After taking a turn, the car successfully arrived at Amelia Wilson's current place of residence.
Robert Taylor's eyes were eagerly fixed on her as he waited for her response.
Amelia Wilson laughed and leaned over, parting her legs and sitting straight on Robert Taylor's lap. She giggled and said, "Mr. Taylor, you better think well. If you want to marry me, you're not getting any untouched goods, but possibly second-hand, third-hand, or even nth-hand goods."
Looking at her provocative and mischievous appearance, Robert Taylor didn't see this as a problem at all.
"I'm not pristine either, don't even know how many hands I've passed through. Besides, I've never cared about whether a woman is pure or not. It doesn't matter how many men you've been with; I only care about the last man you share a bed with."
Robert Taylor's hand discreetly slipped into her nightgown from behind, caressing her smooth skin while saying, "I hope the last man you sleep with is me, that's enough."