Eden's POV The woman shrieks, drawing the attention of most of the guests around her. She stares in horror at her silver dress, the wine splattered all over it and spreading like a dark blotch across her chest. It's even dripping down her neck. I'm so dead! “I'm so sorry! I'm really sorry!” I apologize the moment I'm out of my dazed state. How could I have been so clumsy? What's with me and spilling drinks for heaven's sake?! The woman sends me a nasty glare so hot it could melt steel and reduce me to ashes. “You stupid klutz!” I don't stop apologizing. “Please forgive me, it was a mistake. I really didn't mean to—” “Shut up!” she snarls and stares down at her dress one more time. “You ruined my dress, ugh! You will pay for this!” Sir Oliver just stands still, observing the scene. I'm silently praying that he intervenes. I look at him with desperate, pleading eyes, my face scrunched in fear. But he's stoic, his expression remains unreadable and he doesn't utter a single word.
Eden’s POV Sir Oliver’s smirk widens and he kisses me, pressing his sweet lips on mine. I purr against his lips and kiss him with just as much fervour. He cups my face harder and darts his tongue into my mouth, parting my mouth wider and giving him access to suck on my tongue. He brings one hand to my hip, drawing slow patterns from there up my boobs. His hand swallows one of my breasts and fondles it underneath my shirt. I feel a storm blowing inside of me when he somehow slips it inside my shirt, his hand coming in contact with my supple boobs. My nipple becomes swollen from his touch and he tweaks it and wrings it, our faces still stuffed in each other’s. Sir Oliver guides me to the bench as the kiss becomes fiercer and sits us down on it. His cologne wafts into my nostrils, so manly and so inviting. The more he kisses me and touches me, the more I melt for him. All my resolve has turned to dust, blowing away with the night’s chilly air. There wasn’t much of it anyway. I’ve be
Eden's POV Sir Oliver lies on top of me and takes my mouth in his. He presses his groin against my mound and I feel the enormous hard organ pulsing in his pants. He presses it to my naked mound, nudging it against my slit. The feeling of his hidden rod on me whelms me with a strong craving in my stomach. I hold him tightly when he starts grinding it against me. My body is electrified. The craving intensifies and transforms into a raw need to have him make love to me. He lowers his head to my crotch and spreads my legs. His tongue goes right into my soaking wet puss. My hips buck and I shudder as his flattened tongue licks my jewel, from my throbbing pink hole, across my gaping butthole and slaps my swollen clit. Sir Oliver ravishes my honeypot and as he does, I feel stings from his teeth grazing my clit. The little prickles coupled with the delicious sensation he’s sending to my love glove makes me tremble uncontrollably. It drives me to my peak and I feel my stomach twist and my
Eden's POV “What do you want?” Sir Oliver's question echoes in my ear over and over again. I look at him, confused. And he's staring at me dead in the eye, no ounce of warmth on his face. I don't understand. Why is he acting so cold to me all of a sudden? What could I have done for him to start treating me this way out of the blue? I swallow before opening my mouth to respond. “I—” “Oliver darling, come back to bed.” A woman's voice booms from inside his bedroom. My jaw falls loose, my mouth opening wide and my heart ceases to beat for a moment. If he's with that woman so early in the morning then it means she spent the night in his bedroom. How could he do this to me after what's happened between us? “I asked you a question, Eden,” Sir Oliver snaps, his hand tightening around his doorknob. “What are you doing here?” “I came... to see you.” I fight off the tremor in my voice and try to speak firmly. But it's no use. Not when my heart is being shredded to pieces. And not while
Eden’s POV Being a waitress sucks! But you know what sucks more? My entire life! Picture a 21-year-old girl donned in a worn-out yellow apron with tiny cartoon coffee cups printed all over it; an apron that has seen more stains than a toddler’s onesie and could double as a parachute in an emergency. And my uniform, well, let’s just say it has seen better days. It’s a faded black polo shirt with a pen sticking out of one pocket and a notepad wedged in the other. My jeans are faded too but at least they’re comfy. And my shoes are crying for mercy. Every day, I float around the greasy diner like a servant girl in a Disney movie, taking orders, serving food, sweeping up crumbs and wiping tables until my hands go numb. Sometimes even my brain goes numb. I hate this job. Compared to the things I have to put up with here, this job doesn’t really pay that much. But what can I do? Someone has got to pay the bills and that someone happens to be just me. I have to make-do with whatever lit
Eden's POV Can my life get any worse? Why did I have to get fired? I ask myself, wiping the tear that's sliding down my cheek. I trudge home, clutching my purse and sobbing as I think about how I'm going to get another job. I really need money and hence, I had to put up with so much at the diner. I didn't care about how greasy the floors were, or how the smell of stale coffee clung to my uniform the whole day, or even how the customers treated me like dirt. I didn't care about how the toilets always seemed to be clogged, or how the trash cans were always overflowing, or even how the kitchen sink was usually filled with greasy water. Even when the kitchen was infested with rats and cockroaches, I kept my mouth shut because I wanted to keep my job. The customers' irritating and nagging attitudes didn't seem to hold me back even when they bothered me. And neither did my former boss' grumpiness. That man hates me and I have no idea why. It's not like I ever did anything wrong to him.
