Chapter 4

A powerful surge of stimulation and pleasure coursed through Catherine's body as her fingers tightly gripped his hair.

The sound of his sucking mingled with the electric sensation jolting through her, drawing a soft cry from her lips. Catherine's toes curled in ecstasy as her body gave way, sliding downward.

Suddenly, her bottom found support, lifting her up. Philip's hand had slipped into her underwear, gliding along her curves. His middle finger moved along her sex, brushing against her sensitive clitoris.

She gasped for air immediately, the wetness between her legs intensifying.

His hand became slick with her moisture, his fingers thoroughly wet.

"So wet?" he whispered in her ear. "My hand is soaked."

Her face flushed crimson as her hands rested on his shoulders, uncertain whether to let go or hold tighter.

But he gave her no time to think as he slipped a finger inside her.

Her body tensed like a drawn bow, and then he added a second finger.

She trembled uncontrollably, and the fingers probing deep inside her made Philip's scalp tingle with tension.

So tight!

Philip's eyes flashed with dark desire as he drew a sharp breath, attempting to pull back, but she held him tighter.

"Relax, relax," he coaxed softly in her ear. His fingers, unable to withdraw, probed deeper. After several forceful explorations, her legs began to tremble uncontrollably. Philip grabbed her hands that were wrapped around his neck and placed them on his belt.

"Undo it."

In the dim light, his gaze was predatory, ready to devour her at any moment.

Philip's two long fingers remained inside her as she trembled while unbuckling his belt. As she pulled down the zipper, a hard, thick penis sprang out, hitting her hand.

It was hot, almost melting her.

Catherine trembled even more violently. This was her first time, and although she had mentally prepared herself, his massive size instinctively frightened her.

Her underwear was silently pushed aside as Philip impatiently withdrew his fingers. His thick penis pressed against her wet, sensitive entrance, slowly pushing in.

The pain of being stretched and filled made her eyes widen suddenly, a low cry escaping her lips.

But he continued to push deeper, expanding her, embedding himself within.

She clung to him tightly, immobilizing him as Philip whispered in her ear to relax.

He gently kissed her lips, his tongue entering her mouth. Under this seductive kiss, she gradually relaxed. But Philip suddenly thrust forward, firmly embedding himself inside her.

"Mr. Foster!"

Philip remained motionless, giving her time to adjust. "Call me something else," he said, his voice husky.

"What?"

Philip nibbled her ear. "Say my name."

For some reason, she bit her lower lip, finding it difficult to speak.

But he had ways to make her say it. His fingers slid along the crevice of her buttocks, caressing their connected bodies, teasing gently.

Then he gave a slight push.

She let out a cry, her toes curling tightly.

"Philip, Philip!"

Gentle yet timid, it sounded sweet nonetheless.

A wave of conquest spread through his mind as Philip hooked her legs and thrust forcefully into her.

Under his relentless rhythm, her whimpers ceased abruptly.

He bent to kiss her, the sound of flesh colliding and sucking filled the room.

Her body began to shake violently, the muscles inside her contracting and pulsing around him.

In the dim light, she was drenched in sweat, her face buried in his neck, emitting soft, pleading moans. Amid the atmosphere of pain and pleasure intertwined, she heard him ask near her ear.

"Thirsty?"

Before she could respond, Philip was carrying her around the room, looking for water.

With each step he took, her body sank and was pulled up again, his hot penis penetrating deeper, as if to pry open her soul.

In that short distance, she reached her climax.

"Is that all you've got?" Philip said with a low laugh near her ear.

Her gaze was unfocused, unable to respond.

But her eyes remained moist, filled with irresistible charm.

Philip felt himself expanding even more inside her.

Without hesitation, he took water from the refrigerator.

Holding the water, he pressed her against the dining table.

Catherine's ankles rested on his shoulders, her body bent into a W shape.

The position was both lewd and blush-inducing. She drank the water he fed her, her open sex bearing his relentless thrusts.

All her cries were swallowed by his mouth.

The bottle somehow fell onto the carpet, water spilling everywhere, mixing with the droplets splashed during their uninhibited activity.

Her cries of both pain and pleasure echoed. Inadvertently looking down, she saw his thick penis plunging into her body at a speed too fast to discern.

Catherine averted her gaze, her face flushing red, heart racing, but Philip spread her thighs even wider, his fingers brushing over her trembling lips.

She was like a fully ripened peach, revealing its juicy seam. Her underwear wasn't completely removed, half-covering her, with his penis nestled inside, her sex instinctively clinging tightly to him.

The underwear was in the way, already torn. Philip lifted her again.

On the sofa, against the refrigerator, even on the kitchen counter.

Catherine felt as though he was a man experiencing sex for the first time, completely insatiable.

Philip kissed her, grabbing her buttocks, pressing her against his pelvis with incredible strength.

Catherine was lost in a daze, her eyes misty and unfocused.

Her legs spread wide, enduring his relentless impacts, convulsing.

His tip penetrated deep inside her, teasing, then retreating, the repeated impacts like millions of ants crawling over her. Her suppressed cries transformed into a primal impulse, like a cat in heat, sharp yet delicate.

As if urging him to work harder, deeper.

"Philip, slow down."

Was she truly a siren?

Philip looked down at her, her face flushed, watery eyes both enticing and intoxicated, completely his.

Although it was her first time, she already knew how to attract him. Her tight embrace drove him crazy, his eyes reddening with desire.

He pressed her against the sofa, spreading her legs at an impossible angle, stabbing dozens of times before burying himself deep inside her.

Catherine could only describe the entire experience as "exhilarating."

Her body felt as though it had weathered a storm, pain and pleasure intertwined, leaving her intoxicated.

The sound of a shower came from the bathroom as Catherine lazily sat up in bed.

Her smooth skin gleamed in the light.

She casually pulled a blanket over herself, covering the private, tempting parts of her body.

Her movements were languid, yet carried a unique charm.

She reached for the phone on the bedside table. The screen lit up, showing a notification for a new anonymous email.

Catherine pursed her lips with interest, not rushing to open the video. Instead, she took a pack of feminine cigarettes from the bedside drawer, lit one, took a deep drag, and exhaled smoke rings that slowly dissipated in the air.

Only then did she leisurely open the email attachment, prepared to savor its contents.

In the photo, James was shirtless, his body covered with marks of passion.

She scrolled to the bottom of the email to find this message: [He doesn't love you at all. Why are you still clinging to him?]