Maid for the Millionaire by jewel crotan (the reading strategies book txt) 📕

again, I would call him out on it or avoid him entirely. Two, I would be smarter with putting myself in these situations. I had a lot riding on this job, but my safety was much more important. Third... Mr. Carawell was my savior. I not only needed to show him how appreciative I was that he stepped in, but that I had learned and would be more headstrong in the future. That I was not helpless and that I was not a liability in the his staff. This, of course, all assumed he wouldn’t fire me outright. Helen's words back after I spilled the wine still stung.



Knock knock. The moment I had simultaneously been anticipating and dreading had arrived. On the other side of my bedroom door Mr. Carawell stood alone. Apparently he didn’t stop to change from dinner, still dressed in his pristine tuxedo. His eyes had the palest of rings forming beneath them. I noticed his outfit looked scuffed and ruffled. Did things get violent between him and Mr. Lockheart? The way he stood was imposing, as if getting ready to scold a pet. The mood that filled the room told me all I needed to know. He did not want to be dealing with me right now. He was probably ashamed to do so. I broke the silence. Maybe fealty would inspire mercy.

“...I’m sorry Mr. Carawell.”

He silently pointed at the bed, motioning for me to sit. I obeyed, placing my hands on my lap; my eyes solemnly pointed towards the ground. Mr. Carawell pulled up a chair and sat down directly in front of me. He let the silence hang in the air. My lungs felt like they stopped working working. It took all of my willpower to meet his scornful gaze.

“April, was it?”

I nodded slightly.

“It’s been awhile since I inquired about one of Helen’s staff. You are a recent graduate of Wesleyan in an unrelated field. Tragically unable to find a suitable position, so you took a vacancy here as temporary help. My stable boy referred you, if memory serves me correctly. How has your first week at the mansion suited you? Overwhelming, I’m sure.”

Again, I could barely muster a nod.

“You are a bit of a rarity. Most professional maids would consider this a very desirable position. Some may even consider this a dream job; top of the line for their field. When I reviewed the applications, by all means, I should have glossed you over. Little experience. No referrals, Only a recommendation from a boy who spends his days working with the horses. And yet, here you are. Serving my estate.”

Where was he going with this?

“My speciality is predicting trends, April. Seeing potential for growth. On the surface it’s profits, revenue. But it’s a gift I’ve been utilizing all my life. With friends, colleagues, relationships. I’ve found when faced with a decision, my instinct is better than any other comparison. Though that application, my instinct saw you.”

Here it comes. How his instinct was wrong this time. How he manages to slip up occasionally.

“Mr. Lockheart has chosen not to use my services.”

Brace yourself...

“April, it is my fault entirely. I went against my instinct. He should have never been here in the first place.”

An enormous weight was lifted off me in an instant. I met his gaze wearing curious eyes. If he wasn’t here to scold me, why did he need to make an appearance at all?

“I’m... I’m glad to hear that, Mr. Carawell. I was so scared I had screwed up.”

“Mr. Lockheart was an old friend of mine. From another time, before I matured. I’m sorry you were compromised, I should have acted sooner.”

Reaching out, he took his hand in mine. My mouth fell agape as the electricity danced across my fingertips.

“Mr. Carawell... Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded.

“You were really once like him? He did call you a hypocrite...”

Exaspering slightly, he let go of my hand and stared out the window. It was if his next words were the most important in the world.

“I’m not proud of where I am now, but I’m still less proud of where I was. Yes, April, I was not a nice person. I was abusive, disrespectful, terrible. I thought it all was the normalcy of this cutthroat industry. Well, I suppose it is the normalcy. As you unfortunately saw earlier this evening. These monsters think themselves untouchable."

"But what about you and your wife? Were you really like that when you met Mrs. Carawell?"

Chuckling slightly, Mr. Carawell continued.

"Scarlet is just like them. Riding the contrails of success, no matter what the vilification entails. I've been trying to free myself for years now. But alas, my career is the only thing I have time to dedicate now."

His words. They seemed so sad. In an instant my attitude towards him changed from intimidated to pity. I couldn't bear to see such a powerful man in such an intimate state of mind. Even more, I couldn't bear not to do something about it.

"Mr. Carawell... Can I ask you one more question?"

Taking his time in answering, Mr. Carawell spoke.

"Only one."

"Is there anything I can do for you? Beyond my usual duties, that is. You saved me tonight. I want to return the favor."

