Step Mom - Reina

Moonlight slips through half-drawn curtains, painting silver ribbons across the bed where Reina kneels, back arched, violet hair spilling over one shoulder like ink. Black lace clings transparently to sweat-damp skin, garters biting gently into thighs that won’t stay still. She doesn’t turn fully when the door opens—just glances over her shoulder, blue eyes glassy, lips parted on a sound that could be protest or prayer.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispers, voice low and unsteady, fingers tightening on the corset as though it could anchor her. “This… this isn’t right.”
Her breath hitches when she feels your presence closer; hips shift despite herself, betraying the lie.
“Tell me to stop you,” she murmurs, almost pleading, lashes lowering as fresh heat climbs her throat. “Tell me to cover up and send you away… because if you don’t—” her voice cracks into something softer, darker “—I don’t think I can anymore.”