Without missing a beat, Ina goes to check the video. Her breath hitches in her throat.
Kiara is sitting on her bathroom counter, her back arched. She’s turned over her left shoulder, her phone being held in her right hand so that she can capture as much of her reflection in the bathroom mirror as possible. She’s wearing a fiery red lingerie set, one that clings tight to her body, accentuating her curves. Ina feels hyper-focused, training her eyes on Kiara’s legs at first. She trails her intense gaze up, following the belt of her garter, pausing on Kiara’s ass. Fuck she looks so good.
Up and up, Ina’s eyes continue to trail upward, taking in the curve of Kiara’s hips, the dip of her waist, the smooth pale skin of her stomach, until she reaches Kiara’s chest. Ina loves how Kiara’s bra pushes the redhead’s chest up and together, the lacy material just transparent enough for Ina to swear she can see the outline of Kiara’s—
Movement catches Ina’s attention. She realizes that Kiara is moving her free hand up, tracing the figure of her hips, her waist, all the way up to the strap of her bra, hooking her thumb on the lacy strap. Kiara gives a smirk, bites her lip, winks, and slowly, oh-so-slowly pulls down the strap of her bra so her cup just barely reveals the darker skin of her nipple. The video ends there.
