Ambrose started to remove his clothes. He never put on less layers than he would any normal day. He came in and was stripped of his identity. Afterwards he would put his clothes back on and walk out of the house as he had before, ready for the world. It did, although, make it harder for the clothes to be removed in a timely fashion. That always make Maia angry, and that is what he wanted. This was not about the niceties of sex with a loving partner this was about getting lost in his own desires.
Her rough kiss only heightened it and soon he was naked as the day he was born, clothes a heap on the floor. First time he had tried to fold them she had ripped them out of his hands and back on the ground. His dry cleaner was not going to be happy. He knelt on the cold ground, the floor digging into his knees. He bent his head and waited to see what his Mistress had install for him.