Eden's POV I can't believe it! I've been offered a job at the Calloway mansion! This feels like a dream come true! Three months ago, while I was still working at the diner, I heard about an opening for a maid. Actually, I saw it in the newspaper a customer was reading. Even though I felt like I was unqualified and inexperienced for the job, I still decided to give it a try. And I'm so glad I did. I've never worked as a maid before and I've never worked for such rich people before. The Calloways are the richest family in New York. I've heard their mansion is like something out of a fairytale, that their doors are made of gold and their staircases spiral into the sky. I've also heard that their chandeliers are made of diamonds and that their garden alone is as large as a football stadium. I don't know how true any of that is but the craziest thing I've heard about the Calloways is that they can buy the whole city if they wanted to. How crazy is that? And now, I’m going to work f
Eden's POV He wants to see me? Why does he want to see me? Well, I know why but... Why? Does he want to scold me for walking in on him naked? Or does he want to fire me? Wait, can he fire me? Oh God! My mind is a mountain of questions right now and my heart is beating fast. I don't want to lose my job, especially not on my very first day. That'll only prove that I'm the loser my dad says I am. This is a disaster. Everything is a disaster. I can't stop cursing myself right now. Why the hell did I waltz into his bathroom like that? Couldn't I at least have knocked first before entering? But then again, there was no way I could've known that he was inside. The bedroom was practically empty and I didn't hear a sound coming from the bathroom. Is it possible that the bathroom is soundproof? It doesn't matter now anyway. I'm in big trouble and that's what I have to worry about. I've only been working here for a few hours and I've already seen him naked. I can't believe it! I just hope t
Eden's POV “What do you want?” Sir Oliver's question echoes in my ear over and over again. I look at him, confused. And he's staring at me dead in the eye, no ounce of warmth on his face. I don't understand. Why is he acting so cold to me all of a sudden? What could I have done for him to start treating me this way out of the blue? I swallow before opening my mouth to respond. “I—” “Oliver darling, come back to bed.” A woman's voice booms from inside his bedroom. My jaw falls loose, my mouth opening wide and my heart ceases to beat for a moment. If he's with that woman so early in the morning then it means she spent the night in his bedroom. How could he do this to me after what's happened between us? “I asked you a question, Eden,” Sir Oliver snaps, his hand tightening around his doorknob. “What are you doing here?” “I came... to see you.” I fight off the tremor in my voice and try to speak firmly. But it's no use. Not when my heart is being shredded to pieces. And not while
Eden's POV Sir Oliver lies on top of me and takes my mouth in his. He presses his groin against my mound and I feel the enormous hard organ pulsing in his pants. He presses it to my naked mound, nudging it against my slit. The feeling of his hidden rod on me whelms me with a strong craving in my stomach. I hold him tightly when he starts grinding it against me. My body is electrified. The craving intensifies and transforms into a raw need to have him make love to me. He lowers his head to my crotch and spreads my legs. His tongue goes right into my soaking wet puss. My hips buck and I shudder as his flattened tongue licks my jewel, from my throbbing pink hole, across my gaping butthole and slaps my swollen clit. Sir Oliver ravishes my honeypot and as he does, I feel stings from his teeth grazing my clit. The little prickles coupled with the delicious sensation he’s sending to my love glove makes me tremble uncontrollably. It drives me to my peak and I feel my stomach twist and my
Eden’s POV Sir Oliver’s smirk widens and he kisses me, pressing his sweet lips on mine. I purr against his lips and kiss him with just as much fervour. He cups my face harder and darts his tongue into my mouth, parting my mouth wider and giving him access to suck on my tongue. He brings one hand to my hip, drawing slow patterns from there up my boobs. His hand swallows one of my breasts and fondles it underneath my shirt. I feel a storm blowing inside of me when he somehow slips it inside my shirt, his hand coming in contact with my supple boobs. My nipple becomes swollen from his touch and he tweaks it and wrings it, our faces still stuffed in each other’s. Sir Oliver guides me to the bench as the kiss becomes fiercer and sits us down on it. His cologne wafts into my nostrils, so manly and so inviting. The more he kisses me and touches me, the more I melt for him. All my resolve has turned to dust, blowing away with the night’s chilly air. There wasn’t much of it anyway. I’ve be
Eden's POV The woman shrieks, drawing the attention of most of the guests around her. She stares in horror at her silver dress, the wine splattered all over it and spreading like a dark blotch across her chest. It's even dripping down her neck. I'm so dead! “I'm so sorry! I'm really sorry!” I apologize the moment I'm out of my dazed state. How could I have been so clumsy? What's with me and spilling drinks for heaven's sake?! The woman sends me a nasty glare so hot it could melt steel and reduce me to ashes. “You stupid klutz!” I don't stop apologizing. “Please forgive me, it was a mistake. I really didn't mean to—” “Shut up!” she snarls and stares down at her dress one more time. “You ruined my dress, ugh! You will pay for this!” Sir Oliver just stands still, observing the scene. I'm silently praying that he intervenes. I look at him with desperate, pleading eyes, my face scrunched in fear. But he's stoic, his expression remains unreadable and he doesn't utter a single word.
