Elena stepped out of the elevator at six-thirty sharp, cart wheels humming over the runner like a whispered warning. The penthouse lay hushed, city glow bleeding pale through the windows. She had slept poorly, dreams tangled in navy silk and gray eyes. The tie still hid in her apron pocket, warm from her body heat. She touched it once, reassurance and promise, then wheeled toward the master suite.
Victoria's bedroom door stood ajar. The air inside carried jasmine and something darker, sleep-warm skin, expensive desire. Elena pushed the cart in slow. The room unfolded like a secret: bed vast as a continent, silk sheets the color of fresh cream twisted from restless dreams. Pillows scattered. One indent still held the shape of a woman's hip.
She began with the floor. Vacuum low, methodical stripes across Persian wool. The hum masked her heartbeat. She moved to the nightstands, dusting crystal bottles that caught the dawn and threw fractured rainbows. A silk robe lay draped over a chaise, sleeves trailing like surrendered arms. Elena lifted it, pressed the fabric to her cheek. Victoria's scent flooded her: skin, perfume, faint salt of last night's sweat.
She folded the robe with care, fingers lingering on the belt. Imagined cinching it around Victoria's waist, pulling tight until breath hitched. Heat pooled low again, relentless. She shook her head and turned to the bed.
Sheets first. She stripped them slow, gathering armfuls of cool silk. The fabric slid over her forearms like water, heavy with the weight of another woman's dreams. She buried her face in the bundle and inhaled deep. Musk and jasmine, yes, but something sharper, arousal dried into the weave. Her knees weakened. She pressed thighs together, thong already damp.
New sheets waited in the linen closet, ivory, five-hundred thread count. She snapped one open, let it billow like a sail. The mattress accepted it with a sigh. She smoothed every wrinkle, palms gliding, hips swaying subtle. Bent over the footboard, skirt rode high. Cool air kissed the backs of her thighs. She lingered there, ass presented to the empty room, pulse throbbing between her legs.
A soft sound behind her. Bare feet on carpet. Elena froze. Victoria stood in the doorway, robe loose, hair a dark spill over one shoulder. Nipples pressed visible against silk, dark rose peaks. She held a porcelain cup, steam curling.
"You're early," Victoria murmured, voice husky from sleep. Eyes traveled Elena's body slow, deliberate. "I like punctual women."
Elena straightened, cheeks burning. "Good morning, ma'am. I mean, Victoria." The name tasted intimate on her tongue.
Victoria smiled, small and knowing. She crossed the room, robe parting with each step to reveal the curve of breast, the shadow between thighs. She set the cup on the dresser and leaned against it, watching Elena tuck corners with military precision.
"Hospital corners," Victoria observed. "Someone taught you well."
"My abuela," Elena answered. Voice steadier than her hands. "She said a bed should look untouched until you ruin it yourself."
Victoria laughed low, throaty. "Wise woman." She sipped tea, gaze never leaving Elena's fingers. "Come here."
Elena obeyed, pulse roaring in her ears. Stopped a foot away. Close enough to smell bergamot on Victoria's breath.
"Fix this." Victoria lifted a lock of hair that had escaped its loose knot. Elena reached, trembling fingers brushing warm skin as she tucked the strand behind an ear. Victoria's eyes fluttered half-closed. "Again."
Elena repeated the motion slower, letting fingertips trail the shell of Victoria's ear, down the column of her neck. Gooseflesh rose in their wake. Victoria's breath hitched audible.
"Better," Victoria whispered. She caught Elena's wrist gentle, held it. Thumb stroked the inside, feeling the frantic beat. "You're shaking."
"Cold," Elena lied.
"Liar." Victoria's smile curved wicked. She guided Elena's hand lower, over collarbone, to the edge of the robe. Silk parted further. Full breast exposed, nipple tight and begging. "Warm me."
Elena's mouth went dry. She cupped the weight tentative, thumb grazing the peak. Victoria arched into the touch, soft moan escaping. The sound shot straight to Elena's clit. She circled the nipple slow, watching Victoria's lips part.
