"I was wrong, I was really wrong!"
Shen Mochen leaned against the bed, sitting on the ground trembling, his eyes slightly narrowed, his expression on his face unclear if it was joy or pain at this moment.
High above, Catherine's flawless feet, as white as snow, were playing with Shen Mochen, her gaze like looking at some kind of non-recyclable trash. Her appearance was angelically sacred, yet she was doing lewd things to the man. Even her toes were exceptionally agile, clearly not the first time doing this.
The pure jade-like feet were undeservingly tainted, but she had no intention of stopping, moving repeatedly. Her gaze was sharp as a knife.
It's hard to tell if this was a gift from a Fallen Angel or a punishment from an Angel.
Shen Mochen was really about to cry; he felt Catherine was bent on killing him. Enjoyment was one thing, but really dying under a woman's feet, he'd become a laughingstock for ages.
