💮͓̽His Mistress💮

Will She Accept Us?

Angel's POV

"I thought we were done shooting, Raul?" I asked as we stepped into the building.

"We are, tesoro," he replied, slipping his hand into mine. "But this is the stage where characters get called back—for missing shots or extra scenes the crew wants to add."

I nodded in understanding as we stepped into his private elevator and rode up to the studio.

The studio kept us busy all day, and by the time we wrapped up, I was exhausted, my muscles aching from hours on set.

Raul noticed, his blue eyes softening, and before I could voice out my worries, he scooped me onto his back, carrying me to the car like I weighed nothing.

His strength was effortless, and I couldn't help but smile, my cheek pressed against his broad shoulder, his woodsy scent wrapping around me.

Instead of heading back to his mansion, we went to his condo—something about it felt cozier, more like us.

We cooked dinner together, laughing between stolen kisses.

After eating, we slipped into the bathroom for a bubble bath, the water scented with jasmine, bubbles clinging to our skin.

The walls and mirror fogged with steam.

I settled against his chest, his strong arms circling my waist, his back resting against the tub.

The heat of his body against mine felt like home.

My fingers played with his, tracing the veins, memorizing the lines and positions.

"Raul," I murmured.

He hummed into my neck, his lips brushing the skin there. His fingers tangled in my hair lazily.

"What has your mom said about... us?" I asked, my voice soft, his fingers now weaving through my damp curls, tugging gently.

"I haven't spoken to her in weeks, tesoro," he mumbled against my neck, his breath hot. "I don't know what she thinks."

"Will she accept us?" I pressed, my heart tightening at the thought. His palm slides down to my hip, squeezing possessively, igniting a spark in my pussy.

"She doesn't have a choice," he growled, his voice low and firm. His lips brushed against my earlobe with a teasing slowness that made my eyes flutter shut.

"You're mine, and no one—not even my mother—will change that."

I bite my lip, desire pooling as his touch lingered.

"Do you have any other siblings besides Joanna and Nikolai?" I asked, realizing how little I knew about his personal life, craving to peel back his layers.

"Yes," he said simply, his fingers now trailing up my thigh, teasingly slow, making my breath hitch.

"And your dad?" I ventured, my voice cautious.

He paused, the silence heavy for a moment.

"He passed away a few years ago," he responded quietly. I turned in his arms to face him, guilt flickering in my chest.

"I'm sorry I asked," I whispered, searching his eyes.

He pulled me closer, his wet chest pressing against mine. Then, he kissed my cheek, his lips soft but possessive.

"Don't be sorry, Angel. You can ask me anything."

His voice was warm, but there's a hint of pain he doesn't let linger.

I shifted, straddling him now, the water sloshing around us.

"Who's the older twin?" I asked.

I felt him smile against my skin. "Who do you think is?"