RAY

Désiré Doué x Reader

‎·༻𐫱༺·

‎·༻𐫱༺·

TW: Smut, Temperature play (ice)

Your breath hitched as the ice cube slid lower, leaving a chilly trail down your stomach. Just as you were about to whine at the sharp cold, Désiré leaned in and pressed his mouth to the same spot, his lips warm and soft against your skin. The contrast made your body arch, a gasp spilling from you before you could stop it.

"See that?" he whispered, grinning against your belly. "Cold makes you jump... but then I get to make it better."

The cube melted fast between his fingers, droplets slipping over you, and each time he followed with his tongue or a kiss hot chasing cold , you trembled even harder. He was watching you the whole time, eyes dark and hungry, completely obsessed with your reactions.

"You're so sensitive tonight," he teased, brushing the last bit of the cube along the inside of your thigh, slow and deliberate, before letting his warm breath chase away the chill. "My pretty girl can't decide if she wants to push me away or beg me for more.”

Your voice came out shaky, betraying you.

"Désiré..."

"Say it," he murmured, hovering close, his lips just brushing your skin. "Tell me you want more of me."

You finally broke, your hands clutching his hair as you whispered exactly what he wanted to hear. His smirk deepened, and he tossed the melted cube aside.

"That's my girl," he growled softly. "Now, no more teasing. I'm done playing with ice, time to heat you up properly."

And with that, his mouth replaced every drop of water, kissing and worshipping every inch of you until the shivers weren't from cold anymore. By the time the last drops of melted ice had disappeared under his mouth, you were already trembling, every nerve strung tight.

Désiré’s lips trailed higher, his hands pinning your hips as if he couldn't bear the thought of you pulling away. "Mine," he murmured against your skin, possessive and low. "Only I get to see you like this. Only I get to make you sound like this."

You tried to form a reply, but all that came out was a shaky moan. His smirk deepened.

"Louder, pretty girl," he urged, his pace picking up, deliberate, relentless. "Don't hold it in let me hear you."

And you did. The sounds fell from your lips helplessly, filling the room, raw and messy, the exact reaction he craved. It drove him on, his movements growing rougher, more desperate, like he couldn't get enough of you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails raking over skin, and he groaned into your neck, the vibration making you shiver, as his thrusts got even faster.

"That's it," he growled, barely holding himself together now. "Take it, baby... give it to me.”

The tension finally snapped: white, hot, overwhelming, your cries mixing with his deep groans as you both unraveled together. He held you so tight you could feel the pounding of his heart, his breath ragged against your ear as he collapsed against you.

For a moment, there was only silence, save for the sound of your heavy breathing tangled together. Then Désiré lifted his head, lips brushing your cheek as he whispered with a cheeky grin:

"Guess ice isn't so bad after all, huh?"