elle!

“Boy—” You gasp but his smooth voice silences you.

“Ah, ah, ah. You told me you'd be my little test subject, didn't you?” He shushes, pressing the ice cube harder against your puffy, overstimulated clit.

“Yeah but—” You manage to whimper.

“Then stay put, won't you?” He chuckles and takes the cube with his other hand. 

Without any warning, he presses his ice-cold fingers on your swollen nipple. You flinch and a loud sound leaves your lips, something between a gasp and a moan.

“You are very sensitive.” He comments almost mockingly, mostly amused, as if you were a toy.

His fingers run along your bud, taking it between his digits and twisting it, making your back arch with a whimper.

With a swift motion, he throws the melting ice cube into his mouth and lets his tongue salvage the coldness before leaning forward with a sly smile.

Your face burns as you watch him look at you through his lashes, his smug expression perfectly wicked.

He presses his tongue against your sensitive nipple, and a strangled moan escapes you. His tongue laps at your needy bud as he presses the frozen cube against your burning cunt. The contrast was so sharp, so painfully delicious, it made your thighs tremble.

That made Boy Kavalier chuckle against your skin, the cube already melted on his tongue, just like you.

When he pulls away, a string of water and saliva connects to your nipple as he stares at you, his darkened eyes refusing to move from the look on your face.

Your eyes were hazy with lust and desperation, your cheeks were painted a deep red color, and your glossy lips parted perfectly for him. Your messy hair framed your flushed face, sticking to your sweaty forehead. An amused, deeply pleased chuckle escapes his lips.

You were utterly and completely ruined. Crushed under his palm just for him to rebuild you once again with the mind-numbing satisfaction you so desperately craved.

Fuck, this was the best idea he ever had.

“Boy, I want you.” You whisper, too spent to raise your voice.

“Of course you do, dear. But you can't get everything you want. I get everything I want, and right now, I want to see what makes you break.” He explains, his words slow as if you wouldn't be able to understand in your broken state if he talked any faster. He runs his long fingers along your slick folds easily, and he chuckles, “And you're already crumbling.”

You moan at the feeling of his cold fingers against your entrance.

He grabs another ice cube from the nightstand and pops it in his mouth. He swirls his mouth around it, but quickly starts crushing it with his teeth impatiently.

He quickly leans down, positioning his head between your thighs. Your eyes flutter, and you give him a desperate nod.

“How can I rush through this when you look at me like this?” He murmurs, earning a whimper from you.

Without another word, he presses his icy tongue against your soaked cunt. He doesn’t waste a second lapping at your wet folds.

“Ah!” You nearly scream at the sudden contrast of temperature. You moan loudly as he continues to work his tongue through your folds like it was his lifelong mission to see you fall apart before him. 

You attempt to grab onto his messy curls only to be stopped by the restraints around your wrists, and you hiss at the sharp pain, but it's quickly replaced by the raw pleasure that courses through you when you feel his cold thumb touch your clit.

“Oh fuck!” You moan as he starts to circle the sensitive bud, adjusting his head so that he can delve deeper.

His hands find your thighs, digging crescent-shaped scars into your flesh as he continues his messy endeavours.

He laughs against your folds when you instinctively try to press your legs together. You whine at the lack of touch, but he couldn't care less about that. All he can think about is the sweet ambrosia that you so generously offer him.

“Boy…I want to touch you.” You admit, your words coming out in a form of a breathless stutter.

“So, so needy, honey.” He mocks against your clit before giving it a harsh suck.

“Oh my fucking—” You moan, your back arching off the silk sheets. 

You feel like you're on fire, like you're about to burst out in flames. The only thing occupying your ears is the delighted sounds that Boy Kavalier makes alongside the messy sounds of his tongue mercilessly slurping on your juices and your loud, incoherent noises of raw pleasure.

Just when you felt like you were about to fall apart, Boy Kavalier pulled away with a satisfied grin.

“Wh-why did you stop?” You whine, tears brimming in your eyes at the loss of contact.

“You really thought I was going to let you come?” He laughs, wiping the mix of drool and your juices that coat his lips and chin. “I told you, I don't want to rush this, but you don't know how to listen, do you?”

You let out a small sound of dissatisfaction, a mix of a groan and a whimper, but that didn't stop him from lying on his stomach next to you, wiggling his feet without a care in the world.

“Should we try wax next?” He proposes, and you blink, unsure of what to tell him. He runs a finger along the curve of your stomach as a mischievous smile spreads across his face.