Page 43 of Hot Mic, Cold Ice

Once the ice cube is melted, I release her peak from my mouth and move so that I'm straddling her thighs, pinning them in place. She is still able to wiggle around, but she isn't going to make it far with my full weight on her. I reach over to her bedside table and grab one of the candles with one hand and an ice cube with the other.

"Elliot, you are driving me crazy. What are you doing?" Ziggy moans from underneath me.

I chuckle because if this is driving her crazy, she has no idea what is coming next. Without warning, I drip hot wax over her belly button. She hisses and squirms to avoid the wax, but I hold her in place.

“That’s it, my little Anatife. Take that pleasure with its pain.” I say, quickly moving the ice cube over the hardening wax, finishing up with a kiss to each spot, and then repeating myself. Just to keep her on edge, every so often I massage the wax into her skin, using it how it's meant, but I don’t let her get too used to it. The juxtaposition of ice and wax on her skin drives her wild, the mix of sensations sending her into a frenzy. I get her body messy and desperately ready for me.

Moving quickly, I remove my pants and briefs before settling in between her thighs. I breathe in her scent like a primal animal. I rub two fingers through her slick folds, gently pressing into her quickly before bringing them back up to her clit, circling around it. I work her cunt with my fingers, bringing her right to the edge, only to throw her right over the edge of an orgasm by adding a third finger and curling them against her walls. Working her through her orgasm, keeping a strong, unrelenting pace, I build her tension up again.

“Elliot…. make me your slut. I’ve been such a good girl for you. Please let me soak your cock.” Ziggy pants out between my teasing.

I slide my fingers from her folds and give her a chaste kiss on her pussy before moving my hips back up to between her thighs.

"Open up your lips for me, Anatife. I want you to taste how sweet you are," I instruct her, slipping my fingers into her mouth. Her lips wrap around them and her tongue wipes them clean.

"Fuck, yes, Z," I groan as her mouth works my fingers.

Without hesitation I slide a condom on and sink my raging cock into her. She is so wet and ready for me that her walls grip me immediately. I pull my fingers from her mouth as I start to slip in and out of her. I move the scarf from her eyes, wanting to connect with her on a deeper level. To see her react to our bodies working together.

"Oh GOD, Elliot, I'm so close." She screams, "Harder, please." My girl begs as she rubs her clit into me with as much force as she can, chasing her orgasm with a desperate intensity.

"That's it, Anatife. How needy are you for an orgasm?" I ask her, pressing deep inside of her, moving my hips in a circular motion to push her over the edge. Her cunt grips me tightly as another orgasm starts to break.

I watch her intently as she screams out my name, pressing into each of my thrusts as her climax rocks through her. Watching her tips me over the edge, and my release rips through me as her nails draw down my back.

"Tabarnak! I think you drew blood, Zig." I say with a grin as I lean over her, my cock still inside her.

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" she says, smiling up at me, completely satiated.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of hot and cold, pleasure with a little bit of pain as passion courses through us. Our bodies intertwine, every touch, every gasp, deepening the unspoken connection growing between us, a connection that is becoming impossible to ignore.

Chapter 34

We are on a crazy hot streak. The Red Wolves have been winning games left and right. My performance on the ice has never been better. And it's causing more media attention, which is already intense, to grow exponentially. Every game seems to bring more reporters, more interviews, and more eyes on me. This newfound attention has its pros and cons. Due to the situation, there is a lot of publicity for my new podcast. The downside is that balancing all of it is a challenge—practices, games, recording, and the constant pressure to keep performing at such a high level. I'm juggling to keep everything together, and it's starting to take a toll.

Thankfully, I have Ziggy. She has become my rock, even if she doesn't realize it. Whenever the pressure mounts, and I feel like I'm about to crack, I lean on her. Our relationship is still undefined and secretive. In reality, it’s the ultimate secret and it works for us. At least, it works for me, for now. The sexis incredible, sure, but it’s more than that. She has a way of grounding me, of cutting through the noise and reminding me what really matters.

After our win tonight, I am floating on cloud nine. The locker room is on fire. Everyone is hyped up from the victory. I stand by my locker, towel around my neck, as the media swarms in. It’s always the same routine—questions about the game, about our strategy, about how I feel being at the center of this incredible streak.

"Do you think you can keep up this pace, Elliot?" one reporter asks, thrusting a microphone in my face.

I force a smile, the one I've perfected over these past few weeks. "We're taking it one game at a time. The team's been great, and we're just focused on maintaining our momentum."

As the questions keep coming, my mind migrates toward Ziggy. Wishing she was the reporter in here annoying the shit out of me. I can’t wait to see her, to answer her questions. To be able to unwind with her. She has a way of making everything else fade into the background. Even when I am peppered with questions and demands from all sides, she is the one thing that remains constant.

"You have New Orleans next week, are you at all concerned about their high-powered offense?" The reporter continues on.

"No, they are going to get smoked," I say with the same fake smile.

Her response is immediate, "Interesting. The New Orleans Gators are having a really great season."

Her reaction elicits a genuine laugh from me. "We are on a heater. Just wait."

Later that night, after the reporters finally leave and I finish my postgame shower, I pull out my phone and send Ziggy a quick text.

:Why are you not

here annoying the shit out

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