Novel & Cerita Frozen Smut

he offered. “What is smetana again?” I whispered to Ryker. “It’s creme fraiche or sour crime,” he whispered against my skin while pretending to give me a kiss on my temple. I was terrible at remembering these names but I didn’t want to hurt Dmitry’s feelings by thinking that I didn’t consider them important enough to remember or anything like that. Ryker, on the other hand, was very knowledgeable. Probably because once upon a time, he had lived in Russia with Dmitry.

**Chapter 220: Frozen Submission** Brooks Ten years after our vow renewal, the backyard rink in Chicago was still the heart of our world. The boards had been repainted twice. The lights upgraded. The ice bore the marks of countless skates — our children’s, our grandchildren’s, and the occasional visiting player who needed a quiet place to breathe. But the feeling remained the same: this was sacred ground. The place where pain had been transformed, over and over again, into something beautiful.

Her cunt was swollen and glistening, a thick string of arousal already leaking down to her ass. “Look how fucking wet you are,” Yusuf muttered, sliding two thick fingers inside her easily. Fatima cried out, her walls clenching greedily around his digits. “I’m always this wet when I think about haram cock,” she gasped, riding his fingers shamelessly. “Please… I need your dick. I’ve been dying to suck it.”

Smoke. Him. Her chopsticks clattered onto her plate. The pad Thai suddenly looked like something designed by a sadist who wanted to watch her pretend to function while falling apart internally. "Raven?" Elena was staring at her. "You just went completely white. Are you sick?" Raven couldn't answer. Couldn't explain. Couldn't say the name of the man whose scent was currently overriding every rational thought in her brain. The mate bond dormant for seven years, buried beneath layers of human existence and deliberate forgetting was trying to activate.

Just profiles, brief descriptions, and the occasional meeting if the conversation went well. I scrolled through a few profiles without much interest. Most of them were from nearby towns or travelers passing through. Then one profile caught my attention. No face picture. Just a photo taken from behind—a man sitting on a balcony somewhere snowy, a glass in his hand. Dark coat. Broad shoulders. The image had been taken carefully. The username read - NorthBound. His description was short. Someone who preferred quiet conversations. Books. Hiking. I leaned back against the headboard, staring at the screen for a moment before tapping the match button.

"Maybe you snuck him the love potion. You’ve crushed on him forever." Aubrey shushed. "Don’t drag me into the rumor pool too." Nadia continued teasing her and Aubrey got more flustered. Callie watched Nicholas at his table as he finished his breakfast. She didn’t know why the love potion didn’t affect him. Morgan Le Faye’s potions were known to be foolproof. Something had happened when she diluted it. Nicholas could have natural immunity. It was bothering her not knowing. It was time to get into his head.

He then went to the cupboard and pulled out some sweets I usually didn't let him eat. He munched happily while watching cartoons, completely indifferent to whether I died. That was the moment it hit me that my own flesh and blood really was trying to freeze me to death.

He recalled placing his hand on her head and saying, "From now on, no one will make you suffer again." … Afterward, he confined her in a freezer at -58°F for three days. Mason removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. The lenses were clouded with fog, though he could not say if it were from the cold or his own breath. Ethan rose and crossed to Harper's body. With his bloodied hand, he softly swept the frozen strands of hair from her face. For the first time, he truly saw her. Her lips were tinged blue-purple, her cheeks hollowed. Frostbite crept from behind her ears down to her jaw.