MY SUGAR MUMMY IS A BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRE

Blake collapsed onto the chaise lounge in the sitting room, rubbing his temples. It had been another draining day at the office - board meetings, crisis management, scheduling of appointments. At least it was finally Friday. He could retreat to the peace and quiet of his penthouse for the weekend.

He poured himself a glass of cabernet and took a long sip, letting the day's stresses slowly dissolve. His gaze wandered to an oil painting above the fireplace - a tranquil forest scene of towering pines and a babbling brook. He had always found the piece oddly calming. But something about it looked slightly off tonight...had the frame shifted? Or was it just his imagination?

"Sir?" a voice called from the hallway. It was Lily, the maid Rose had assigned Blake as a cook, housekeeper, and in some way a nanny. According to her, shee had relocated from Paris, arriving with a thick French accent and impeccable references.

She had worked for Rose for years now before she was handed over to Blake for domestic purposes. Lily had become an indispensable presence over time, assisting not just with housekeeping but with managing Blake's hectic personal life. Blake had come to rely on her more than he would ever admit.

"In here, Lily," Blake called. The maid appeared in the doorway in her usual plain black dress and white appron tied around her waist, hands folded demurely and blonde hair swaying across her shoulders.

Blake sighed deeply and rolled his shoulders, trying to release the tension knotted along his upper back. He just wanted to retreat to the quiet solace of his bedroom for the evening.

"Good evening, Sir. You look utterly drained," the maid observed in her melodic French accent. She reached out and gripped Blake's shoulders firmly, giving them a gentle squeeze. "Come, let me draw you a hot bath and prepare your dinner."

Blake leaned back into Lily's cool touch, relishing the momentary relief. "You're a saint, Lily. A bath does sound divine,"

He wasn't sure if they went to school for this stuff but Lily did seem like she had a degree in household caretaking.

As the maid helped him out of his blazer, Blake caught a whiff of Lily's faint perfume - elegant notes of jasmine and amber. It was one of the smaller luxuries of having private staff that Blake had grown to appreciate. Even the subtle fragrances that surrounded him felt elevated.

After a long soak in the clawfoot tub, Blake felt marginally better. He traded his silk robe for a cozy knit sweater and loose pants, then headed downstairs. The savory aromas of garlic and searing beef wafted from the kitchen. Lily certainly knew how to spoil him after a stressful workday.

Blake found Lily meticulously arranging slices of garlic bread, roasted vegetables, and juicy cuts of filet mignon onto a large wooden board. A deep red wine already breathed on the counter. Blake's mouth watered.

"You've outdone yourself again, Lily," Blake beamed, settling onto a bar stool at the island. He picked up a piece of the grilled zucchini and popped it into his mouth, letting out a small noise of pleasure. "I'm not even sure what I did to deserve this,"

Lily gave one of her rare, demure smiles. "You work far too hard, Sir. It's the least I can do to care for you so you can give your full effort at the office."

Blake shook his head appreciatively. "You are one in a million, that's for sure."

They chatted idly while Blake ate, recounting stories from their week. As the second glass of wine disappeared, Blake felt a pleasant buzz starting to spread through him. He sat back contently, lulled by the crackle of the fireplace. His gaze wandered to Lily who was rinsing dishes at the sink.

The soft glow of the flames threw the chiseled lines of the maid's profile into sharp relief, giving her wan skin an almost luminous quality...

Blake's thoughts drifted with the hazy tendrils of smoke, and he found himself oddly transfixed by his staff's posture and movements. There was a graceful surety to Lily, an unhurried confidence that Blake couldn't quite put his finger on.

Lily turned then and arched an eyebrow quizzically. "Sir? Are you quite alright?"

Blake shook himself out of his stupor. "What? Yes, perfectly fine. Just savoring the wine while it lasts," he recovered smoothly, setting down his empty glass.

"Of course. Well then, how about a massage before you retire for the evening? I can feel the tension starting to creep back already." She gestured for Blake to stand.

Blake hesitated only a moment before letting his impulses win out. Perhaps the full-body massage would help quiet the strange undercurrents bubbling inside him. He stood and let Lily guide him over to the rug in front of the hearth.

"Down you go then. Get comfortable."

Blake stretched out on his stomach as instructed, cradling his cheek on a plush throw pillow. He heard Lily retrieving a bottle of oil from the cabinet, then felt her settle on the floor next to him. Nimble fingers found the knots in his upper back and shoulders, applying delicious pressure. Blake sighed out a breath, letting the stresses of the day finally start to dissolve.

"You have a gift, Lily. Ever considered going into professional massage therapy?" he teased.

The maid chuckled. "Perhaps in a past life?"

Blake let out a hum of amusement. The fire crackled contentedly, casting dancing light across the hardwood floors. His masseuse's touch trailed lower, finding new points of tension to untangle. Blake relaxed further as the pressures shifted and released. Before long, Lily's deft strokes slowed and his breathing settled into a deep, meditative rhythm.

Blake cracked an eye open and turned his head. The maid sat completely motionless beside him now, hands resting serenely in her lap and staring fixedly at the glowing embers. Blake felt no urge to speak and disrupt the moment. An odd sense of peace seemed to hang in the air.

Had minutes passed? Or longer?

Blake's perception of time had grown hazy, lost in the fluid dance of light and shadow surrounding them. It was Lily who finally stirred first, breaking the reverie. She rose gracefully and rested a hand on Blake's shoulder.

"I'll leave you to retire now, Sir. Rest well."

As the maid departed upstairs, Blake stayed reclined on the floor, feeling unusually centered and at ease. He gazed at the dwindling flames and let his mind wander blissfully blank before eventually making his way to bed. These little indulgences with Lily were becoming one of the unexpected bright spots in his hectic life.

'Roze does know how to pick them,' he thought.

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