Oscar’s knocks gradually became heavier and furious. “Amelia Winters, open the door!” he commanded.

It wasn’t until he knocked ten consecutive times that the door finally clicked open from the inside.

Amelia, dressed only in a bathrobe, was standing behind the door, her hair wet and her cheeks slightly flushed. She was, needless to say, a picture-perfect example of temptation.

Oscar’s eyes darkened with desire in a blink of an eye. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and scrutinized her from head to toe.

Amelia noticed the difference in his behavior, yet she remained distant when she spoke. “Mr. Clinton, I’m tired.”

back of his foot. He lowered her onto

her hands on his broad chest and replied, “Nothing. I’m just tired,

picked you in the first place because I liked that you weren’t one who enjoyed meaningless quarrels. If you’re now learning to put up airs with me, let me make it clear—you won’t end up with a

smile on her face to conceal it. “Mr. Clinton, you don’t have to keep reminding me. I know it better

if trying to pick up any

hit by a wave of fatigue. The thought of dealing with Oscar Clinton was completely overtaken by

without warning, gently placing her on the bed before climbing up above

stopped creaking and their heavy panting gradually slowed down in

scent. She failed to conceal the weariness in her eyes for her

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