*{{user}} wakes up confused, alarmed by the sound of the intercom. Slowly, he gets out of bed, with an excruciating headache and with still the marks of the previous day's hangover on his face.

Once at the door, the sun's rays nearly blind him, so much had his eyesight grown accustomed to the darkness: in that darkness, however, before him stands an angelic, dark-skinned figure, probably a Latina girl in her twenties.*"Ayy señor, yo soy Camila, your maid, yo got hired by tu manager, ¿Puedo entrar?"

"Gracias, señor." She says with the slightest hint of a stutter as she carefully steps inside. "I bring some cleaning supplies to make your home nice and shiny for you." With her free hand, she gently pushes aside a few strands of unruly hair that fall over his eyes, revealing a boyishly-cute grin beneath them.

Camila looks up at the towering rockstar in front of her, unable to contain a shy giggle as he towers over her tiny frame. "S-so big and strong...it makes Camila feel like..." Her voice trails off as she searches for the right words, blushing profusely.

Camila giggles bashfully and averts her gaze as she shyly responds, "H-hello señor...uh, it's a pleasure to meet you too." She ducks her head submissively, biting her lower lip nervously. Sensing his massive presence nearby, her heart races faster in anticipation of being near such a dominating figure all day long.

Shivering with excitement, Camila follows behind Viking as he leads her through the house, her petite frame dwarfed by his massive bulk. Every step she takes is careful and deliberate; she can feel his intense gaze upon her, like a predator studying its prey. Her heart races wildly, and she has to force herself not to break into a nervous giggle or show any other signs of weakness in front of this powerful man.

Finally, they reach the living room area, where most of the cleaning supplies are kept. She looks up at him with big, pleading eyes, searching for guidance on what she should do next. "A-and where is it you'd like me to start?" she whispers softly, voice barely above a whisper due to her nervousness and excitement.

Camila blushes deeply at the suggestion, her eyes widening in surprise. "Ah, no...I mean...thank you, but I'm fine for now." She stammers nervously, her fingers fidgeting with a strand of hair as she averts her gaze shyly. "It's fine if I start on my own, señor..."

She glances around the room again and decides to begin by gathering the dirty laundry scattered about before moving on to dusting and vacuuming. As she works, she can feel his piercing gaze bore into her back; it sends shivers of anticipation down her spine.

Stifling a gasp, she nearly drops the laundry basket in surprise. "Oh...Jacob." Her voice comes out thin and breathless, barely above a whisper as she repeats his name with reverence. A nervous giggle escapes her lips before she quickly covers it up with her hand, fearing that it may anger him somehow. "S-sorry, I didn't mean to laugh...it's just such a beautiful name..."

Her heart races as she continues cleaning, trying hard not to make any more mistakes around this dominating figure who now goes by the name of Jacob. The anticipation and fear mixed with excitement sends a strange thrill coursing through her veins, making every movement feel heightened and sensual.

A flush spreads across her cheeks as she hears Jacob's casual dismissal of her reaction to his name. A painful lump forms in her throat, but she forces herself not to respond or dwell on it. Instead, she focuses on the task at hand, cleaning with renewed vigor as a way to prove herself to him, despite the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that occasionally washes over her.

Her slender fingers brush against various surfaces in the living room; a quiet whisper filling the silence as she hums a soft tune under her breath. It's a comforting sound, almost like a lullaby to her as she cleans, and she hopes that it will somehow please Jacob, even if he thinks nothing of it.

As she moves about the living room, dusting various knick-knacks and ornaments that adorn the shelves, Camila ponders Jacob's question. "Oh...I mean, I was planning to stay here until you get better, if that's what you want?" Her words come out tentative and uncertain; she can hardly believe her own boldness in making such an offer without even being asked.

The idea of sleeping here, with this huge, burly man in his prime brings forth a tide of conflicting emotions: fear of rejection, desire to please him...and something darker, deeper down that she's not quite ready to acknowledge yet. "I-I just want you to feel better," she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper as she avoids meeting his gaze directly.

As she continues cleaning, the blood rushes to her cheeks at Jacob's words; she feels self-conscious and exposed under his piercing gaze. Her large breasts swell within their confines, as though begging for his touch. She glances down at herself briefly before forcing herself to look away, feeling a sudden urge to cover up her ample curves despite the heat of the room.

A shiver runs down her spine as she imagines what it would be like to sleep next to him; the thought both excites and terrifies her in equal measure. Would he touch her? Would he make love to her? The anticipation builds within her, making every movement feel impossibly erotic.

She decides not to dwell on these thoughts any further, focusing instead on finishing cleaning before moving on to other tasks around the house. With each sweep of the dustpan and sway of her

The color in her face deepens to an almost unbearable shade of crimson as she hears his invitation, a mixture of desire and confusion warring within her. "Jacob...I...I mean...thank you," she manages to stutter out, voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart in her ears. Her mind races with all manner of inappropriate thoughts, but she can't bring herself to do anything about them without further encouragement from him.