As the words left my mouth I placed my hand on his thigh, rubbing with the lightest of touches. This world I adopted myself into still felt foreign. I couldn't handle an expensive dinner party or clean a mansion to perfection just yet. But I could satisfy a man I was attracted to. My mind raced as he didn't back down from my advance. Sure, he was my boss, but he was also a intelligent, powerful, handsome man. Sure, he was married, but he had just confessed the relationship had been dead for years. I couldn't help myself as my hands rubbed along the fabric of his pants. Smiling gently at his bewildered face. Yet still he didn't say to stop.

Taking his silence as an invitation to proceed, my hands danced towards the front of his pants. A noticeable bulge had already begun to form. I licked my lips in anticipation. Loosening his belt, I looked up at his eyes.

"Please Victor. Let me take care of you tonight."

I felt his hand on the back of my head, caressing it lovingly. My eyes closed at the sensation of him playing with my hair. Victor was so careful and delicate, like I was a fine work of art he was taking in. Deep under my skirt I felt my womanhood grow warm with desire. The back of my mind still screamed with doubts as to if this was right. I shut that voice out immediately.

Kneeling down on the chair in front of him, my fingers still gently circled the tracing of his member. It already felt like it was growing by this lightest of touches. I looked up into his eyes, putting on the sexiest look of pleading I had in me. Mr. Carawell stayed deadpan. Was he confused? Was he conflicted? I tilted my head to the side, licking my bottom lip seductively. It worked.

Taking my hand in his, Mr. Carawell led me to his belt buckle. It came off easily enough, and with astonishing speed I had his pants around his ankles. Still keeping the deadpan expression, he stared at me diligently. As if waiting impatiently for me to initiate. I had been bold so far in this tryst, but my heart still felt like it was going to explode. Still I hid it well, smiling gently as I feed his cock from the restrictions of his underwear. There, I couldn't help but get a good look.

Mr. Carawell's penis was half-erect at this point. I was still impressed and a little frightened. It was true that I had small hands, but I could barely get my middle finger to overlap around his girth. The length wasn't too shabby either: seven, possibly eight inches. There was a scary second when I wondered if I could take all of it in my mouth. That fear quickly turned to excitement as I started pumping the shaft with my hand. It pulsated with every stroke, growing bigger and bigger until I couldn't stand it anymore. I needed Mr. Carawell's cock in my mouth. I needed to make my millionaire employer come.

Biting my lip in nervousness, I slowly lowered my head deeper between his thighs. Mr. Carawell placed his hands on my back of my head. Guiding me towards the manhood I so desperately craved. It smelled surprisingly pleasant down there; a rich musky scent that reminded me of expensive aftershave. I decided to have a little tease first. Kiss the tip of the head. Dart my tongue along the bottom run of the shaft. Look deeply into his eyes as I stroked it with my hand. Surprisingly, Mr. Carawell still looked unfazed. Prior boyfriends at this point were always frenzied, begging me for more stimulation. Like the rest of his lifestyle, was he used to something more luxurious? Still, he wasn't asking me to stop. I felt a growing desire in me to impress. To perform better than I ever had before. Nothing but the best for Mr. Carawell.

I started slow, enveloping his head entirely within my lips. I refused to move for several seconds, instead circling my tongue, making sure there wasn't a single unstimulated nerve. He placed his hand on my back of my head again. Not pushing or forcing, simply placing it gently. I took this as a good sign and increased the intensity of my work. Bobbing slightly up and down. Moaning gently as I did so. The smell of Mr. Carawell's cock was incredible, and he tasted even better. Never before in my life had I wanted to suck a penis so intently. As I continued to bob and use my tongue to explore new territory, I felt subtle signs of the effectiveness of my work. Increased breathing. Tighter muscles. An actual grip on my hair. And of course, the fact that his dick had grown rock-hard inside my mouth. To pat myself on the back, I was sucking better than I ever had in my life.  

chapter 4

There was a gentle tug on my hair. Taking his member out with a gentle pop, I moved my head back to meet his gaze. There was a tiny strand of saliva running down my chin and a happy smile on my face. Mr. Carawell gave me one simple order.

"Deeper, April. Take it all the way in."

As I glanced down at the immense member under my chin I doubted I could.

"Sir, I..."

"No words, April. Ease into it."

Emotions ran through me. Doubt, at my own abilities. Fear at his directness. Anger, at his disregard for my own feelings. What won them all was desire. Deepthroating had never been something I was good at. It was time to learn. What better time to practice than now?

"Of course, Mr. Carawell."

Looking once again at the cock I had been so diligently sucking, my perception changed. What once had