The Don's Maid [18+]

10

Positivity Corner:

"Be afraid but do it anyway."

Several men were standing behind the Don.

Some of them were in conversation and some were looking at the situation I had created.

There I was, wearing a black button down shirt with nothing underneath standing before twenty men, of whom, half was looking at me with weird glances.

Some had a bad meaning of looking at me. It made me feel disgusted with myself and I shrunk a little bit down, mentally.

Well...that didn't turn out too good. My inner girl rolls her eyes at me.

"Gentlemen." The Don pronounces keeping his eyes steady at me. "We're done for tonight. You may leave."

They rush out from the smoke room leaving me alone with my fate.

We're so done! My inner girl sighs when she sees the Don take a seat on big couch that is pushed up against the wall of the red papered room.

The couch he is sat on leaves a very small gap between us. He can easily move and reach out for me.

I think of taking a step back but soon decide against it.

"Explain." The Don growls.

It's anger. And it's very bad.

"Explain?" I test the word.

I shouldn't have done that!

With a sharp wank around my wrist he pulls me to his lap, so that my stomach is pressed against his thighs and my face looking at the floor.

A gasp of surprise leaves my mouth as I stare down at red mosaic carpet beneath my body that now is completely at Don DeMarco's mercy.

I was scared. To say that it would be a lie. I was excited.

And you call me a slut, huh? My inner girl throws her sarcasm.

His warm and rough and big hand rests against my behind as he soft caresses it.

"Do you think I give empty threats, Rosaline?" He asks, his hand never leaving my butt.

"Huh?" I unable to gauge the direction of his question reply.

A hard smack lands on my behind as I give out a small shriek. "Yes or no answer, baby girl."

"N-no."

"Then why don't you listen to what I say to you, Rosaline?" He says caressing my smacked area.

I feel myself getting a knot at my stomach.

"I asked you to get dressed, didn't I?" He asks. His hand leaves contact with my skin.

I whimper mentality at the lost connection. "Yes." My voice small and needy.