"Do you really think that?" With a finger under her chin I lift her face so she has to look at me. "Amelia, tell me honestly, did you enjoy our call?"

"I—"

"Don't lie." My voice is firm.

"Sure, but—"

I lean forward, sliding my arms around her waist, and whisper in her ear, "Did you enjoy it when I told you to touch your clit?" I can feel her squirm.

"Yes," she breathes.

"Did calling me sir turn you on?"

"Yes."

"And did you have an amazing orgasm?"

"Yes." She gently holds onto my jacket as if she needs something to steady her.

"Then how can this be wrong?"

"It's not what normal people do."

"Who are these normal people? We have no clue what goes on behind closed bedroom doors, believe me! Forget others. Nobody knows about this. Think about yourself. If you want this, I'm here for you." I take a step back and she almost tumbles forward when she can no longer lean against me.

"Why are you sitting all the way in the back?" I ask, casually changing the topic, and nod to the table. The eyes of her admirer are boring into me. Oh, he’s definitely interested in her and not pleased to see me whisper in her ear. I gently stroke my hand over her back and leave it just above her delicious bum to stake my claim. Childish, I know, but he needs to know she’s mine.

"Miranda paired me up with her cousin, Peter." She turns towards him and quickly turns back when she finds his eyes on us.

"Are you interested in him?" That didn't sound jealous at all, knobhead.

"No! He just told me what his favourite microwave dinner is because he can't cook and then asked me if I'm a good cook. I mean, I know I'm not the most exciting person, but even I want more from life than a bit of nooky over a microwave meal." Her comment makes me snort.

"I think you missed the point where he wants you to cook for him," I chuckle.

"Ben!" She slaps me playfully, but there is a twinkle in her eyes.

"And I think you proved last week that you are anything but boring, darling," I whisper in her ear.

"Ben." This time my name sounds like a moan.

"Dance with me," I demand.

“Why should I?” Amelia crosses her arms. She tries to fight me but her eyes betray her. I know she wants this.

“The way I see it, you have two options. Dance with me or get dragged back to the cousin by Miranda. It’s your call, darling.”

I put my hands on her shoulder and turn her so she can see the bride approaching with Peter.

“Oh shit,” Amelia whispers. “Fine, you win, one dance!”

We’ll see. I take her hand and drag her past a surprised-looking Miranda and a scowling Peter. When I pull Amelia to me my cock thickens. She feels so good and so perfect. I close the distance between us and start to sway with her in my arms. My fingers slide over her curves and when I cup an arse cheek a little moan escapes her. Since our call I haven't been able to think of anything other than letting my fingers go where hers had been.

“Do you like that, darling?” She doesn’t say anything so I squeeze a little harder. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she sighs.

“Good girl." There’s that shudder again. "Tell me how wet you are.”

“Ben! I am not—” I stop her with a rough kiss. Oh fuck. It meant to stop her talking, but I suddenly realise that this is our first kiss in twenty years and it lights a fire in me that I thought had died forever. The taste of her, the warmth of her tongue as I slide into her mouth, the gentle pull when she sucks on my bottom lip. It is familiar but also new and for a moment I forget why I kissed her.

“Don’t lie to me,” I groan when I eventually break away. I can see the conflict on her face. I know she is worried that people will judge her. But she is equally excited by the prospect of testing out where this will lead her.

“I don’t know,” she finally says and lowers her eyes to the floor. A beautiful pink is spreading across her cheeks. I grab her hand and drag her from the dance floor.

“Where are we going?” she asks in protest as I lead her down a corridor.

“In here.” I push open a small door to a room that I assume the hotel uses for meetings. It’s dark, but the streetlamps lining the driveway to the venue cast a little light into the room.

I press Amelia against the wood panelling and kiss her hard. My tongue dips into her mouth and she moans. Yes, it feels that good.

“Spread your legs,” I demand.

“What?”

“You heard me, darling. Spread. Your. Legs. Now.” She hesitates for a second, but when I raise an eyebrow and throw her a challenging look, she slowly parts her thighs.

I kneel down in front of her and slide my hands up underneath her dress until they find her knickers. My fingers hook into the material on the left and the right and drag them downwards until they pool at her feet. I stand up and lock eyes with her.

“Let’s see, shall we?” I pull the hem of the bottom part of her dress up until her pussy is exposed. Slowly, one of my fingers glides over her cunt and is immediately coated in her juices. “So wet,” I groan, and my fingers draw lazy circles around her clit before two of them enter her pussy.

Amelia moans loudly and grabs my shoulders.

"Does this feel how you imagined last week?"

"Better," she groans.

“Darling, put your hands against the wall.”

“Ben, I—” She stops talking and moans again when a third finger enters her.

“I said, put your hands against the wall. You have one second or I’ll stop.” A shiver races through her body but she is finally my good girl and presses the palms of her hands against the panelling on either side of her.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers. Fuck, that made my dick twitch.

“Now, listen to me.” My fingers pump lazily in and out of her wet pussy. “You are not to come until I tell you to. Do you understand?”

Amelia whimpers but eventually replies, “Yes, sir.”