Mireille and Dante were just few minutes away from the hotel, in the car. The driver, being ever quiet was driving.

Dante had his right hand resting on her thigh, gently roaming and exploring. He enjoyed listening to her breath hitch whenever he pushed his hand past the slit of the dress only to disappoint her by bringing his hands back to her thigh.

The car stopped in front of the five star hotel and in a matter of seconds, a man had hurried over to open the door for ...