By KBC Associate 
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The mansion was always quiet at this hour, on the rare days my wife and kids were all out of the house and I slipped away for a few moments to myself. Late afternoon sunlight poured through the vast windows, casting golden patterns across the polished floors. Everything was in its perfect place—thanks to Elle.
She moved through the house with graceful efficiency, dusting, tidying, ensuring that every inch gleamed under her careful touch. It was a rhythm, a ritual. But today, something felt different. Or maybe it had been building for weeks.
I sat in my study, pretending to read, but my focus drifted. From my chair, I could see her in the reflection of the glass-fronted bookcase. Her dark uniform hugged her frame, the crisp white apron accentuating the curve of her waist. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her movements fluid, practiced.
“Sir, would you like me to bring you something?” Her voice was smooth, polite, but beneath the formality, there was something else. A knowing glance, a flicker of something unspoken.
I cleared my throat. “No, Elle. I’m fine.”
She nodded, but her gaze lingered a second too long before she turned away. I let my eyes follow her, trailing down the line of her back, the delicate sway of her hips as she moved.
The air between us had changed in the past few weeks. A shift in the way she looked at me, the way I noticed her. It had started as stolen glances, fingers brushing when she handed me my morning coffee, the way her lips parted slightly when she focused on a task. Small moments, insignificant on their own, but together they built something charged, something undeniable.
I heard the gentle click of the vacuum shutting off, the rustle of fabric as she adjusted her apron. Then, silence. I turned my head slightly, catching her watching me in the bookcase’s reflection.
“Is there something on your mind, Elle?” I asked, my voice lower than I intended.
She hesitated, then stepped closer. “I think you know, sir.”
I leaned back in my chair, taking her in fully. She stood just inside the study now, hands clasped in front of her, as if debating whether to step further.
“You’re always working,” I murmured, watching the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “Do you ever take a break?”
“Not often.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Though, sometimes I like to take time for…pleasure.”
I reached for the glass of bourbon on my desk, swirling the amber liquid before taking a slow sip. “Come here.”
She hesitated for only a moment before obeying.
When she was close enough that I could see the rise and fall of her breath, I tilted my head up to meet her eyes. “Have you been waiting for me to say that?”
A slow, knowing smile touched her lips. “Maybe.”
The tension between us was thick, the air electric. She stood before me, close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from her body. My fingers skimmed the edge of her apron, a teasing brush against the fabric.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmured, giving her an out.
She exhaled, slow and measured. “I don’t want you to.”
That was all I needed.
My hands slid up her waist, feeling the smooth fabric beneath my fingertips, tracing the shape of her. She shivered, tilting her head as I leaned in, lips hovering just above her skin.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Elle.” My breath ghosted over her jaw. “Lift up your dress.”
“Maybe I like danger,” she whispered, her voice laced with anticipation as she lifted the fabric to her waist.
I stood, closing the distance between us in a single, deliberate movement. My lips found hers, and the tension that had been simmering between us finally ignited. It wasn’t rushed—no, this was deliberate, intoxicating. She melted into me, fingers grasping at the front of my shirt, as if she had been waiting for this just as long as I had.
I fell to my knees and let my mouth enclose on the soft spot between her thighs, my tongue moving against her clit with precision as she began to moan softly, hands finding their way to my head and lacing in my hair as she struggled to steady her breathing.
The study, the house, the carefully maintained rules—all of it faded. In this moment, there was only the heat between us, the slow unraveling of restraint.
And I intended to take my time.