Even though it wasn't their first kiss anymore, that tingling sensation still surged through her like lightning.
Elena Shen's long black lashes trembled uncontrollably. It was hard to tell if it was panic or helplessness—her breath came in broken fragments.
Ethan Jiang kept his eyes open, watching every flicker of her reaction.
Her soft lips were pried open by a kiss that was both gentle and commanding. Elena's lashes shivered violently again.
Instinctively, her body tried to retreat.
The grip Ethan had maintained on her wrists—originally to keep her from slipping away—had been released at some point, allowing her to back away freely now.
She stumbled until the back of her leg hit the edge of the leather sofa, and she dropped onto the seat.
From standing to sitting.
Even more defenseless now.
Forced to tilt her head up, the warmth of his palm at the nape of her neck was impossible to ignore. Her slender waist sunk into the cushions, curving into a graceful arch—until his large, warm hand wrapped fully around her soft middle.
His deep, possessive kisses left her mind swimming, dizzy with the loss of air. She didn't even notice her phone slipping from her palm, teetering at the edge of the sofa.
Just before it tumbled onto the carpet, Ethan's hand reached out and caught it with practiced ease.
Earlier, when Elena had scrambled to leave the bedroom, clutching her phone in flustered panic, her fingerprint had unintentionally unlocked the screen.
Now, the display is frozen on a paused video frame.
Ethan hadn't been particularly interested in what was on her phone. Girls her age had their own private corners and secret thoughts, and he had never felt the need to pry. He had no intention of asserting control. If it made her happy, he was content.
Even when he'd entered the room and seen her frantically tapping her screen before turning it off, her guilty nerves radiating like neon lights—he hadn't pressed the issue.
Half-cradling her in his arms, Ethan moved to set the phone aside. But by accident, his knuckle brushed the edge of the screen.
The video began to play.
Just as he was leaning in to kiss the corner of her mouth again, his movement froze.
His peripheral vision had caught something—explicit and striking—on the screen.
He stared at it for a few seconds, a crooked smirk slowly curving at the corner of his lips.
Then he turned his gaze back to the girl lying beneath him.
Elena's eyes shimmered like misted glass, still dazed from his kisses, her breathing light and unsteady.
Her waist ached where his arm had been holding her too tightly.
Her heart was pounding wildly. As she saw him looking at her, she pressed her swollen lips together and tried to rise, bracing against his arm.
But the moment she lifted her waist, his hand seized her again.
Then, in a slow, unreadable voice, he said:
"Elena… that night, were you… not satisfied?"
"…?"
She blinked, confused.
Until she saw him pick up the phone beside her, still playing that risqué video.
"I held back because I thought it was your first time," he said softly, meeting her gaze as he lifted the phone. "But if you can handle more…"
"That changes everything."
"…?!"
Her mind blanked.
Her pupils contracted visibly, as if struck by lightning.
A sharp ringing exploded in her ears.
Before she could even react consciously, instinct took over—she lunged forward, trying to snatch the phone and bury it deep into the couch cushions.
But Ethan wasn't about to let her get away this time.
As she reached for it, he calmly lifted the phone high—just out of her reach.
Elena was panicked beyond reason now.
Her whole face contorted in distress, like a kid caught red-handed by the most feared parent, watching something she absolutely wasn't supposed to.
The mortification, the sheer horror of being caught like this—she wanted to disappear from the face of the earth.
Unfortunately, Ethan had no plans to let her off easily tonight.
With the air of a gentleman scholar and the mischief of a scoundrel, he watched her screen intently—turning up the volume for good measure.
Unable to retrieve the phone, Elena buried her burning face into a sofa cushion.
But even that couldn't block the seductive sounds now leaking into her ears.
The sensual noise dragged on for what felt like forever—until, finally, after a full minute or two, another voice cut through the haze:
"So this is what you were watching just now?"
"You really weren't satisfied that night?"
"N-no,That's not it—I didn't!" she stammered, unable to play dead any longer. If she didn't stop him from misunderstanding, she'd never be able to face him again.
She pulled down the cushion slightly, revealing half of her flushed face and a pair of watery, desperate eyes. The other half stayed buried, shielded.
Her gaze kept darting towards the phone.
She clearly wanted to snatch it back.
Fast.
"It's not mine! I didn't look for it—it was just… it popped up randomly—this isn't—"
Before she could finish her bubbling defense, Ethan calmly tapped the pause button.
Finally, the indecent moaning faded into silence.
She thought, perhaps, he believed her.
She fell quiet, her gaze drifting from the screen onto his face—
Only to see him reach down, tug the cushion completely out of her hands, and toss it aside.
Then, as if changing the subject entirely, he asked:
"The housekeeper told me you already had dinner, right?"
Elena was stunned by the abrupt switch in topic.
But her instincts warned her not to answer—not until she got that phone back.
Ethan leaned in again, and before she could retreat, he scooped her into his arms—with the phone—and carried her straight into the bathroom.
The door shut behind them with a soft click.
At the same time, the sound of the video restarted and the man's amused voice filled the space:
"Since you've already eaten… why don't we start right where your video went?"
Elena's protests were drowned by the sounds of the screen.
The video lasted two full hours.
From the bathroom to the bed wrapped in their wedding linens, the night dragged on until the very last second of the video played.
Just as the screen went black, Ethan picked up her phone—
And tapped on a new link.
Elena, half-dead from exhaustion, saw his move.
Panicking, she ignored the aching in her waist and lunged for the covers, trying to bury herself under the quilt.
But she was a second too slow.
Before she could pull the blanket over her head, a long, slender hand reached over—
And pulled it right back down.