Serving his desires

"You want this, don’t you?" His voice was low, rough, curling around me like smoke. I could barely breathe, my body caught between tension and desire as Lucian’s fingers traced slow, deliberate circles against my bare skin. "Answer me." My throat was dry. My heart pounded. "I… I do." His dark eyes burned into mine, filled with something dangerous, something possessive. A slow smirk tugged at his lips, and when he spoke again, it was nothing more than a whisper against my ear. "Good girl." Heat coiled in my stomach, spreading like wildfire as he pushed me back against the cold surface of his desk. His hands slid beneath my uniform, lifting the fabric inch by inch. He was teasing me, testing my patience. I shivered when his mouth grazed my collarbone, his breath hot against my skin. "Take it off." I hesitated for just a second. Then I let the dress slip down my shoulders, the fabric pooling at my feet. His gaze darkened as he took me in. A quiet hunger settled behind his eyes. The air between us crackled. I could feel his restraint slipping. "You’ve been taking care of me for weeks," he murmured, fingers skimming my bare waist. "Now it’s my turn to take care of you." Then his lips crashed against mine, and I lost myself completely. --- I never expected to end up here. All I needed was a job, something to keep me afloat while I figured out my next move. So when the agency sent me to work at Lucian Vale’s mansion, I didn’t hesitate. It was just cleaning, after all. Just another rich man’s house. I had no idea my life was about to change forever. --- Two Months Ago The agency’s office smelled like old paper and stale coffee. The waiting room was cramped, filled with other women flipping through their applications, hoping for the same thing I was. A job that paid well enough to survive. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, gripping my bag as I waited for my turn. “Mara Evans?” a voice called. I stood quickly, smoothing my skirt before following the woman into her office. She was middle-aged, with sharp eyes that flicked over my résumé. "Twenty-two years old," she said, and I nodded. “You’ve done housework before?” I nodded. “Yes, mostly small jobs. I’m good at cleaning, organizing.” “Do you mind working for high-profile clients?” she interrupted. I hesitated. “No, I don’t mind.” She exhaled, tapping a pen against the desk. “This is a live-in position. The pay is excellent, but the employer is... particular. You’ll be expected to be discreet, professional, and hardworking. Do you think you can handle that?” A live-in job. It wasn’t ideal, but I had no family to go home to. I was an orphan. My parents, the only people I had, died a year ago in a car accident. I was alone in this world. “Yes,” I said firmly. She studied me for a moment before nodding. “You start tomorrow.” --- The mansion was bigger than anything I had ever seen. It loomed behind massive wrought-iron gates, the stone façade cold and elegant. The car pulled up to the front entrance, and my stomach twisted as I stepped out, gripping my small suitcase. A man in a crisp black suit greeted me at the door. He barely spared me a glance as he led me inside. “You’ll receive your schedule daily,” he said briskly. “Follow the rules, do your job well, and there won’t be any issues.” I nodded, my gaze sweeping over the grand interior. Polished floors, chandeliers, expensive art. Everything screamed wealth and power. And then I saw him. Lucian Vale. He stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in an expensive suit, a glass of whiskey in hand. Tall. Cold. Commanding. His sharp gaze flickered down to me, unreadable, and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. He looked like he was in his late thirties or early forties. This was the man I was going to work for. The man I would eventually let ruin me. Lucian Vale. I had heard his name before. Whispers of his wealth, his influence, the kind of power that made men fear him. But no one ever mentioned how devastatingly cold he looked. He didn’t say a word as he watched me from the top of the stairs, his sharp, piercing gaze sweeping over me with an unreadable expression. Something about the way he stood there, his fingers loosely gripping the whiskey glass, made my skin prickle. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away. The butler cleared his throat. “Your room is in the east wing. Follow me.” I tore my gaze from Lucian and quickly followed, the air feeling thick around me. Even as I walked away, I could feel him watching. --- My quarters were small but elegant. Polished wooden floors, a neatly made bed, a wardrobe that looked too expensive for a maid’s uniform. I set my suitcase down, trying to calm the uneasy feeling in my chest. I wasn’t here for anything but work. I just had to keep my head down and do my job. Still, something about this house felt heavy. As I unpacked, the sounds of raised voices echoed faintly down the hall. I hesitated, straining to listen. "...I can’t do this anymore, Lucian!" A woman’s voice, sharp and angry. "Then don’t," he replied. His tone was flat, almost bored. Silence stretched before the woman scoffed. "You’re impossible." "Respect yourself," he said sternly. Footsteps stormed away, and then a door slammed. I exhaled slowly, my fingers tightening around a blouse I had been folding. So the rumors were true. Lucian Vale and his wife were on the verge of divorce. Maybe I should have ignored it. Maybe I should have focused on my work and never paid attention to him. But it was impossible not to notice him. And soon, he would start noticing me too.