Ophelia had never been interested in men, never once making the sacrifices so many other spies were often forced to endure.
She would even drug her targets instead of sleeping with them whenever she found herself in a tricky situation.
Even her own son, Alistair, had been born through artificial insemination.
To her, men were merely a distraction from her main objectives, and she had always viewed women obsessed with them as idiots.
And yet, there she was, her entire body engulfed by a hellish orgasm.
Her eyes widened and her back arched in a violent spasm.
Her enormous tits surged upward with the movement before crashing back down, the heavy mounds slapping against her delicate torso with a wet, fleshy sound, ripples cascading across the milky flesh.
She clenched her teeth and pulled Ethan toward her, her arched back aligning her breasts perfectly with his face.
