Amora sat up in her seat, “Your mistress?” She asked, touching one side of her hair and he nodded his head, forcing out his breath.
He can’t deny that she looked so beautiful in her mini dress which showed off the right proportions of her body. On a normal occasion, he shouldn’t be getting aroused by the few skins a woman is showing off but he was with Amora’s case.
He could still remember her face that night, how she grabbed his hair, her hair sprawled on the couch, her eyes shut tight and her mouth screaming his name all night.
He was dying to see that again, for so many times actually and that’s why he put up that offer, mistress. That’s the only way he can keep someone as useful as her to his side.
Afterall, almost every rich Italian man with a wife has a mistress to the side. I
