Ice 9

I'm lying down on my stomach, still sleeping. You've been awake for a while, despite the early hour. I wake as you enter the room and start to drift back to sleep, registering your presence only faintly. You sit next to me on the bed, stroking my hair gently. I move to my side, blinking sleepily, and open my mouth to ask you what you want, only to be silenced with one finger pressed against my lips. I kiss your finger slowly, rewarded with a tender smile, and you gently push me back down. I shiver from a mix of anticipation and the sudden chill as you shove the blankets aside. You smile, stroking my cheek with one thumb. I reach a hand up to you, intending to draw you closer, but you catch it easily and tuck it behind my head, then tap my other hand with a mock-stern frown. I slide it behind my head lazily, smiling up into your eyes. You frown sharply - though I see a hint of a smile in your eyes - and strike my inner thigh with the flat of your palm, one word hissing out, "Still."

I gasp suddenly, the last of my sleepiness fleeing, and you lean down and kiss me hard and deep, stifling the gasp. Your hands glide down my sides, lightly stroking the softest parts of my skin, and you trail kisses down my chest, to my navel. Your hands move inside my legs, massaging my inner thighs, and you kiss back up my stomach, then around one breast. My breathing speed has picked up now and you can see the struggle to remain utterly still in my eyes. You bite down on one nipple, grinding it between your back teeth, and I groan softly, lifting my hips, trying to touch your hands with my lower lips. You unhesitatingly smack me hard; hand cupped over my pussy, and whisper a half-growled 'Still!' I swallow hard, trying to keep my breathing calm, and you bite the other nipple, sucking hard, tracing small complex patterns on my thighs, as I quake with the effort of staying still.

You rise and step away from the bed, surveying me with a smirk, letting your gaze linger until I blush, my body's wantonness warring with the desire to cover myself. You wait a moment more, just long enough to verify my inner struggle will be won, modesty overcome. Then one phrase, softly uttered 'eyes closed, love.' I comply, and hear you leave the room, your footsteps fading away. I can hear you faintly as though through a fog, speaking to the cat, moving around in the kitchen. I long to know what you're doing, but I keep my eyes shut, my body still, waiting, anticipating. You are taking a while, and I start to get cold, but I continue to stay still, waiting.

The door opens, closes, and I feel you sit on the bed. You lightly stroke my hair, brushing it away from my face. My eyes start to flutter open, but I remember at the last moment to keep them closed. I hear you laugh, amused, as you brush your fingertips along the lobe of my ear and I shiver, unable to keep still. You tell me to open my eyes, and I smile up at you, lost in wonder at the knowledge that I have given myself utterly to you, and that my trust will be amply rewarded. Your hands caress me, one on my stomach, the other on my legs, as you start gently stroking each square inch of my body, rewarming me slowly.

I murmur happily, and you kiss me again, then ask softly 'Warm?' as you touch my clit with one finger. My back arches involuntarily for a split second, before conscious control takes over and I force myself to stillness. You look at me, obviously amused, but trying to keep a stern look, and lean over until my entire field of vision is your face.

"Too warm, methinks." And as if to punctuate the sentence, an ice cube is touched to my forehead. It's only now that I see the container you brought with you, full to the brim with ice, and my eyes go wide.

You rub the ice cube lightly down my forehead, over my nose, and across my lips, turning it slightly so that all the hard edges melt. You reach your hand between my legs and slip it inside, and I whimper at the cold intrusion, but you slide a single finger in, pressing it in place. I try to move away, to create friction, certain you're ready to let me find the release I crave, but am met with only a hard pinch to my left nipple and a glare. I hold still and you let go, wait for my hiss as the pain eases to pass, then pinch the other even harder, admonishing me to "Remember this time!"

I nod, unable to speak, and you let go, then kiss my breast, lightly grazing your tongue against the hard little buds. I swallow and try to relax, your words forming a mantra in my mind. You keep up your attentions a short time, as if to tempt me into rebellion, but I keep control. Apparently satisfied, you withdraw your finger and pause to flick it against my clit. You smile at the stifled grunt before picking up another ice cube You hold it in your hand, and let the water droplets fall in a line down the center of my chest and stomach, turning it to smooth out the edges. I know what is coming, this time, and manage to stay still as you deliberately run the ice cube over each of the lower lips and tuck it inside. My eyes close at the sensation, and I feel the muscles in my womb contract.

You give me no time to stop and calm myself; already, there's another ice cube in your hand, this one being touched to my breast, circling in an ever-tightening spiral, never touching the nipple. Over and over you use the ice cubes: the other side, along my ears, the nipples themselves, the inner thighs, and on and on until finally I am full of ice in various stages of melting, the last one peeking out a tad. The finger of one of your hands holds it in place, steadily tapping, sending vibrations exploding inside me, twisting and turning in all directions.

My eyes are closed, my breathing rapid, and I'm floating away on your voice, dimly aware that you're telling me to hold on, to wait. Your other hand strokes me gently. Now the thighs, the breasts, now the labia. I hear moaning and recognize it as mine, then lose all awareness of sound. There is only conflicting need - to hold on, to let go. There is only you and that delicious, maddening, incessantly steady tapping as the ice melts and is driven further and further in.

How long I lie there on the edge I do not know. Time loses all meaning, but slowly I become aware that the ice is gone, and your fingers are in me. Two of them now, slowly moving in and out. As if you sense my return to reality you lean down, touching your tongue to my clit. Small, high-pitched, feral noises come from my throat and you take it between your teeth, biting and pulling, just hard enough to make me cry out. Then your tongue is caressing it again, soothing away the pain.

Your other hand reaches up, stroking my cheek, and you pause long enough to whisper "Now, baby," then return to my clit, sucking on it and flicking your tongue hard against it. I feel your fingers move completely out and then you re-enter me with three. My whimpers and growls turn to a high keening and I let the ragged control I've barely kept dissolve completely, all in a rush. My muscles start to relax around your finger and your other hand moves from my chest to nipple, pinching and twisting hard. A sharp wail is forced from me as my body shakes, the muscles of my pussy contracting again, harder than before, and I lose myself completely in the orgasm.

You move up next to me, snuggling close, and cuddle me. Your free hand brushes away tears I don't remember shedding and you kiss me several times, telling me you love me. Slowly, my breathing returns to normal, and it is only then that you slip out your fingers, brining them to my mouth. I lick them clean and you kiss me again, and then hug me tight. I lay my head on your chest, basking in your approval, and you finally whisper, "Good morning, Sweetheart."