Maria's POV
By day, I move through the mansion like a ghost in my uniform, tending to the house and Mrs. Harrington. She calls me “dear girl” now, and tells me stories of wild nights in Paris decades ago that make heat crawl up my neck because my own nights are so much filthier.
But the second the house quiets, I belong to him. Alexander.
He catches me in the long hallway just after he comes back from a gala. One moment I’m carrying folded linens, the next my back hits the wall and his mouth is on mine, hungry, bruising. His hand shoves up under my skirt, fingers finding the lace of my panties and pushing them aside. His fingers plunge straight into my p***y without preamble, and I moan quietly, clenching around his fingers, already desperate for more. He pumps slowly and deep while hi
