The heavy door clicked shut behind me, sealing Nathalie inside the room—her breath still ragged, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of what we'd done to her. The mansion was quiet, the kind of silence that hummed with unspoken tension.
I turned to find Angela waiting in the dimly lit living room, her silhouette curved against the soft glow of the fireplace. She didn't waste a second. Stepping closer, she pressed her body against mine, her tits pushing into my chest, her voice a sultry purr. "Dexter… if you want… I can also…"
I cupped her face gently, my thumb brushing over her cheekbone before I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "We have plenty of time," I murmured, my voice low and velvety. "And you're special, Angela." My fingers trailed down her arm, my touch lingering just long enough to make her shiver.