"Harder," Victoria breathed.
Elena pinched, rolled. Victoria's free hand slid to Elena's waist, pulled her closer until hips met. Heat bloomed where they touched. Victoria's thigh slipped between Elena's, pressing up against soaked thong. Elena gasped, grinding instinctive.
"That's it," Victoria praised. "Feel how wet you make me."
She released Elena's wrist only to slide both hands under the apron, gripping ass firm. Pulled Elena flush, thigh riding higher. Elena rocked shameless now, clit dragging over muscle through thin fabric. Victoria claimed her mouth sudden, fierce. Tongues tangled, tea and jasmine flooding Elena's senses.
The kiss turned hungry. Teeth nipped lower lip. Victoria walked her backward until knees hit the bed. They tumbled together, sheets billowing around them. Victoria straddled Elena's hips, robe falling open completely. Body lithe, toned, skin golden in morning light. Small breasts high, waist nipped, flare of hips. A sapphire glinted at her navel, another secret piercing lower, nestled in trimmed dark curls.
Elena stared, awed. Victoria smirked and took Elena's hands, placed them on her own breasts. "Touch. Anywhere."
Fingers explored reverent. Down the flat stomach, tracing the piercing. Victoria shivered. Elena dipped lower, parting slick folds. Victoria was drenched, lips swollen, clit peeking proud. Elena circled it slow, watching Victoria's head fall back, throat exposed.
"Yes," Victoria hissed. "Inside."
Two fingers slid deep, welcomed by velvet heat. Victoria rode them slow, hips rolling. Elena curled, found the spot that made Victoria cry out sharp. Thumb pressed clit in rhythm. Victoria's walls fluttered, juices coating Elena's hand to the wrist.
"More," Victoria demanded. She leaned down, breasts brushing Elena's uniform. Captured her mouth again while grinding harder. Elena added a third finger, stretching. Victoria moaned into the kiss, body trembling.
Elena felt her own climax building from the friction on her thong alone. She bucked up, desperate. Victoria sensed it, reached between them, shoved Elena's skirt higher. Fingers found the soaked lace, pushed it aside. One digit teased Elena's entrance, then plunged deep alongside the thong string.
They moved together, fingers fucking in tandem. Wet sounds filled the room, obscene and perfect. Victoria broke the kiss to bite Elena's neck, marking. Elena's free hand tangled in dark hair, holding tight.
"Come with me," Victoria ordered, voice ragged.
Elena shattered first. Pussy clamped around Victoria's fingers, squirting hard enough to soak the fresh sheets beneath. Victoria followed seconds later, walls spasming, hot flood coating Elena's palm. She collapsed forward, forehead to Elena's, both panting.
Minutes passed, hearts slowing. Victoria rolled to the side, robe a lost cause. She traced lazy circles on Elena's stomach through the uniform. "You'll ruin every bed in this house," she murmured, amused.
Elena laughed breathy. "Part of the service."
Victoria propped on an elbow, eyes soft now. "Stay tonight. After dinner. I'll show you the studio."
Elena nodded, throat tight. Victoria kissed her once more, gentle, then rose. Robe reclaimed, she padded to the bathroom. Shower hissed on.
Elena lay stunned, staring at the ceiling. Sheets ruined again, scent of them both heavy. She sat up slow, thighs sticky. Straightened her uniform best she could. Apron askew, hair wild. She stripped the bed once more, bundling evidence for the wash.
New sheets, hospital corners crisp. Pillows fluffed. By the time Victoria emerged, towel-turbaned and glowing, the room looked innocent.
Victoria crossed to her, cupped Elena's cheek. "Good girl." A quick kiss to the corner of her mouth, then she was gone, heels clicking toward the gallery wing.
Elena finished the suite on autopilot. Vacuumed again to erase footprints. Polished mirrors that reflected her flushed, bitten lips. In the walk-in closet, she hung the robe, fingers lingering on lingerie drawers. One pair of panties, black lace, crotch damp. She brought them to her nose, inhaled Victoria sharp. Pocketed them quick, heart racing.
