Cecilia is in a lot of debt and needs a bright and shiny hero to rescue her from shockingly high APRs.
Victor is an introverted venture capitalist darling in need of a devoted (and kinky) maid.
During a chance encounter Cecilia and Victor come to a mutually beneficial understanding involving spankings, corner-time, and an outlet for their lusty cravings while finding love along the way...
“That was absolutely the wrongest thing you could have done.” Victor’s hand swallowed her arm, fingers locked tight and punishing to the extreme.
Cecilia stumbled over her feet as he marched her through the house, up the stairs, and into the corner of his bedroom.
“Hey, just what do you think you’re doing, Victor?”
“While you’re in that uniform you do not refer to me by my first name. Do it again and I won’t just use my hand on your ass next time.” Victor shoved her into the corner, gripped her head and pushed it until her nose touched the wall. “You also sure as hell don’t throw my lunch at me either.”
Despite her smarting bottom, Cecilia carried out her self-destructive tendencies by letting out an unrepentant giggle. She wondered if chili was still stuck to his cheek. “You deserved it for calling me an idiot.”
“I did not call you an idiot. I said your actions were idiotic. There’s a difference.”
Victor crowded her without touching her body. “Apologize.”
Cecilia shivered as his whisper tickled her ear. “I shouldn’t have to. You have no right to criticize me. I didn’t rack up all my debt thinking it was going to lead me to this. We can’t all be perfect like you.”
She crossed her arms, mutinous and unmoving. “Fine. I’m sorry for throwing a tray of food at you.”
“Liar.” Victor blew out an angry breath. “You will be sorry by the time I’m through with you, sweetheart. I can promise you that. Spread your legs!” He slapped her inner thighs, terrorizing the tender skin with his harsh, whip-like smacks. “Wider!”
Cecilia clenched her fists, body enjoying his roughness while ego railed against his manhandling. “Stop that!”
“Did you or did you not agree to be my devoted maid? Did you or did you not agree to obey me completely? Did you or did you not agree to allow me to punish you as I see fit? Did you or did you not agree to let me help you?”
The questions assaulted her ears, pointed and suggesting she was someone unworthy of keeping her word.
He spun her around and slammed her against the wall. “When this uniform is on you do not have the right to call me by name. I am ‘Sir.’ Am I making myself clear?”
Cecilia’s heart dropped low her in her belly before slamming back up into her throat. His green gaze, once so pretty in its kindness, gleamed raw with palpable power. It effortlessly sliced through her defiance, demanding her complete submission.
And she wanted to give it to him.
Oh, my God. What is happening to me?