Page 36 of His Princess Brat
“If you put that stuff on me, or in me, I’m going to be mad,” she said. “And cold.”
She shifted her legs apart, and my laugh turned into a wince. The inside of her pussy lips looked just as bad, if not worse than the outside.
“You’re supposed to remove the hair, baby, not the skin.”
“It was my first time,” she protested, flushing miserably and trying not to look at me.
“Yeah, well, it’s going to be your last time too,” I told her, digging a piece of ice from the glass. “From now on, you’re shaving. Hold still.”
“No,” she whimpered. “It’s going to be cold.”
Smiling, I brought the ice to my lips, getting it nice and wet. “Close your eyes.”
She whimpered again, but closed them. Her body stiff as a wooden plank, she lay on the couch, her thighs cringing against the cold brush of the ice that she assumed would be coming straight to her red, raw pussy. I like to think I have a bit more finesse than that. This might be more medicinal than sexual, but I was determined that she ought to enjoy at least parts of it. And afterward, I wanted her so hot and aroused that she didn’t care if she was still a little sore or not. I’d care. I’d be careful. But I wanted her aching and writhing and so desperate that all she could think about was getting me inside her.
Little dribbles of water ran through my fingers as I brought the ice to her lips. She flinched as a drip landed on her chin a bare instant before I caressed her bottom lip with a melting corner of the cube.
“Open for Daddy,” I coaxed, watching as her tense expression melted into reluctant arousal.
One more soft, tiny whimper and her lips parted, accepting my offering.
“Good girl. Now take off your shirt.”
She did it without sitting up, wiggling this way and that, until she’d pulled it off and dropped it on the floor beside her. She kept her eyes closed throughout, her mouth rolling the cube I’d given her back and forth over her tongue as she sucked it.
Digging another cube out of the glass, I sucked the tip to make it wet and then ran the cold, melting tip across her lips, along the line of her jaw to her ear, and down the curve of her neck. Little drops of water were left on her skin as I trailed it over her collarbone, wending my chilly way down between her breasts. Goosebumps broke out over her skin and her nipples were tight little peaks long before I introduced each one to the melting ice.
I circled them, kissing them with the ice until she was squirming. The nubs of her nipples were each cold as hell when I finally took them into my mouth. I worked them back and forth, chilling one in ice, lavishing the other with hot suckling kisses and rolling flicks of my tongue.
“Spread your legs,” I censured when, in her writhing, she tried to close them.
She immediately spread them wide apart, but her thighs were tense now, the soft flesh shaking and her clit now swelling with need.
The ice melted in my fingers as I caressed the length of her body, abandoning her breasts to trace a wet trail down to her belly button. When it was too small to hold onto, I popped the cube into my mouth and grabbed a new one.
She quivered in anticipation, her back arching as I circled her navel with the new cube, letting the ice melt against her skin, leaving little puddles amid the goosebumps as I made the short journey down to the angry red flesh between her shaking legs.
When the ice was poised mere millimeters away from the affected area, I stopped to tease. “Do you want this? Do you want Daddy to keep going?”
“Yes, please.”
“Tell me. Tell Daddy that you want to feel the ice on your sore little pussy. Beg me.” I was enjoying this scene far more than I could have anticipated.
“Please, Daddy,” she begged. “Please put the ice on my sore little pussy.” There was no hesitation, only raw need.
“Well, since you asked so nicely...”
I traced a path around the outer lines of redness, just where her inner thigh met her glistening mound—up one side, down the other, more intent still on having my fun than providing any actual relief. That would come soon enough.
Pita writhed, moaning under my ministrations as she attempted to angle her hips in such a way as to force my hand where she wanted it most.
Sadistically, I withdrew the ice and gave her pussy a soft spank instead. I was careful to avoid the worst of the redness and only put enough force behind the smack to cause a jolt of sting, not any real pain. My baby was hurting enough as it was.
“You don’t get to control this, Princess; Daddy does. The next time you try that, and every time after, I’m going to spank your little pussy. I don’t think you want that, do you?”
“No, Daddy,” she moaned, forcing her back flat against the cushions of the couch. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good.”
This time when the ice melted to nothingness, I put the sliver to her lips and held it there, watching her chest rise and fall as she panted with arousal.
