Adam stood, his hands deftly buckling his pants, the metallic clink of the belt echoing softly in the room.
A satisfied, content smile spread across his face, his eyes glinting with a rare warmth that softened his usually stoic demeanor.
Clara, still kneeling, was tidying herself up, smoothing out her crumpled maid uniform and adjusting her black thong panties back into place.
Her movements were precise, almost mechanical, as she reached for a stack of napkins from the desk, her stoic expression unwavering despite the flush lingering on her pale cheeks.
"Mon Maître."
She said, her voice calm and measured, as if she hadn't just been fucked senseless moments ago.
"Do you feel relieved now?"
Adam chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that filled the room with an easy confidence.
"Relieved? Clara, I feel like I've been recharged anew. Like I could take on the damn world again, honesty thank you for helping me destress."
