Amelia
“Yes, ma’am,” Martin answers, folding his hands behind his head.
He watches as I run my hands under his shirt, loving the feel of his sculpted chest.
As impatient as I am, I rip the shirt open, causing buttons to fly everywhere. I’m glad he’s not wearing a tie.
I know he has another suit in here, so I don’t have to worry about what he’ll wear after.
His c*ck twitches underneath me, and as a reward, I grind back and forth on it. He grabs my hips and squeezes them, while his eyes flutter shut.
“F*ck, Amelia. If you keep doing that, you know I’ll get out of control and forget that you’re in charge,” he hisses out.
“Do I have to tie you to the bed?” I threaten, which turns out not to be a threat as Martin’s eyes light up and gets darker at the same time.
“Do what you want with
