Page 42 of Selfish Desires

I froze, not out of fear but the sheer delight in his words. The dominant tone in his voice was a stark contrast to the tender man who’d been feeding me stew moments ago. “I’ll be good, Vincent,” I breathed out, barely audible.

“Good girl.” His hand released my thigh, the absent pressure making me whimper.

He dipped the spoon into the bowl, fished out a cube of ice, and lifted it up for me to see. The cold condensation dripped from it as he held it an inch from my heaving chest.

He smirked, letting a single drop of water fall onto my nipple. I jolted at the contact, yelping out a surprised “oh” as the cold spread through my chest and straight to my soaked pussy.

The drips turned to a stream as he glided the cube down my breast, swirling it around my nipple, down to my stomach, making me wriggle under him. His dark eyes were on mine the whole time, an amused spark dancing in them. He trailed the melting cube, stopping right on my clit, pressing into the tight bud, causing my cunt to clench at nothing.

“S-S-stop,” I stuttered, but Vincent didn't heed my protests.

“If you need me to stop, you know what to say,” he murmured, the wicked grin on his face spreading. “We're just starting to have some fun.”

The ice cube sent shockwaves through me each time it grazed my hardened nipple or teased my clit, but it also brought an exhilarating rush of sensations, a thrill I was beginning to crave more.

The ice cube was now almost melted, a mere sliver between his fingers. He trailed it down my body one last time before replacing it with the cold metallic spoon from the bowl.

I gasped as the cold metal made contact with my overheated skin. Starting from my collarbone, he dragged it down slowly, dipping slightly into the valley between my breasts before continuing its journey over my stomach. I squirmed under the unexpected sensation but arched into his touch anyway. The spoon slipped from his fingers; whether intentionally, it landed with a harsh clank against the wood floor. Vincent wasted no time diving his hand into the ice bowl, grabbing a cube, and inserting it into his mouth. I watched, mesmerized, as he twirled the frozen square around his tongue, shoving it into his cheek pocket before slowly extracting it through his lips. Vincent adjusted his thick, hard cock, unzipping his jeans to relieve the pressure from being restrained. He held the cube in his hand for a second until he plunged the ice straight into my warm, dripping cunt.

My gasp was swallowed by Vincent’s ice-cold mouth crashing against mine, his cold tongue pushing through my parted lips. The frigid shock of the ice cube inside my pussy sent my body into a wave of spasms, but Vincent's mouth ate up my startled cries, his tongue tangling with mine. He started to move the melting ice inside me, drawing circles around the intimate walls once, twice, and then he pulled the ice out only to push it back in slowly.

“Oh God,” I cried, thrashing beneath him, pleading to wrap my fingers around his thick cock. I was close, but as much as I wanted to come, I wanted to unravel around him buried deep inside me.

His fingers stirred me from within, alternating between cold and warmth as he replaced the partially melted ice with a fresh one. The relentless pace of this game made my senses reel, but I clung onto Vincent's bicep, my nails digging into his skin for support.

“That’s it, baby.” His warm breath coated my lips. “You should see how fucking sexy you look. Your pussy feels so good gripping my fingers. Your juices are melting the ice in my hand.” His lips planted a lazy kiss against my mouth, Vincent’s tongue swiping mine. “If only you could feel how good your needy cunt feels wrapped around my fingers.”

“Please,” I begged, desperate for him. “I need you.”

“What do you need? Use your words.” This time, he pushed the melting cube deeper into my cunt, leaving it there as his fingers slid out of me.

I tried to speak, but the cold left in my sex was too much, and instead, I tipped my head back, releasing a desperate moan. The only thing that snapped me out of it was Vincent’s fingers grabbing my jaw and redirecting my gaze until we locked eyes.

“Use. Your. Words.” His cold baby blues warned me to listen.

“I need you inside me. Now.”

“That’s all I needed to hear you say.” Vincent retreated from the bed, sending a jolt of panic through me. Where was he going? But, as I sat up too quickly, he got on his knees in front of my spread legs, hooked his hands behind my knees, spreading me wide, my glistening pussy on display for him. “Push the ice out of that sweet cunt,” he ordered.

I did as he instructed, feeling the ice cube slip from my body. My thighs were quivering, and my body shaking with anticipation. Just as the ice was about to fall past my entrance, Vincent dipped his head between my legs, catching the cube with his tongue, and pushed it back in.

“You taste so fucking good,” Vincent rasped as he began fucking me with his tongue and the ice simultaneously.

The cold of the ice mixed with his hot saliva drove me crazy, so intense that it was almost unbearable. I could barely see through the fog of pleasure, and I didn't want to. All I wanted was to feel his thick cock inside me.

Vincent took his time, though, teasing me further by alternating between pushing the ice cube deeper into my folds with his tongue or letting it slide out only to be pushed back again. His hands held my hips, fingertips digging into the skin as he devoured me.

“Please, I’m so close.” The words slipped from my mouth as I squeezed my breasts, twisting each nipple between my desperate fingers.

“So close to what? Use your words,” Vincent demanded before latching onto my clit between his teeth.

“Please, please,” I begged, my vision turned blurry. “I need to come around your cock. Please put your cock in me.”

Vincent pulled his mouth away from my cunt, my juices pooling below me on the sheets. He stood, moving away from the bed. The now familiar pang of panic shot through me again. But it didn't last long as he returned after peeling off his pants, freeing his thick, hard dick. I spotted the foil wrapper in his hand, and just as he tore the corner off, I sat straight up.

“No, don’t.” I reached for the hand that held the condom. “I want to feel all of you. I trust you.” As the words left my mouth, I couldn’t stop the question entering my head: did I really trust him?

Vincent furrowed his brow slightly, the corner of the wrapper frozen between his fingers. His gaze bore into mine, searching to see if I meant what I said.

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