Rest of the morning blurred. She dusted the dining room, mind replaying every thrust, every moan. Lunch alone, sandwich forgotten as she rubbed thighs together under the table. Afternoon brought Julian's room.
Door cracked, music low. She knocked soft. No answer. Pushed in. Julian hunched over three monitors, code scrolling green. Hoodie sleeves pushed up, pale forearms flying across keys. He startled when she spoke.
"Dusting," she said gentle.
He nodded, cheeks pink. Eyes flicked to her legs, then away. She worked around him, bending to reach under the desk. His breath hitched audible. She smiled to herself, skirt riding deliberate.
A photo on his corkboard caught her eye: Julian and a slim boy with blue hair, arms slung casual. Pronoun pin on the boy's jacket: he/they. Elena's heart softened. She dusted the frame careful.
Julian cleared his throat. "You missed a spot." Voice shy.
She turned. He pointed at the windowsill. She leaned across him to reach, breast brushing his shoulder. He froze. She felt his shiver.
"Sorry," she murmured, not sorry.
"It's okay." Barely a whisper.
She finished and left him flushed, typing faster. Door closed soft behind her.
Evening crept in. Family dinner. Elena served in fresh uniform, apron hiding the lace panties in her pocket. Alexander's eyes tracked her every move. Victoria's smile secret. Julian avoided gaze entirely.
Under the table, Victoria's bare foot slid up Elena's calf, slow. Toes traced stocking seam. Elena bit her lip to hide the gasp. Alexander noticed, his brow arched. His own foot nudged hers again, possessive.
Dessert: strawberries and cream. Victoria fed Elena one from her fingers, juice dripping. Elena licked it clean slow, eyes locked on Victoria's. Alexander's hand tightened on his glass. Julian stared at his plate.
Dishes done, Elena retreated. Shower long, fingers revisiting the morning's memory. She came twice under the spray, knees buckling.
Midnight neared. She slipped into a silk nightie borrowed from laundry, no panties. Padded barefoot to the gallery wing. Door unlocked. Inside, canvases loomed huge, half-finished abstracts in crimson and gold.
Victoria waited in a pool of spotlight, nude but for a sapphire choker. Paintbrush in hand. "Pose for me."
Elena obeyed, climbing onto a draped pedestal. Victoria approached slow, brush stroking air first. Then skin. Cool paint trailed Elena's collarbone, down between breasts. Nipples peaked instant.
"Hold still," Victoria commanded.
She painted swirling patterns, tongue caught between teeth in concentration. Brush dipped lower, over stomach, circling navel. Elena's thighs parted instinctive. Victoria smiled dark.
"Greedy." She set the brush aside, hands slick with paint. Knelt. Mouth found Elena's clit without warning. Tongue flicked expert. Elena cried out, hands tangling in Victoria's hair.
Fingers joined tongue, three curling deep. Elena rode her face shameless, hips bucking. Paint smeared everywhere. Orgasm built swift, brutal. She came screaming, squirting across Victoria's chin, dripping to the canvas below.
Victoria rose, mouth glistening. Kissed Elena fierce, sharing the taste. "My muse," she whispered.
They collapsed onto the drop cloth, bodies sliding in paint and release. Victoria scissored against her slow, clits kissing slick. Second climax shared, quieter, deeper. Limbs tangled, hearts syncing.
Later, cleaned in the studio sink, Victoria wrapped Elena in a fresh robe. Walked her back to the staff elevator. Kiss goodnight lingering.
"Tomorrow," Victoria promised.
Elena floated to her room. Collapsed into bed, paint still faint under nails. Dreams waited: Victoria's tongue, Alexander's tie, Julian's shy eyes. The penthouse held its breath around her.
Morning would bring more chores. More secrets. Silk sheets carried new stains now, invisible but permanent. She smiled into the pillow, body humming.
The coil twisted tighter. Dust turned to paint turned to flesh. Desire layered thick as oil on canvas. She welcomed every stroke.