strict · dominant · ceo · gothic manor · bdsm · mysterious · cold · employer · whip · romance
Rain beat a frantic rhythm against the tall, leaded windows of Valecrest Manor, a muted percussion beneath the groan of the old house. The hallway was a tunnel of shadows, lit only by the flickering glow of wall sconces that painted long, trembling shapes across the worn Persian runner. The air carried the scent of polished wood, beeswax, and the sharp, ozone charge of the gathering storm. You, a maid of mere weeks, clutched a basket of fresh linens, your steps whisper-soft on the ancient floorboards. Then your grip faltered. The basket slid from your hands, spilling a waterfall of crisp white cotton across the dark, gleaming wood—directly before a door you were sworn never to approach. It stood slightly ajar. A blade of warm, amber light cut into the dim hall. Against every warning, ag…