Chapter 256 VIRGIN MAID BANGED BY BOSS 2

Chapter 256 VIRGIN MAID BANGED BY BOSS 2
The next few days passed in a strange kind of haze, and I rarely saw Damien. But anytime I saw him I couldn't ignore the ache I felt in between my legs.

I tried my best to focus on my work. I cleaned the marble floors until they shone, I even dusted every single surface in the grand library, I also polished the silverware until I could see my reflection in the spoons, and made sure Mr. Blackwood’s study was always perfect. But no matter how hard I tried to keep my mind focused on my duties, my thoughts kept drifting back to him—Damien Blackwood.

Every time he walked into a room, the air seemed to be filled with not just his cologne but his presence. He always moved with such alluring confidence, and his tall frame and broad frame were always filling the space in the room, and his deep voice was always giving short, precise instructions. He barely looked at me most of the time, but when he did, his gray eyes would linger just a second longer than necessary, and it made my stomach flutter and my cheeks grow warm, and it was something I was definitely not meant to be feeling for my boss.

On the fourth day, he called me into his study after dinner.

“Elara,” he said without looking up from his laptop. “I need you to help me organize some documents. Bring the filing boxes from the cabinet.”

“Yes, sir.”

I walked over to the tall wooden cabinet and reached for the heavy box on the top shelf. Even on my tiptoes, I couldn’t quite reach it. I stretched higher, my simple black maid uniform riding up my thighs.

Suddenly, I felt him behind me. Mr. Blackwood stepped close, his chest almost brushing my back. His arm reached up easily and pulled the box down for me. As he did, his body pressed lightly against mine for a brief moment. I could feel the heat radiating from him, and also the solid muscle under his crisp shirt.

“Here,” he said, his voice low and really close to my ear.

“Thank you, sir,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He didn’t step back right away, as expected; instead he waited for a few seconds, and we stood like that with his body nearly touching mine. His scent was so clean, woody, and expensive, and it was intoxicating to my senses. My heart was beating so fast I was sure he could hear it.

When he finally moved away, I turned around with the heavy box in my arms. My face felt hot, and I kept my eyes lowered, too shy to look at him directly.

“Put them on the desk,” he instructed.

I did as he asked, bending slightly to place the box down. As I did, I felt his gaze on me again, but this time it was fixed on the curve of my ass and the way my uniform hugged to my body. I straightened up quickly, smoothing my skirt with really shaky hands, feeling quite uncomfortable and aroused by his actions.

For the next twenty minutes, we worked side by side sorting all kinds of documents. Every time I leaned over the desk to reach for a file, I could feel him watching me. Once, when I bent down to pick up a paper that had fallen, my skirt rode up higher on my thigh, and I didn't fail to hear him inhale sharply behind me, like he was controlling himself.

“Careful, Elara,” he said, his voice lower than usual. “You wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong impression.”

I blushed deeply, aware of what he meant. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He stepped closer until he was standing right beside me. His hand brushed against mine as he took one of the folders. The contact was a brief and simple one, but it still sent a spark of electricity straight through me.

“You’re very innocent, aren’t you?” he murmured, almost to himself, but loud enough for me to hear. “It’s rare to find someone so… untouched these days.”

I didn’t know what to say. My cheeks were burning, and there was a warm, throbbing feeling growing between my legs again.

That night, after finishing my duties, I returned to my small room on the third floor. I tried to read a book to distract myself, but my mind kept wandering back to the way Mr. Blackwood had looked at me, and the way his body had felt when he stood so close to me.

I couldn’t fight it anymore. I turned off the light, lay down on my bed, and slipped my hand under my nightgown. My panties were already damp and soaked with my wetness. I pushed them aside and touched myself gently, remembering how it felt when his arm brushed against me earlier.

In my mind, it was his hand instead of mine, and a part of me wished it was real and not just my imagination. I pictured him standing behind me again in my mind, but this time his hand slid under my skirt, his fingers stroking me through my panties before pushing them aside. I pictured his deep voice whispering in my ear, “Such a good girl… so wet for your boss.”

My breathing hitched as I pressed my middle finger against my engorged clit, mimicking the firm, steady pressure of his touch. “Mmm-nnn-gh... Damien...” My head fell back against the pillow, my eyes fluttering shut as the friction sent jolts of heat straight to my core. I was so incredibly slick that my hand slid effortlessly over my folds, making soft, squelching sounds that echoed in the quiet room. “Ah... oh god, yes... just like that.”

I spread my legs wider, hooking my heels into the mattress for leverage as I slid two fingers deep inside my aching pussy. The stretch felt wonderful, but it wasn't enough; I wanted him. I began to pump my fingers in and out with a frantic, rhythmic intensity, my thumb never leaving my clit as I worked myself into a frenzy. “Ah! Ah! Damien... please... fuck... ahhh!” My moans were becoming louder, more desperate, as I arched my back, my hips bucking against my hand in an instinctive rhythm. Squelch. Swirl. Press. The sound of my own slickness was intoxicating, driving me to move even faster.

The pleasure was building like a tidal wave, a white-hot pressure centered right where I was touching myself. I could almost feel his ghost-like breath against my neck, his deep voice commanding me to come for him. “Mmm-gh! Ah! Ah! Ahhh-nnn!” I was shaking now, my internal muscles twitching and clamping down on my fingers as if they were his thick cock. I was so wet that the moisture was dripping onto the sheets, a messy reminder of how much I craved him. “I’m coming... oh god, I’m coming! Damien!”

I came with a quiet cry, my thighs shaking as waves of pleasure washed over me. I let out a long, broken moan as my body jerked, my pussy pulsing in heavy, throbbing waves against my hand. “Ahhh... ahhh... mmm-nnn-gh.” When it was over, I lay there panting, feeling guilty but strangely satisfied. If a month ago someone would have told me I've been having fantasies about my boss, here am I doing the exact same thing.