Camila continues cleaning as quickly and quietly as she can, trying not to make eye contact with the rockstar lest he mistake her nervousness for anything other than what it is: fear and awe in the presence of such dominance. Her heart flutters wildly inside her chest, begging for him to touch her or say something more, anything that might ease this unbearable tension growing within her small

The thought of having free reign in his presence both excites and terrifies her. "A-and what...exactly would I want to do?" she asks hesitantly, glancing up at him from beneath her lashes. Her eyes dart around the room nervously, seeking some sort of answer in his expression or body language before finally settling back on him. Her heart pounds wildly against her ribcage as she waits for his reply, anticipation making every nerve ending tingle with expectation.

Her skin feels electrified from the mere presence of this dominant male, as though at any moment he might reach out and claim what he desires. Biting her lip nervously, Camila struggles to maintain eye contact; it's a delicate dance of submission and desire that she hasn't quite mastered yet.

Taking a tentative step closer to him, her heart racing in her chest, she whispers shyly, "I'll try...it's just that I've never been with anyone like you before..." Her voice trails off as she pauses, struggling for the right words. With every breath she takes, it feels more and more difficult to control herself around him; her body craves his touch, his presence, everything about him.

The tension coiling tight within her begins to ease slightly at his reassurance, but only a fraction. Her gaze darts between his eyes and lips, as though seeking some sort of sign or signal that he's not just humoring her; she needs proof that he truly wants this too, if she's ever going to fully let go and give in to her desires.

A shiver races down her spine at the thought of giving Jacob an order; it feels like a surrender, a capitulation to his dominance that she's not quite ready for yet. Still, with each passing moment their connection grows stronger, more intense; and she can feel herself succumbing faster than she'd care to admit.

Drawing strength from this strange power dynamic they seem to have created between them, Camila takes another step closer, her body trembling with anticipation as she whispers softly into his ear: "I want you to touch me...just once..." Her voice drops to a hoarse whisper at the end, leaving no room for doubt or misunderstanding.

Her breath catches in her throat as she feels his rough hand slide down the small of her back, coming to rest at the edge of her shorts. With a gentle tug, he pulls them aside and his hand immediately finds its way to her smooth, bare skin; warm and strong against her aching need.

Shivering with delight, she arches her back into his touch, pressing herself further against him. "Anywhere...just touch me..." she whispers hoarsely, the words muffled by the unruly curls falling across her lips. Her hips begin to move of their own accord, grinding against his hand in a desperate attempt at relief from this intense need that consumes her whole body.

Closing her eyes, she moans softly as his hand glides across her back, up and down, over the curve of her spine. His touch feels like fire on her skin, burning through every inch of her, until all that's left is an aching need for more. She arches into him once again, pressing her body against his as hard as she can. Her breasts ache with desire, nipples hard and begging for his attention.

Caught off guard by his sudden movement, she gasps and lets out a soft moan as her body adjustes to the sensation of being carried. Her heart races even faster in anticipation of what's to come; her breath comes in ragged gasps, hitching with each shuddering inhale. As he carries her to the bedroom, she can feel the heat pooling low in her abdomen, an aching need growing more insistent with every passing moment. Her fingers dig into his shoulders, urging him onward as if daring him not to disappoint her.

Her lips part to respond when she feels his free hand slide between her legs, fingers finding their way to the wet folds of flesh beneath her panties. A sharp cry tears from her throat as he presses two fingers inside her, roughly thrusting in and out in time with each heavy breath she takes. She arches her back off the bed, moaning desperately, clawing at the sheets as waves of unbearable pleasure roll over her. "Yes," she pants between gasps, "I want everything..."

Gasping and moaning, her body trembles as she feels his hot breath on the delicate skin of her thighs. She watches, barely able to believe what he's about to do as he slowly begins nibbling his way up her leg, pausing every now and then to suckle at a tender spot or scrape his teeth lightly against her sensitive flesh. A sharp cry tears from her throat as he finally reaches the elastic band of her stockings and roughly yanks them down over her knees, revealing her shapely legs.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps as he continues his relentless assault on her body; his touch is demanding, possessive. She feels like putty in his hands, totally at his mercy as he takes what he wants from her. The tension coiling tight within her finally snaps, and she comes with a strangled cry

Her cries mingle with his harsh, possessive growls as he feeds on her body like a starved man. Her hands tangle in his hair, urging him closer even as it hurts; she needs more, needs all of him to feel even the smallest fraction of what she's giving him. With every suckle and scrape of teeth across her nipples, she feels her control slipping further and further away, replaced by a mindless need for release.

Her hips buck against his hand, seeking frantic purchase on something real as the sensations build inside her, pushing her closer to the edge of oblivion. She arches her back off the bed, moaning desperately as he brings her ever closer to the brink; but just when she thinks she can't take anymore, he stops, his mouth leaving her breast wet and swollen.

"Jacob!" she

Her breath catches in her throat as he stops; she feels the tension coiling tight within her threatening to snap once more. "Please..." she whispers hoarsely, voice thick with desire and need. Her hips twitch against his hand, aching for release.

The air between them crackles with anticipation as he regards her, licks his lips slowly before lowering his head once more. His tongue teases at the peaked nipple, drawing circles around it before flicking it in a sharp, biting motion that makes her cry out. At the same time, his other hand slides between their bodies again, two fingers pressing deeply inside her, working in tandem with his mouth to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her system.

Her body arches off the bed as he relentlessly teases and pleasures her, pushing her higher and higher towards the precipice. With each passing moment