Eden's POV One week later... The long-awaited party finally arrives. The Calloway mansion is packed to the brim with wealthy folks—socialites, business tycoons and high-class people in suits and dresses. I've never seen so many designer gowns and suits in my life! It looks like the whole city's wealthy elite is crammed into the huge living room, chatting, drinking, clinking glasses and eating. Diamond necklaces, big hair and snobby smiles galore! The decorations are insane. The whole place is practically lit up like a Christmas tree, with golden lamps, glass sculptures and flower arrangements everywhere. Even the air smells expensive, if that's even a thing. It smells like money. This is my first time seeing such a fancy party and I have to say it's very sophisticated. I shake my head and resume working, weaving through the crowd. I'm supposed to be helping the waitstaff serve appetizers and clear tables, not gawking at the rich people. Still, it’s hard not to stare at all the
Eden's POV I swallow hard and clasp my hands together, fidgeting with my fingers. Ma'am Pearla's face is masked with anger and disappointment. I just know that I'm finished. My time here is done. I only wish I could've stayed longer. "Eden, what is the meaning of this?!" she thunders. I shut my eyes as my heart thumps, expecting to hear “You're fired” or something of that sort. But it doesn't come. At least not yet. And then Ma'am Pearla points down to the marble floor, making my gaze follow in that direction. “Look at the floor! You were supposed to polish it yesterday but it's still streaked and dull!” I'm stunned. It's like I forget how to speak. Is this why she sent for me? I don't understand. “There's a party happening in one week. Do you know how many guests we have coming?! I expect everything to be sparkling clean at all times, Eden! So why is my floor still looking like someone took a dump on it?!” I blink rapidly like an idiot and then stutter, “I... I'm sorry, Ma'am
Eden’s POV I don’t know where the strength to push Sir Oliver off me came from because I feel wobbly and immobilized from what he’s been doing to me. But I push him off me and get down from the counter. My heart is pounding so hard. I back away from Sir Oliver, cursing myself inwardly. In frantic movements, I pick up my shorts and hastily slip them on before someone else walks in. I'm almost certain someone must have heard Mrs Calloway's scream. Oh, I'm screwed! Mrs Calloway takes a step forward to meet Sir Oliver. Even with the dim lights on, I can tell her face is glowing red. “What do you think you're doing with my d—?” She pauses, realizing her slipup and says with just about the same rage in her voice, “What do you think you're doing here with this girl?! This servant!” Servant. Right. That's all I am to her. Sir Oliver moves to her, no sign of worry on his face. “It's none of your business. You should be in bed with your husband.” She scoffs and scowls harder. “It is my
Eden's POV Sir Oliver effortlessly reaches for the lavender oil and takes it down. He drops it on the counter but doesn't peel his body away from mine. We're practically fused together, his chest pushing against my back. He holds my messy hair in a handful and pushes it over my shoulder, baring one side of my neck to him. He nuzzles my neck, his hot breath tickling my skin. I squirm and almost fall down, my legs turning to jelly. But Sir Oliver throws one arm around my waist, pinning me against him. He plants a soft kiss on my neck and I suck in a harsh breath. He gives me a flurry of kisses there, nibbling at my flesh at intervals and mumbling against my skin. “Sir Oliver...,” I whimper, tilting my head to grant him more access. He greedily takes it, sucking my skin with a hunger that's scary. While one arm is hooked around my waist, his free hand is now getting occupied, cupping my breasts one after the other. “Sir Oliver,” I moan softly, my body tingling and burning. “Someone
Eden's POV “What are those on your neck?” Nancy's sharp voice puts a stop to my daydreaming. That's right. I'm in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and dreaming about Sir Oliver. I can't stop thinking about his tongue work from last night. Oh, how that warm muscle did wonders on my clit. “Eden, can you hear me? What are those?” She points at my neck, one of her eyebrows lifted up. “Huh?” is all I say in response. I bring my hand to my neck, feeling my skin. “I don't know. Is there something on my neck?” Nancy steps away from the shining copper pot of buttery lobster risotto cooking on the stove, her stare as cutting as the chef's knife I’m using to dice fresh herbs. The chef asked us to assist her with the breakfast while she made use of the restroom or whatever it is she said. I wasn't really paying attention. Nancy marches up to me and tilts my chin upwards with a sharp jab of her pointer finger. Her forehead creases, her mouth parts wide open. She looks at my face, looks at m