It started as something innocent…
If anything Ebony Rivers did could ever be called innocent.
She was alone in her bedroom — soft light pouring in through half-closed blinds, skin like silk, curves carved by gods with filthy minds.
The mirror had been wiped clean. The playlist was low and slow. And she was feeling herself.
Click.
One leg propped on the edge of the bed.
Lips parted.
Hand resting just between her thighs.
Click.
Back arched.
A perfect tease — bare, golden, glowing.
She wasn’t shy. Oh no.
Ebony knew exactly what she was doing.
She turned, slowly, angling her phone, capturing the fullness of her breasts as they hung deliciously heavy. The flash lit up the room — moment after moment — like sinful lightning strikes.
Then she heard it.
The door.
The creak.
The pause.
A breath that wasn’t hers.
She didn’t flinch.
She didn’t cover up.
Instead…
She smiled.
Without turning around.
“You gonna stand there like a good boy,” she purred, “or come see what happens when you walk in on a goddess?”
There was silence.
Thick. Hot. Heavy.
She reached up slowly, hand trailing down her side, and clicked the shutter again — this time knowing he was in the frame too.
His stunned reflection just behind hers, mouth parted, eyes wide.
“You caught me,” she said, finally turning, letting him see all of her — hips swaying, breasts proud, not a trace of shame on her skin.
“But let’s get one thing straight…”
She stepped forward, chest grazing his, phone still in her hand.
“If you think I didn’t want you to see me… you haven’t been paying attention.”
She pulled his hand to her waist.
Placed the phone in it.
Leaned up, lips ghosting over his.
“Your turn to take the pictures, baby.
Make sure you get my good side…”
And just like that —
the game she pretended to lose…
she won.
Again.
Did you feel that heat, baby?
Ebony Rivers isn’t done with you yet.
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Because goddesses like her don’t just get caught —
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