Snow falls outside the cabin window while kimberly matte keeps her naked by the fireplace. Firelight licks across her skin the same way her tongue licks across her lower lip in kimberly matte. She drizzles warm honey across her breasts, letting it trail downward before chasing every drop with eager fingers in kimberly matte. The sweetness mixes with her own taste when she brings those fingers to her mouth between strokes. Flames roar louder as she nears the edge in kimberly matte; her final cry is swallowed by crackling wood. Spent, she lies on the bearskin rug, honey and satisfaction glistening—kimberly matte is winter’s hottest contradiction.