James lifted Ava's white floral dress, sliding her pale yellow cotton underwear down to her knees. His hands moved possessively over her smooth, firm hips, caressing her with lingering affection.
At some point, Ava had set aside the violin she had been holding. She turned toward him and wrapped her slender arms tightly around James's strong waist.
James kissed her greedily, savoring the softness of her lips until her delicate nose quivered and her cherry-red mouth parted in breathless moans. Only then did he reluctantly pull away from her full, sensual lips.
His large hand drifted downward along the curve of her rounded hips, finding warmth and softness beneath his touch. In the heightened emotion of what felt like a moment of impending separation, she felt an even sharper thrill.
Under his teasing touch, Ava's body trembled again and again. Her flushed lips let out soft, captivating sounds that rang in his ears like heavenly music—no less beautiful than the world-famous classical compositions she practiced on her violin.
James continued to explore the most sensitive parts of her body, freeing one hand to tug her blouse upward until it gathered at her shoulders. Ava obediently raised her arms, allowing him to remove it completely.
She wore a size 34C and preferred half-cup bras, leaving much of her pale skin visible above the lace. The fitted cups hugged her curves tightly, making her already firm figure appear even more striking.
Her abdomen was smooth and flat, without a trace of excess. At its center was a small, delicately curved navel, like a jewel set against porcelain skin.
James, familiar with every detail, found the clasp of her silky bra and gently unfastened it. Her body responded to the cool air as he drew her close again. His eyes burned with desire, like a traveler lost in the desert who suddenly glimpses a lush oasis. His breathing grew heavy; a raw, primitive longing surged through him.
He pressed her down onto the bed with urgency. No longer gentle, he kissed her deeply, fiercely, his passion overtaking restraint. Their lips met again and again, breath mingling as their emotions intensified.
Ava, too, became more eager, her body arching and twisting beneath him, her long hair fanning out across the sheets like dark silk. The atmosphere was charged, their movements increasingly desperate as desire eclipsed reason.
In Lotus Garden Residential Compound—an ordinary modern apartment complex common in many Chinese cities—a thin, hollow-eyed young man leaned against the hood of a BMW sedan. He checked his watch repeatedly, impatience written across his face.
"How long does it take to come down?" Henry muttered to himself. "If those clothes are old, just throw them away and buy new ones…"
The thought of Ava's alluring figure made him lick his dry lips unconsciously.
He took out a cigarette and placed it between his teeth. As he flicked his lighter, his movement froze. His gaze had fallen upon a beautiful woman walking toward him from the entrance of the compound. The flame of the lighter had already died, but he remained motionless.
His eyes followed her graceful steps until she nearly passed him. Only then did he come back to himself and call out softly, "Ms. Luna…"
Among all the married women he had seen, Luna was by far the most beautiful. Her fair skin carried a healthy glow. To call her naturally captivating would not be an exaggeration.
She stood about five foot five, with softly flushed cheeks and almond-shaped eyes that seemed perpetually misted with gentle thoughtfulness, like autumn water under a pale sky. Her brows were delicate, and her small red lips curved in a faint, ambiguous smile.
Today she wore a white chiffon skirt and a red cotton T-shirt. Beneath the light fabric, her poised figure moved subtly with each step. Her skirt traced the graceful curve of her hips, and her long, well-proportioned legs were bare, ending in a pair of simple white leather flats. There was a mature elegance in the sway of her waist—an understated allure that stirred restless thoughts in the observer.
Luna paused, looking at the young man who had called her "teacher," though he was clearly not her student. Her brows knit slightly as she asked in a soft voice, "And you are…?"
Henry had never taken her class at the university. He had called out impulsively, and now felt a trace of embarrassment. Clearing his throat, he replied, "I'm Ava's boyfriend.
My name is Henry."
A flicker of surprise passed through Luna's eyes. She knew her niece Ava's boyfriend—and it certainly was not the man standing before her, whose presence seemed tired and faintly decadent. The young man she remembered had been bright and optimistic.
Though doubts lingered in her mind, Luna did not voice them. She simply smiled politely, maintaining a careful distance.
Henry, seeing her smile, felt momentarily lightheaded, as if he had lost his sense of direction.
By the time he recovered, Luna had already walked away, leaving behind only the lingering impression of her elegant silhouette.
As her figure disappeared from sight, the warmth that had risen in Henry's body gradually cooled, turning into a quiet sense of emptiness.