her.

I watch as she picks up a feather duster, the innocent tool transforming in her hands as she twirls it playfully, teasing me.

“Would you like me to clean, sir?” she asks, her eyes glinting with mischief yet holding a depth that promises gratification beyond mere pleasures.

Her voice slips into a sultry purr as she steps closer, fingertips brushing my chest in a way that ignites a fire within me.

“I’m so good at making things spotless… even your darkest corners. ”

If only that were the truth.

I can feel the hunger radiating between us, a palpable tension that warms the cool air. Here and now, the suave billionaire is gone, and I'm no more than a vessel filled with lust and vice.

My breath quickens, and I wonder how far I’m willing to go, what price I’m willing to pay as she beckons me deeper into my darkness, heedlessly throwing open the doors which will free the beast inside me and allow him to come out and play.

The dream morphs. This is my territory now, and I stalk towards her, all traces of playfulness gone from her expression as I grasp that long, luscious hair and use it to subjugate her to my will.

Her eyes fly wide open as my grip tightens brutally. The playful spark vanishes, and in its place is a mixture of fear and apprehension that drives a thrill through me.

Yanking downward, I force her to her knees with a satisfying thud and a surprised cry.

Her magnificent chest heaves, her breath coming in quick gasps, making the starched uniform strain deliciously against her curves. The scent of her perfume mingled with her fear-tinged sweat is intoxicating.

"Clean?" I ask, my voice rough with lust. "Nothing is clean in here; there’s only filth and debasement. Clean? No. I think you need to be taught a lesson in true service."

I trace my free hand along her jaw, my fingers trailing down her milky throat.

Tightening my hand around her neck, I feel her pulse quicken beneath the savage grip as her breath stutters, and the beast inside me roars its approval, demanding more.

Craving to break her, to remake her in the image of my darkest fantasies.

And I will.

I can’t stop the low growl that reverberates in my chest as I drink in the sight of her trembling form. My lovely little maid's eyes are wide with a mixture of fear and anticipation that sparks a thrill of forbidden pleasure.

"You think you can tease me and get away with it?" I ask, my voice a dangerous rumble. “A lesson is required, I believe.”

Letting go of her hair, I grasp the front of her uniform, bunching the starched fabric in my fist. In one swift motion, it tears it open, the buttons scattering across the floor. The ripping sound echoes in the dimly lit room, mixing with her startled gasp.

Her breasts spill free, pale and perfect, just waiting for me to mark them, and my mouth dries, desire coiling hot and tight in my belly.

Reaching down to cup one breast, I squeeze hard enough to make her whimper before brushing my thumb over her nipple and feeling it harden under my touch.

Her soft moan ignites something primal within me. I crouch down, capturing her other nipple between my teeth, the harsh bite making her cry out. The sound is music to my ears, fueling the dark hunger that threatens to consume me.

The hunger I plan to embrace.

"This is what happens when you tease," I growl against her skin, my breath hot and heavy. "You awaken the beast, and now you'll face the consequences."

I release her throat, only to grasp her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated with a mix of terror and arousal that has a jolt of lust arrowing straight to my groin, causing my engorged cock to strain painfully in the confines of my suit pants.

"On your hands and knees," I command, my voice deep and dangerous. "Now."

She hesitates for a moment, and I feel a surge of anger.

Without warning, I shove her down, relishing the small yelp that escapes her lips as she catches herself on her palms. The view of her on all fours before me, her torn uniform hanging off her shoulders, causes a wave of dark satisfaction to crash over me.

I run my hand down her spine, savoring the shudder that runs through her body at my touch.

The remaining fabric of her outfit gets in my way, so I bunch it in both fists and rip it again, then use the remnants to bind her wrists in front of her, so she has to drop to her elbows for support.

It has the fortunate effect of putting her delicious backside even more on display.

With purposefully misleading gentleness, I trace the curve of her ass before delivering a sharp smack, the sound echoing in the room.

She yelps, her body jerking forward, but I hold her in place.

"Count," I demand, my voice thick with lust. "And if you miss any, we start over again."

"One," she responds with a quavering whimper.

I bring my hand down again, harder this time. The sting in my palm is exquisite, matched only by the reddening mark on her flesh.

"Two," she gasps, her fingers curling against the floor.

I lose myself in the rhythm, the counting, the way her voice grows hoarse and needy. By the time we reach ten, she's panting, her body is quivering and I run my hand over the heated skin, fingering the raised welts I've left behind.

"Good girl." The praise falls from my lips before I can stop it. She can have my benevolence for now, it’s likely all she’ll get. "Now, let's see how wet this has made you."

I slide my hand between her thighs, finding her slick and ready.

A groan escapes me as I feel her heat, and I allow myself a moment to explore her folds, reveling in the slickness I find there.

She whimpers and tries to press back against my hand, seeking more friction.

I tsk disapprovingly and withdraw my fingers, leaving her shaking and wanting.

“I think someone’s asking for more punishment,” I snarl, unbuckling my belt with one hand while keeping her in place with the other. "You'll get what I decide to give you when I decide to give it. Nothing is yours to take."

The clink of metal and rustle of fabric seem deafening in the charged silence.

You know the best things about dreams?

Anything you need is just miraculously available, so after removing my belt and laying it across the small of her back, I get to work plugging her with the bulbous, perfectly peeled ginger root plug that’s there, working it into her wriggling ass without the benefit of lube, so she gets the full effect of the burn.

With that done, I kick her knees wider apart and snatch back my belt.

Perhaps she knows what’s coming next, because a pathetic sob is ripped from her.

If she thinks it will fall on my mercy, she’s wrong.

I devour her terror like it’s ambrosia before swinging the three-inch wide leather and swatting her hard between her legs.

The squelching slap draws a yelp from her, but it’s not enough to soothe my beast. I need more.

More pain. More depravity. More wretched debasement.

More pleasure.

For me, anyway.

I bring the belt down again and again, every strike punctuated by her cries and the wet thwack of leather against her tenderest flesh. The sound and the sight feed my frenzy, pushing me further into the abyss of my darkest desires.

Her body jerks with each impact, the ginger root shifting inside her, intensifying the burn. I can see the way her muscles clench around it, fighting the intrusion even as it craves more stimulation. The conflicting sensations must be maddening.

"Please," she sobs, her voice breaking. "Please, sir..."

I pause, my hand still raised, the belt dangling. "Please, what?" I bark, my voice hardly recognizable to my own ears. "Please stop? Or please more?"