The Mafia's Married Mistress

n Da

e Ritz-Carlton exuded an air of sophistication and exclusivity. It was my favorite haunt, a pla

nd. The stress of closing multimillion-dollar deals, the relentless pressure to maintain

he_ stum

ll to the floor. Without even thinking, I rushed over and s

asked, flashing he

ed, looking up at me with glazed

was quite attractive - long brown hair, full lips, and a figure that filled out her tight dress in a

id, gesturing to the bartender. "You've h

pped it slowly, I took the opportunity to study her features more closely. There was a delicat

e way," I said, e

replied, shak

se. I learned that she was in town on a business trip, and had come to the hotel bar to unwi

alcohol. She leaned in closer to me, batting her eyelashes and occasionally placing a hand on

versation in private. "My suite is just upstairs," I murmured, my hand brushing a

, then nodded. "Okay," she said,

le, both of us practically buzzing with anticipation. When we finally reached my suite, I quickly

er backwards towards the bed, my hands roaming over her curves as she moaned softly against my lips. Bef

couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this satisfied, this content. There was somethi

he curtains, casting a soft glow over her face. She looked peaceful, her features relaxed in sle

d, her eyes fluttering open as she took in her surroundings. I watched as the r

e murmured, hastily sitting u

oughly confused by her reaction. "What

uch, her eyes wild. "I...I c