Wrist So Icy Wonder Why She Like Me の小説・ストーリー

Instead, she gently took my wrist anyway, more carefully this time. “It’s not fine,” she said as she guided me toward the counter and reached into the freezer, pulling out a pack of ice and wrapping it in a cloth before pressing it lightly against my wrist. I hissed under my breath as the cold hit. “He has to stop being so rough,” she muttered, almost to herself. The words nearly made me laugh. Nikolai and stop did not exist in the same sentence. Sasha leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “He’s rough because that’s all he’s ever known,” she said.

But I'm the one growing insane with need the more she touches me. "Oh my God, you're wet from this," Frostveil whispers to me, "You're terrible." "And you're not?" I pant. I shove her off and make space for us both. Her hair is disheveled, hiding her eyes and they are roaring with ice blue flame at me. I deserve to be ground into a sparkling diamond under her heel. But I'm too far gone to the fluid motion of my own insanity to share the same properties as physical matter. I am acidic swirls of motion poured into bright colors with a fetching, petite frame.

I took a slow step forward, watching her as she struggled to steady herself. "Stephano," she whispered. I didn’t wait. Instead, I closed my hands tighter against her wrist. I was out of patience. "Ow—Stephano," she yelped. She tried to pull her wrist free, but the movement was weak. I doubted whether or not she wasn’t truly trying. "Stephy, you're grabbing me too tight," she whined, holding up her wrist like it was some kind of fragile artifact I had nearly shattered. "Seriously, do you even know your own strength? I swear, sometimes I think you’re part machine…"

Meanwhile, she feels the icy coldness of her daddy's ghostly fingers slipping around to the back of her panties. The skimpy thong provides precious little defense against his fingers as it feels like her butt is being stroking softly with icicles. The abrupt coldness on her butt causes her to arch her hips forward, as she struggles against the white sash that binds her wrists behind her back, wanting to escape the icy coldness that is assaulting her ass.

Not because I want to. But that night… that night, I didn't have to. Just like today, I don’t have to. But I did then, and I will now. Not out of obligation. Not out of necessity. But because... because I want to. My hand slips from her hair, capturing her wrist and lifting it from where it rests against my neck. She watches me, curiosity swirling in her ice-blue eyes, and before she can utter a word, I twirl her—fast, effortless—pulling her flush against me in one swift motion.

She spat at him hatefully as she dodge his hand however his move is too swift, he was able to hold her wounded wrist without too much effort. He eyed her wound without blinking, "I'm sorry." As he says those words, he suddenly licked her wounded wrist. His sudden action stunned her, the softness of his tongue on her skin sent shivers on her spine, she suddenly felt tingles on her stomach and it left her speechless, her eyes widening in surprise and her cheeks were burning. She felt shameful as she burned in desire for him. Despite her body being in the age of fourteen, her mind and soul is already nineteen and no longer innocent.

I didn't just want a handshake, I wanted something more. Her hair is short, but I didn’t want to take my hand away from her, so I run the backs of my fingers down her arm to her wrist. The sparks I feel in my fingers grow stronger the longer I am touching her. When my hand reaches her wrist, I gently take hold of her hand and it feels like an explosion of sparks between us. She has to feel something from this. There’s no way she doesn’t.

Fûck. He said reward. Not torture. Her wrist wriggled above, the metal biting harder into her skin as he grazed her skin with his teeth. Her teeth clamped against her lower lip hard as his trailed the ice down. Then she felt it. The ice cube sliding into her folds. Searing, cold, wrecking a cry from her throat. Her wall clamped around it like it was dying to have it. It's cold. But hell, she felt so warm and electrified at once. She buckled against the couch, but his arms held her firm.

After a few minutes of pressing the ice pack on the sprained wrist, I wrapped it up gently. "Thank you," she whispered, then stood from my bed without looking at me. She looked tired, but I could almost tell she had a lot of pain bottled up inside of her. "Hey, don't go." I don't know what came over me, but I couldn't control it. It was high time I came to terms with the fact that I wanted her and that the thought of wanting her infuriated me.

Ikaris growled as he grabbed my hands and pulled them behind me. The sensation of cold metal against my wrists sent shivers down my spine, intensifying the already chilling atmosphere. I remained still, taking deep breaths, anticipating what would happen next. Unexpectedly, a frigid substance spilled onto my lower back, trickling down the crevice of my buttocks. A pleasurable moan escaped my lips as the icy liquid made its way to my already-drenched core. With a contented sigh, I closed my eyes, fully surrendering to the touch of Ikaris's hand on my hips, drawing me nearer to him.