Arranged: Bound By Contract (girlxintersex)

Chapter 4

Chapter 4
Stella POV

How do you make a bed?

In my drowsy condition, I could feel my body being lifted off the hard floor and into an embrace that smelled strongly of woody spices. I sighed with contentment as I nestled up to the warm blanket.

This feels great; I could sleep here all night. My lead-like eyes opened, only to be faced by a dark, shadowy visage. "Who are you?" I inquired, half asleep.

"Go back to sleep," the voice said quietly. I cuddled deeper into the warmth as another blanket of relaxation fell over me.

"Hmm,"

My eyes could not remain open for long, and before I knew it, I was fading away.
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I emitted a cat screaming snarl as I felt the rock-like pillow pound in my skull around thrice. I wasn't counting. I knew that would eventually cause a headache.


I regret opening my eyes to stare at Matteo, who is spitefully punching the sun in my eyes. I emitted a shrill scream and ducked my head into the bed, which smelled like damp springtime wood deep in the forest.

"Get up; it's your first day as my maid."

With a muffled voice, I swore and felt the force of my morning breath strike my face. I turned over, staring at the cove-like ceiling. When I realized I was on the bed, I wrinkled my brow.

I scowled at her. She was still staring out the window. The sun shone on her skin, and I swear she looks like that one Twilight moment when the sun strikes Edward Cullen. She was gleaming.

"I enjoy sleeping on the floor."

"Well, I couldn't take your whining, so I put you on the bed."

My gaze slid down to her quadriceps. They were bulky and muscular. The way the boxer's leggings roll up to her lovely romp. Oh, God, remove Mary's wheels. It felt almost unlawful to simply stare at the back of her thighs. Look at the calves. She had flawless skin.

"Sleep on the kitchen floor so I don't have to listen to your whines next time." She shot back, icy-tempered.

"Why don't you sleep there so I won't have to hear your monstrous snore?" I replied.

I heard a succession of tsks from her lips, and she turned around to show me her rock hard cock. Oh, mercy of Bethlehem. It appears like a large formed rock, dangling sideways in the boxers.

"Get up," she abruptly stated.

"Why. I can function better with more sleep." Despite the sun blazing in, a simple sweep of the curtain remedied the problem. My eyes nearly fell out when I saw her beautiful morning face. It seemed too flawless.

There is not a single line or welt in sight. Merely her unkempt, flamboyant hair tossed about her head heedlessly. I just know how ugly I look in the face.

"I want my coffee, and I want it as soon as I shower and prepare for work."

"Outside?"

"Down the hallway."

"Are you going stay here?"

"Yes,"

"I do not want you to stay here." I bite out, not hiding my disappointment that I wouldn't have the place to myself.

"Well, you have horrible luck. Get dressed and get cracking before I have to grab a whip."

I stand up on the bed. "I am not your slave," I stated.

"You can't. It's prohibited. But you can be my maid."


"You wait until my father hears about that." I muttered as I got out of bed.

"He isn't going to anything since all he cares about is his business growing from the ground."

I scowled.

"I want the bed to spread."

"Spread it yourself," I murmured, navigating to the restroom, only for her to grasp me—not by the hair this time.

"What?" I growled, not wanting her to catch my morning breath.

"Spread the bed. Get dressed. Get my coffee to the workplace within the next 30 minutes."

"Fine," I said, pushing her arms out. And moved over to where the bed was. I was eager to brew the coffee and rub it through the dirt before pouring it into a cup.

I gazed at the bed like it was a Rubik's Cube. How does one make a bed? I returned Matteo's glance with a bewildered expression. I grew up affluent. A maid made my bed. I wasn't sure what to do initially. I buried my fingers in my hair. How can I make a darn bed?

She looked at me as if she were waiting for me to spread the bed. So she wasn't kidding? I sneered, picking up the spread and awkwardly laying it over the bed.

"Finished," I murmured, ignoring the absurdity of my actions.

"This is not how you make a bed, Stella."

"Do it yourself." I muttered, sidestepping her, and dashed into the bathroom, closing the door.