Chapter 4
A surge of intense stimulation and pleasure washed over her, her fingers gripping tightly into his hair.
The sound was like a sweet caress brushing over Philip's cerebral cortex. He gathered her breasts, pressing them together, and lowered his head to take them fully into his mouth.
The sound of sucking mingled with an electric tingling sensation, and she let out a soft cry, her fingers instinctively tightening in his hair.
Philip, however, pressed further, repeatedly teasing the tender red tips and full breasts in his mouth.
When his teeth lightly grazed her nipple, Catherine's toes curled in ecstasy, her body unable to hold up, sliding downward.
A sudden support came at her hips, lifting her back up.
Philip's hand had already slipped into her underwear, gliding down her curves, his middle finger tracing along her pussy, brushing over her sensitive clit.
She immediately gasped for air, her body becoming even more drenched.
His hand was slick with her wetness, his fingers soaked.
He whispered in her ear, "Easy now, you've got my hand all wet."
Her face flushed hotly, her hands on his shoulders, unsure whether to let go or hold on tighter.
But he gave her no time to think, slipping one finger inside her.
Her body tensed like a drawn bow, and then he added another finger.
She was already trembling uncontrollably, and the fingers delving deep inside her made Philip's scalp tingle with the tight sensation.
So tight!
Philip's eyes gleamed darkly, sucking in a breath as he tried to pull back, but she gripped him even tighter.
"Relax, relax."
He coaxed softly in her ear, but when his fingers couldn't withdraw, he thrust them deeper. After several forceful probes, her legs shook uncontrollably, and Philip took her hands, which were clinging to his neck, and placed them on his belt.
"Undo it."
In the dim light, his gaze was almost predatory, ready to devour her.
Catherine, with his two long fingers still inside her, shakily undid his belt. As the zipper came down, a hard, thick cock sprang out, hitting her hand.
It was scalding, almost melting her.
Catherine trembled even more intensely. It was her first time, and though she had mentally prepared herself, the sheer size of him, about to enter her, made her instinctively afraid.
Her underwear had been silently pushed aside, and Philip, too impatient to wait, withdrew his fingers, the tip of him pressing against her.
The thick cock nudged against her wet, sensitive entrance, inching inside.
The pain of being stretched and filled made her eyes widen suddenly, a low cry escaping her lips.
Yet he kept pushing deeper, spreading her, embedding himself.
As if he intended to drive himself all the way in.
She clenched around him, making it impossible for him to move, and Philip coaxed in her ear to relax, promising to ease out a little if she did.
He lightly kissed her lips, his tongue slipping into her mouth, and under the seductive kiss, she gradually relaxed. But Philip thrust in fully, embedding himself firmly inside her.
"Mr. Foster!"
Her fingers raked across his back, her accusatory tone both delicate and alluring.
Philip stayed still, giving her time to adjust.
In a hoarse voice, he said, "Call me something else."
"What?"
Philip nibbled her ear, "Call my name."
For some reason, she found it hard to say, biting her lower lip.
But he had ways to make her say it. His fingers slid along the seam of her hips, brushing their joined bodies and lightly teasing.
Then he gave a shallow thrust.
She let out a sharp cry, her toes curling tightly.
"Philip, Philip!"
Soft and timid, it was indeed sweet to hear.
A wave of conquest spread through his mind, and Philip hooked her legs, thrusting into her fiercely.
Her whimpers shattered under his relentless rhythm.
He lowered his head to kiss her, his thick cock thrusting in and out of her body, the sound of flesh colliding mixing with the sounds of sucking, filling the entire room.
Her body began to tremble violently, her inner muscles contracting and pulsing around him.
Philip, however, carried her around the room twice, drenched in sweat in the dim light, while she buried her face in his neck, letting out soft, pleading moans. Amid the mix of pain and pleasure, she heard him ask in her ear.
"Thirsty?"
Before she could process it, Philip was already carrying her around the room, looking for water to drink.
With each step, her body sank lower, only to be pulled back up by him, his heated cock thrusting deeper, as if prying open her very soul.
In that short distance, she climaxed.
A low chuckle sounded in her ear as Philip said, "That's all you've got?"
Her gaze was unfocused, unable to respond.
But her eyes, still wet, were filled with an irresistible allure.
Philip felt himself swell even more inside her.
He grabbed water from the fridge without pausing.
With the water in hand, he pressed her onto the dining table and continued.
Catherine's legs were spread impossibly wide, her ankles resting on his shoulders, her body bent into a W shape.
The position was both lascivious and blush-inducing. She drank the water he fed her, her open core enduring his relentless thrusts.
All her cries were swallowed into his mouth.
The bottle fell to the carpet at some point, water spilling everywhere, mingling with the droplets from their fervent movements, utterly unrestrained.
Clinging to his neck, she let out cries that were both pained and pleasured. Glancing down unintentionally, she saw his thick shaft plunging into her, moving so fast it was a blur.
Catherine looked away, her face burning and heart racing, but Philip spread her thighs further, his fingers brushing her trembling lips.
She was like a perfectly ripe peach, revealing a succulent seam, her underwear still not fully removed, half-covering her as his cock nestled inside, her pussy instinctively clinging to him.
The stark contrast of their bodies was so provocative it made his eyes burn.
The underwear, now in the way, was torn apart with a rip, and Philip lifted her again.
On the sofa, the fridge, even the kitchen counter.
Catherine felt as if he were a man experiencing sex for the very first time, utterly insatiable.
Philip kissed her, gripping her hips and pressing her against his pelvis with incredible force.
Catherine was already dazed, her eyes misty and unfocused.
Her legs spread wide, spasming as she took his relentless thrusts.
His tip pressed deep into her core, teasing and retreating, the repeated assault like a thousand ants crawling over her. Her suppressed cries turned into something primal, like a cat in heat, sharp and delicate.
As if urging him to go harder, deeper.
"Philip, slow down."
So she really was a vixen, wasn't she?
Philip looked down at her, her face flushed red, her watery eyes both seductive and intoxicated, completely his.
Though it was her first time, she already knew how to draw him in, her tight grip driving him wild, his eyes reddening with desire.
He pressed her onto the sofa, spreading her legs at an impossible angle, thrusting dozens of times before burying himself deep inside her.
The entire experience could only be described by Catherine as exhilarating.
Her body felt like it had been through a storm, pain and pleasure intertwining, leaving her intoxicated.
The sound of the shower came from the bathroom, and Catherine lazily sat up in bed.
Her smooth skin glowed under the light.
She casually pulled the nearby blanket over herself, covering the intimate, alluring parts of her body.
Her movements were languid yet carried a unique charm.
She reached for her phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a new anonymous email notification.
Catherine curled her lips with interest, not rushing to open the video. Instead, she took a pack of women's cigarettes from the nightstand drawer, lit one, and took a drag, exhaling smoke rings that drifted slowly into the air.
Only then did she leisurely open the email attachment, ready to savor it.
The photo showed James, shirtless, covered in ambiguous marks, clearly the result of intense activity.
She scrolled to the bottom of the email and saw the message: [He doesn't love you at all. Are you still going to cling to him?]