Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
I know you don’t know me. I’m the lowly maid who comes into your chamber every morning with my bucket and mop in tow. You’re busy, and I’m well … invisible.
But this morning was different.
I saw you naked.
That hard, bronzed body.
The thick chest made of impenetrable marble.
And your tool … the one swinging between your thighs, hanging all the way to your knee!
But you weren’t embarrassed at all. In fact, you crooked one finger at me and purred, “Here, kitty, kitty.”
Now what’s a girl to do when she’s summoned like that?
But now, your throne is in jeopardy and it’s time for me to make my exit.
The question is … am I just a playmate to you? Or could I be someone more?
Love,
Kitty (the girl with the mop)
Hey Readers – Have you ever had an infatuation so fierce that it consumes you from the inside out? Well, that’s how our heroine finds herself after tangling with Prince Eric because he’s no regular playboy. Eric is a member of the royal family and he ravishes women before discarding them once he’s done. But will Kitty be able to change his ways? Read and find out! You’ll love the story, I promise. Xoxo, Cassie
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
Kitty
Oh my God, there he is again. My heart throbs as I watch Prince Eric race down the palace driveway in a black sports car. I’m not usually impressed by wealth, but something about the way he handles that vehicle makes my body go insane.
I bite my lip as naughty thoughts run through my mind: fantasies of his hands stroking me like he does the soft leather of the steering wheel. Then a visualization of our bodies colliding on a fluffy feather bed as he pushes me down. My cry of surprise rising in the air as he takes his shaft out, making my eyes pop open with shock, hunger, and …
Oh my god, what am I doing? I flap my hand in front of my face, trying to create a breeze before my sweaty visage. I know I shouldn’t be fantasizing about our prince’s toolbox, but I can’t help myself because Eric’s the sexiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. He’s known as the Playboy Prince around town, and the first time I saw him in person proved those words right.
It's embarrassing, really. I’d been cleaning one of the bathrooms on the second level of the castle when I heard a big splash from outside. Out of curiosity, I moved the delicate satin curtain to the side and peered out of the window. Sure enough, it was Eric washing his Maserati. Of course, there are a million servants to do the task for him, but he likes taking care of his baby himself.
But as usual, the prince looked like an Olympic athlete. His bronzed, muscular body glistened in the sunlight as rivulets of sweat trickled down that carved chest. His thighs were heavy and broad, and the tight breeches couldn’t disguise the enormous package within. My heart raced as I stared at that bulge, wondering what it would be like for a woman to take it. Would I be able to stretch? Would he have to work it in slow? Maybe even pin me down in order to ease that massive size inside?
My thoughts were so naughty, and yet I couldn’t stop them. My thighs clenched together with need even as my panties soaked themselves. I gazed at the handsome prince, wishing he would run up the palace stairs to find me where I stood, before pinning me against the wall and thrusting his massive rod into my willing form.
But who am I kidding? I’m a lowly maid at the palace, and no one ever notices me. Even the head housekeeper barely recognizes me some days, and I’ve worked here a while now. Mary will stare at me with a squint sometimes, as if trying to place me in her mind. Then, the middle-aged woman rolls her eyes and says, “Oh yes. You again.”
That about sums up my importance in this place. But what am I going to do? I’m a lowly chambermaid, and we’re taught to stay out of sight. We scuttle like mice through the nooks and crannies of the castle, always with a mop, a bucket, or serving plate in hand.
As you can see, my chances of interacting with the handsome prince are about zero to nil. In fact, as I stared out of the window, footsteps approached and of course, it wasn’t the heir to the Chromian throne coming to fulfill my fantasies. Instead, it was Mary herself with a new task at hand. I’m sure I looked flushed and restless, but she barely noticed. The older woman merely announced that there’d been an “accident” in one of the bottom floor privies, and I was to clean it up. Eeew. Gross. That put me back in my place in a flash.
But ever since that day (or really, ever since I came to work at the palace), I just can’t stop thinking about Prince Eric. He’s on my mind even when I’m not mopping, dusting, or scouring. Every time I catch a glimpse of him is like a little slice of Heaven, although I’ve only ever seen him from a distance, of course. Obviously, the handsome man’s never noticed me, and why would he? I’m just one of the hundreds of maids who serve in the Chromian palace. We probably look all the same to him.
Ugh. I feel so silly for wanting someone who doesn’t even know I exist, but when Prince Eric around, it’s like time slows down. My pounding heart drowns out every sound around me, and I lose control over all of my senses. I’d give anything to be held in his strong arms as our lips touch in a passionate kiss, but I know that will never happen. It’s just a pipe dream, and I need to stay real.
“How are you making out over there?” Aunt Nellie calls out to me. My aunt is the one who got me this job, and she’s busy dusting a bookshelf on the far end of the sitting room. Luckily, her back is turned, so she didn’t notice me daydreaming. After all, she’d die if she knew what I was thinking. Don’t get me wrong: my aunt’s a kindly and sweet older lady, but I think even she would chastise me for making eyes at the Prince of Chromia. After all, we’re just commoners. Even worse, I’m literally a maid who scrubs toilets. I’d be lucky to marry a blacksmith, or maybe a middle-class merchant if I get super-fortunate.