Chloe Toy kneels up on a damask armchair in a cream-papered corner that feels plucked from a private boudoir, her blonde hair lit from above and lip bitten softly as she glances back over one shoulder. Petite and pert, she wears a sheer black babydoll threaded with sequins at the bust, sooty tights hugging every inch of her toned legs, and scarlet suede heels that punctuate the frame like a held breath. The babydoll hangs barely to the top of her thighs, and a slip of bare skin shows at the small of her back where the fabric parts.

A closer look finds Chloe turning into the camera, fingertips grazing her collarbone as the lace trim of the babydoll slides off one shoulder and reveals the curve of a rounded breast. By the later frames she has tipped onto her back across the chair, legs raised high in those inky tights with the red heels pointed at the ceiling, the babydoll peeled up over her stomach and a black thong hooked in her thumb. Her skin is luminous against the tapestry pattern, her smile sleepy and bright at once, the tease holding all the way to the last pointed toe.