Layers of rich velvet and restrictive ribbon tangled up tightly under her ribs, exposing absolutely everything beneath. The sheer, frilly white stockings still clung to her soft thighs—until his rough fingers dug in.
He looked down at her exposed state, his eyes dark and hungry.
Then—he ripped.
The delicate stocking split with a sharp, harsh sound, tearing straight through the intricate lace at her upper thigh. Fine threads snapped violently under his brutal grip, curling against her soft skin as he unceremoniously peeled the ruined fabric away, revealing her bare, vulnerable thigh beneath—pale, beautifully flushed, and faintly trembling.
"You're completely insane—" she snapped, her small fists pounding furiously against his shoulder.
He effortlessly grabbed her other flailing wrist and slammed it down against the mattress above her head.
"I'm perfectly focused," he growled, the vibration settling deep in her belly. "You're the one busy pretending."
