Samuel Johnson leisurely began to undress, his one hand controlling Amanda Smith while the other reached for the buttons. He glanced at Amanda's pale face and let out a disdainful snort, "What's with the act? Clearly, you're looking forward to it too."
He genuinely believed that that night it was Amanda herself who had climbed into his bed.
Amanda was in a difficult position, unable to defend herself. Even if she tried to explain, the man would never believe her.
Her voice was somewhat weak, "Samuel, don't do this, treating me like this, how can you be fair to Tasha Moore..."
Samuel Johnson paused in his actions.
He looked up at Amanda and patted her face, "How can you compare yourself to Tasha? Don't flatter yourself too much; this situation is actually a bigger loss for me, isn't it?"
In his mind, Amanda's status was indeterminably low. How could such a despicable woman even think of feeling sorry for his girlfriend?
Thinking this way, Samuel felt completely justified.
