
MY VIRGIN MAID
He hired a maid.
What he got was a virgin.
Now, he wants to ruin her-softly, slowly, completely.
Eighteen and untouched, Christina never imagined her first job would land her in the mansion of a dangerously powerful billionaire.
Bryce Alistair doesn't ask. He commands.
And now, the innocent little maid is learning what it means to obey-one moan, one punishment, one wicked whisper at a time.
Dark. Erotic. Addictive.
She thought she was just cleaning his house.
She didn't know she was walking into his cage.
Christina is eighteen, broke, and desperate.
Her first job lands her in the mansion of Bryce Alistair-a cold billionaire with eyes that strip her bare. He's older, richer, and terrifyingly magnetic. She tries to keep her distance, but her innocence draws him in like a flame.
He doesn't want love. He wants obedience.
And she's about to learn what it means to kneel.
As their dangerous relationship deepens, lines blur between pain and pleasure, punishment and reward, fear, and yearning. But behind his sharp commands hides a man darker than she imagined-and she's about to discover that taming the virgin maid isn't just about breaking her body...
It's about owning her completely
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Chapter 5
Bryce stepped into his bedroom, ready to rip off the weight of the day - only to stop cold in the doorway.
Naked.
Bella Stark lay across his bed like a temptation designed to piss him off. The only thing covering her bare skin was the light fleece blanket he'd tossed there that morning - and even that barely clung to her hips. One leg was exposed, smooth and pale against the dark gray sheets. Her red hair spilled like wine over his pillows.
His jaw clenched.
"Get the hell off my bed," he said coldly.
Bella didn't move.
Instead, she stretched - slowly, deliberately - the blanket slipping even lower. Her bare breasts rose with her inhale, and the corner of her mouth curled into that half-smile she always wore when she was testing him.
"Nice to see you too, Bryce," she purred.
He stepped further inside, the door clicking shut behind him.
"You know the rule."
Her eyes flicked toward him - lazy, amused, challenging. "I'm not just anyone. And this blanket is yours. Technically, I'm covered."
His voice was razor sharp. "You're pushing it."
"I've been pushing it for years." She sat up now, blanket sliding to her lap, revealing every inch of her torso. "Besides, I missed you."
"You could've said that with your clothes on."
"But that's not what you respond to." Her voice softened. "And I'm tired of being on your floors and sofas, Bryce. I'm not one of your interchangeable bodies."
He stared at her - unmoving, unreadable - for a long moment.
She wasn't wrong.
Bella Stark was different.
They'd known each other long before his empire had exploded. Before the women, the mansion, the obsession with silence and control. She'd been there during the storm. And sometimes, when the darkness felt too thick, she was the only one he let stay.
Still...
His bed was off limits.
It always had been.
And yet... he didn't throw her out.
---
Bella shifted onto her knees, the blanket falling completely now. She was fully naked in front of him, and still... she wasn't begging.
She was demanding.
"Do you even remember the last time you let yourself feel something?" she asked. "Because I'm right here. And I'm not asking for permission anymore."
He exhaled through his nose, eyes dark. "This doesn't end well."
"Then don't end it." She crawled to the edge of the bed, voice dropping to a whisper. "Just fuck me till I can't walk."
He should've turned around. Should've left. Should've reminded her that his bed was sacred. That it wasn't about sex. It was about control. Rules. Boundaries.
But the truth?
His control had been slipping ever since Christina Lane stepped into his mansion.
The girl with the quiet eyes and the sinful curves she didn't know she had. The girl who cooked like a dream, spoke like an angel, and walked around his house completely unaware she was being watched.
He thought of her now - probably asleep in her small room, curled in innocent comfort.
And yet here he was...
Staring at Bella. Naked. On his bed.
His oldest vice.
And without another word, Bryce stepped forward, grabbed her by the waist, and shoved her flat onto the mattress.
---
She gasped, breathless, as his body pinned her beneath him.
His mouth found her neck - not sweet, not slow - but hard, hungry. Her fingers clawed at his shirt, ripping it halfway open as he pressed himself between her thighs.
"You think you know me?" he growled against her skin.
"I do," she breathed. "I've always known you."
"Then shut up and take it."
He kissed her again, biting down this time. Her moan echoed through the walls.
---
For the next hour, the room was nothing but heat and noise.
Bryce didn't stop.
Didn't soften.
He took her like a storm - hand around her throat, breath hot against her ear, her legs wrapped around his hips like chains. Every thrust was punishment. Every movement reminded her that she wasn't in control. That she had touched something forbidden, and now she had to pay for it.
And she loved every second.
---
Afterward, the silence settled again.
Bella lay sprawled, bruised and glowing, breath still shaky.
Bryce stood at the foot of the bed, now half-dressed again, already putting distance between them.
She watched him.
"I thought you'd stay," she said softly.
He didn't answer.
"You let me in," she added. "Into this bed. You never do that."
Still nothing.
But his jaw tightened.
Finally, he said, "Don't confuse the moment with meaning."
Her heart stung. But she hid it with a smirk.
"I'll pretend that didn't sound like regret."
He didn't look at her as he left the room.
---
Outside the bedroom, Bryce leaned against the hallway wall.
His breath was even. His heart was not.
He'd fucked Bella to forget Christina.
But it hadn't worked.
Because even as Bella moaned under him, all he could see was that sweet, shy maid bending over in his kitchen.
He cursed under his breath.
Then headed to the security monitor room - just to make sure Christina was asleep.
Just to be sure.
Just to see her one more time.