She walked slowly down the marble h

She walked slowly down the marble hallway of the mansion, her heels clicking on the tiles. The sounds of her shoes echoed in the quiet, empty corridor. The darkness swirled around her, mixing with the gentle lights emanating from the stars in the midnight sky.

She was silent; stiffly she stalked down the hallway, her emerald eyes glowing. With every step, her blonde hair bounced around her and the frills of her skirt flowed around her thighs. Upon finally reaching the room she was looking for, she straightened her back and set her hand on the brass doorknob.

Slowly, she twirled the knob to the right, opening the door. Taking baby steps, she entered, as silently as possible. The room was pitch black, save the light of the twinkling stars coming from the bay window.

She strolled over to the center of the room, where the crib was sitting. She peeked in, seeing her young master rustling awake from a deep sleep. She couldn't help but let a small smile twitch at her lips from seeing the innocent baby boy.

Tears began forming in his eyes, and his little hands went up to scratch his mop of bright green hair. Smiling, she extended her arms and slid her hands under the boy, picking him up and cradling him against her chest. She rocked him back and forth in her arms, attempting to calm him down.

"There, there," she cooed, gently running her gloved hand through his hair. Immediately, he calmed down, snuggling against her. She continued rocking him as she lifted a bottle of warm milk to his mouth. His chubby fingers wrapped around the bottle as he drank from it. Swaying back and forth, she let the baby take hold of the bottle.

The milk was all gone; she gently tugged the bottle from his fingers and clutched it in her hands. The baby's green orbs were droopy and drowsy with sleep. She kept rocking him back and forth, and after sometime, he fell asleep. Her smile grew a little wider as her lips brushed against his forehead.

She set him back down on the blankets in the crib, quietly whispering, "Good night, Master." After ruffling his hair one more time, she finally succeeded in walking away, looking back to glance at the sleeping baby every second. She loved that baby more than herself.

She walked back down the hallway from where she came from. Her heels continued to make loud noises on the tile; the hall still was dark, and the light from the stars was dimming. Her steps were slow, very slow. As her designated room drew closer and closer, her heart's beating became wilder, louder. Her breathing became deep and erratic; her palms started sweating. A dark blush crept on her face as she looked up at the grandfather clock sitting against the hall's wall.

It was midnight.

Her steps became a little faster; she knew he would be angry if she was late. He wanted her there with him at midnight. No later, no earlier. She took in a deep breath as she reached her destination.

Slowly and ever so quietly, she pushed the door of the room open, her hand trembling. Darkness greeted her as she entered the room. She snuck a quick glance back at the clock. It was three minutes after midnight. She tried swallowing away the lump that formed in her throat.

The moon's light shown through the window, the rays slithering on the floor like snakes, brightening the eerie room. No one was in her sights; she thought the bedroom was empty. Reluctantly, she began turning around to walk out of the room.

"You're late." The voice stopped her in her tracks. She was motionless, almost posing as a statue. The sound of footsteps came to her ears. She heard them getting closer and closer, but she couldn't see them. She jerked her head towards the footsteps.

"I apologize, Master," she murmured quickly, bowing her head.

"So formal," the voice muttered. The footsteps came closer and closer, and they stopped right in front of her. Immediately, she cocked her head up, her emerald pools moving to swim with the dark, onyx irises of her master.

"I'm supposed to be formal, aren't I?" she pointed out, her eyebrows furrowing. "I'm your maid." A scowl made its way on her master's face.

"You're not only that, Hilda," he retorted softly, his expression serious, his eyebrows furrowed. He stuffed his hands into his silk suit's pockets. His tan face glowed in the subtle light of the moon, the light bouncing off him like tennis balls.

"Master Tatsumi," Hilda stated firmly, her head hanging low, "Would you like me to ready your pajamas for bed?" Tatsumi Oga shook his head, his dark brown locks swiveling around.

"No," he declared, his eyes becoming distant. "Have you put my son to sleep?" Hilda nodded. "Good." He took a step closer, his chest grazing lightly against hers. As a reflex, she took a step back.

"Master," Hilda mumbled, suddenly feeling uncomfortably close. He took his hand out of his pocket and brought it to gently cup her cheek.

