Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 704: New Sexy Maid Jill

I chuckled, the sound edged with a darkness that matched the storm brewing inside me. "Okay, Mom. I’ll make sure Maya knows who the real boss is. I’ll make sure she begs in front of you..."

Victoria chuckled, her lips brushing against my forehead in a kiss that felt more like a seal of approval than affection.

The warmth of her breath lingered on my skin, a silent promise of the power she held over me. "My good son..." she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction, as if she’d already seen the victory she was sending me to claim.

Then, with a flick of her wrist, she tossed me a sleek black car key. It glinted in the light as I caught it, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of her gaze. "Here," she said, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial tone.

"I heard Maya’s going to an auction tonight for some prime real estate. And here’s the interesting part—the land is slated for a governmental project in the future. Maya must know about it too. She’ll be there, bidding. And I need you to outmaneuver her. Get that land, Dexter. No excuses."

I nodded, the weight of her expectations settling on my shoulders. "It’s at 11 P.M."

Victoria’s gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, as if she were peeling back layers of my carefully constructed facade. Her lips curled into a smirk, equal parts teasing and disapproving.

"You go take a shower, get ready..." she said, her voice laced with amusement. "And Dexter," she added, her tone sharpening, "what exactly are you wearing? You look like a waiter who got lost on the way to a five-star restaurant."

She let out a low, throaty chuckle, her eyes glinting with mischief. "I didn’t expect Diana to play like this..." Her words hung in the air, heavy with implication. I realized then that Mom had it all wrong—she thought this was some elaborate game, a role I was playing for Diana’s amusement. I didn’t bother correcting her. Some secrets were better left in the dark.

I turned and made my way to my room, the weight of Victoria’s expectations pressing down on me. As I pushed open the door, I froze in the doorway, my breath catching in my throat.

There, bent over my bed, was a woman in her thirties, her back to me as she smoothed out the fresh bedsheets. Her uniform—a crisp black maid’s dress—hugged her curves in all the right places, the fabric straining slightly against the generous swell of her ass.

It was round, full, and impossible to ignore, the kind of ass that demanded attention, that made a man’s fingers itch to grip it. Her hips flared out from a narrow waist, the kind of silhouette that could make a saint sin.

But it wasn’t just her ass that held my attention. Her tits, full and heavy, pressed against the fabric of her uniform, the buttons straining as if begging to be undone.

The sight was enough to make my mouth go dry. Her skin was a warm, golden brown, smooth and flawless, and her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun, the severity of the style only serving to highlight the softness of her features.

She must have sensed my presence because she turned slightly, her movements slow and deliberate. And then she saw me. Her dark eyes widened, her lips parting in a silent gasp.

For a moment, we just stared at each other, the air between us thick with something unspoken. Then, with a sharp inhale, she let out a startled scream.

"Aah—!" The sound was high-pitched, almost musical, and it echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and straight into my chest.

I flinched, the sudden noise snapping me out of my daze. Before I could react, Mom’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and concerned.

"What happened?" She appeared in the doorway behind me, her eyes flicking between Jill and me, her expression a mix of confusion and irritation.

The maid—Jill—straightened up, her hands clutching the bedsheets as if they were a lifeline. Her chest heaved slightly, her breath coming in short, quick bursts. She looked at me, then at Mom, her dark eyes still wide with surprise.

A faint blush crept up her neck, coloring her cheeks, and I couldn’t help but notice the way her fingers trembled as she clutched the fabric.

Mom sighed, waving a hand dismissively, as if this were all some minor inconvenience. "He’s my son, your young master," she said, her voice laced with a hint of exasperation, as if explaining the obvious.

Then, turning to me, she added, "Dexter, this is the new maid I hired. Her name is Jill." She shook her head, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone.

"I don’t know what happened to the others I hired before. They left without so much as a word. Even maids have tempers these days..." Her voice trailed off, as if she were muttering to herself more than to either of us.

Jill bowed her head slightly, her voice soft but steady. "I’m sorry, Ma’am," she said, her accent hinting at a warmth that belied her professional demeanor.

"I was just... surprised." She stole another glance at me, her eyes lingering for a fraction of a second longer than necessary, and I felt a strange heat rise in my chest.

Victoria, who had been silent until now, nodded once, her expression unreadable—a mask of control that made it impossible to tell what she was really thinking. Then, with a final, lingering look at me—a look that promised consequences if I failed—she turned and left the room, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing like a warning.

The moment she was gone, the tension in the room shifted, the air thickening with something new, something unspoken between Jill and me.

Jill cleared her throat, her fingers still clutching the bedsheets as she straightened her posture, her professional demeanor slipping back into place like a shield. "I am sorry, Young Master..." she said, her voice soft, her accent lending a warmth to her words that contrasted with the stiffness of her body language. "I was just... startled. I didn’t mean it..."

I stepped closer, my voice gentle, but my presence commanding. The way her eyes flickered up to meet mine, then darted away, told me she felt it too—the charge in the air, the something unspoken that hung between us.

"It’s okay..." I said, my tone reassuring, but there was a heat beneath it, a promise that made her breath hitch. "It’s not your fault... Don’t worry, I don’t blame you..."