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"You," she breathes out, looking at me like she could devour me whole.
I take that as permission to grab two more ice cubes. Placing one on each side of her pussy, I watch as she shivers at the coldness against her inner thighs. With a slow smirk on my lips, I grind my hips against hers, pushing both inside simultaneously. She jerks forward with a shuddering moan, biting down on her bottom lip as she tries to hold in the pleasure threatening to consume her whole. Her body tenses around mine as she adjusts to the unexpected chill invading every part of her body. Lifting myself slightly, I press a third cube against her entrance before slamming back inside her tight cunt.
A feral growl escapes my lips as I feel the cold ice around my cock, contrasting sharply with the heat of her.
Her breath hitches as the cubes melt and mix with her warmth. I watch with rapt fascination as they trail down her legs, tiny droplets of water mixing with sweat and desire. I groan at the sight, my cock twitching inside her.
She clenches around me when I start moving again, long, slow strokes designed to drive her mad with need. Her nails dig into my back, and I grin at the spike of pleasure-pain that zings through my body.
"More," she gasps, a plea and a command all in one.
I speed up, rough and hard. My hips slam against hers, driving deep into her tightness. She's a little slice of heaven on earth, hot and cold and everything in between. She's mine. My perfect little slice of heaven.
I feel the ice melting around my cock as I move in and out of her body, an intense sensation that topples me over the edge. The cold makes my movements slicker, harsher—more beastly—but she doesn't pull away. She fucking loves it, pulling me closer instead.
Her eyes flash with pleasure each time I hit home, pushing deeper than before. Her lips part in a silent scream as another orgasm rips through her, her body convulsing beneath mine in beautiful surrender.
I groan as she clenches around me like a vise, milking every last drop from me.
"Goddamn, you're perfect," I pant into her ear as we both ride out our orgasms together. My heart thunders in my chest as I rain kisses across her face, unable to stop myself. My hands shake with the force of the emotion coursing through me…emotion I've tried like hell not to feel. And yet I feel it anyway.
For her.
"You're pretty perfect, too," she whispers back, her voice thick with exhaustion. She cuddles into me, burying her face in my chest. A content sigh escapes her lips and I pull the covers over us, holding her close.
For the first time in a long time, my heart feels light, unburdened by my job and all the bullshit that comes with it. I don't have to ask why. I know. It's her. That should fucking terrify me. But right now, in this moment, it feels pretty fucking perfect.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter, coming to a dead stop in the kitchen when I spot Mila standing at the island. She's in that fucking bikini again. The same one that sent me over the edge the day before yesterday.
I'm not sure if I should be thanking whoever made the goddamn thing or if I should hunt the bastard down and burn the factory to the ground. It's indecent. Rather, she's indecent in it.
And all I want to do is slip that little triangle of fabric aside and thrust my dick between her legs until she's wearing me instead.
She glances over her shoulder at me, lighting up like the sun when she sees me standing in the doorway. "Hey. Want a cookie?" She waves one toward me like a peace offering.
I'd rather eat her again.
"No. Come here."
She must hear something in my tone because her smile slips. "What's wrong?" she asks, slowly turning to face me.
"Come here." I crook a finger, beckoning her closer.
She slowly places her cookie on the island and then slinks toward me, her tits jiggling in that goddamn tiny top.
My mouth waters, my dick turning to steel.
She stops a couple of feet from me, looking up at me with those big green eyes of hers. Her lips part in anticipation, and I know she's expecting something hot and dirty to come out of my mouth. But I can't seem to form any coherent thought other than how much I want to taste every inch of her.
"Where'd you get the bikini, baby?"
She glances down at herself and then back up at me. "What?"
"The bikini," I say again. "Where'd you get it?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"Because I'm trying to decide if I should send a thank you note or burn down the fucking factory." The confession comes out casually, but I certainly don't feel casual. Every inch of me is on fire, burning with need for her. I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I fucked her raw yesterday. And last night. And again this morning. She needs a break. "Do you have any idea what you do to me when I look at you?"