"You're still scared," he said softly, a hard scowl carving his face. It wasn't a question. She nodded slightly. "Why?" She moved her head back, away from his touch. It seemed as if his fingertips brought electric shocks to travel through the entirety of her body.

"Have you forgotten the fact that I am your maid?" Hilda sneered, averting her gaze to stare at the floor beneath her. Tatsumi took another step closer.

"No, I haven't," he sighed gently. "But I'd like to forget." He brought his fingers to lightly grip her chin; he tilted it upwards, his eyes melting into hers.

"You're so out of character," Hilda scolded half-heartedly, the blush on her face growing, her eyebrows still furrowed. Tatsumi frowned.

"And you're so annoying," he snarled. Hilda's lips twirled upwards slightly as his face came closer to hers, the distance between them shrinking.

"That's more like you." With that, their lips met, their eyes sliding closed simultaneously. Her gloved hands slowly snaked around his neck; his hands slid around her waist slowly. Their chests were pressed together; she was scared he could feel her heart's eccentric beating.

Their lips melded together, dancing with each other in perfect sync. She could still feel the light blush that crept on her face. She felt the heat emanating from his body surround her, engulf her; his sweet scent consumed her, enveloped her, and brought her to heaven.

This man was her heaven.

Their lips caressed each other, their tongues eventually being mixed into it. Their tongues battled each other, fought for dominance, tasted each other's caverns. His hands picked her up bridal-style; with her in his hands he quickly walked over to his king-sized bed, tossing her on the covers, their lips still connected.

The previously crisp, clean, creaseless blankets transformed into a tangled, rumpled mess. His hands, his fingers stroked her back, her hips, her exposed legs, any skin he could reach, sending shivers down her spine. Her fingers swam through his tresses, tugging on them gently, scraping his scalp with her finger nails tenderly.

His mouth left hers, moving to trace her chin line, to suckle sweetly on her earlobe – to bite it harshly, only to nibble away the pain. His hands moved to her corset, undoing the strings, taking it off quickly and tossing it somewhere in the room.

More clothes were tossed out of their way, rendering both of them completely exposed. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, her shoulders, his lips doing magic on her skin. She felt the heat of his kisses circulate her entire body, pushing her senses away. His lips made it to her breasts; his teeth nibbled on the skin, his tongue stroked the skin, causing moans of pleasure to escape her mouth.

His hands kept caressing her everywhere, increasing the heat between them, clogging up her senses even more. She felt butterfly kisses flutter the skin of her stomach; her mind was hazed with pleasure, clouding her better senses, her entire mind.

Their bodies were both slicken with sweat, the perspiration glimmering in the moonlight that poured over them, making the rumpled bed sheets and their own hair stick to their skin. Her breath came out in loud pants as she felt his lips lower themselves to her entrance.

His tongue probed her, explored her; she moaned loudly, her fingers pulling on his hair more, her body starting to squirm in pleasure. He continued to delve within her, his tongue demanding, her moans becoming louder, imperious.

Her fingers moved to the skin of his shoulder, her nails sinking in it, drawing blood. Scratch marks covered his back, the blood from them dripping and staining the sheets under them. His mouth continued consuming her; her fingers continued to tear his skin.

His mouth finally moved away from her entrance and went to kiss her bruised lips. Their lips melded together again; she felt his hands caress her breasts, holding onto her hips callously. Her fingers slowly tried to soothe the throbbing scratches on his back. She felt his length press against her thigh; her heart thumped even louder, threatening to jump out of her chest any minute. She was with her master like this nearly every night, but he never ceased to always make her heart flutter like a little love-stricken teenage girl.

He continued attacking her lips, his patience thinning out. He wanted her – wanted her to be his, wanted to own her, wanted to keep feeling her, devouring her. Her curvaceous body, her feather-like skin, her haughty attitude, her gorgeous emerald eyes, she just drove him insane. She was his maid, but he really didn't give a damn.

And then they were one. She felt herself fall off the edge into heaven. Her moans turned into screams; her fingers clenched the sheets beneath her, almost tearing them apart. He pounded into her, enjoying the fact that he could make her scream, make her body writhe in bliss beneath him.

Their climaxes came; he filled her up with his seed. Their bodies were aching, energy-drained. He collapsed on top of her, his head fitting into the crook of her neck perfectly. She smiled slightly; his soft