Deep In The Red

Octavia Red's bright red fishnets hug every curve, head to toe, the mesh working overtime. Vince Karter stares like he's paying her rent. She laughs under her breath, hips shifting just enough to make the invitation clear—grab her already. So he does. The fabric stretches, thin red threads digging into skin, then giving way with a slow, promising rip. She gasps as cool air hits where the mesh breaks. Fingers follow, greedy, diving past the tear and inside her. Octavia arches, fishnets still clinging but useless now, ripped open exactly where they need to be. The gold-mouthed bastard grins against her thigh, and she grinds back like she's paying a debt, not asking for change.