My fingers grasp it, and the scent of your
moisture is wafted toward my nostrils along with the product of the
vineyards. XXX Perhaps…? Uncertainty wafts across your features…vacillation. Have you forgotten so soon?”
Your voice rasps, as yet another spate of frozen droplets assault my flesh,
this time lower, between my outstretched thighs. “Mercy.”
My back arches, a deceptive illusion of freedom, only to be taken
away…bound by a silken restraint…and then I hear it…the delicate
clink of ice in my fine crystal ice bucket. “I know it has become yours as well. Restrained by your fingers, woven brutally through the locks of my hair, I
extend the warm, pink digit from between my lips and feel the salty taste
of your hardened member against its surface.
