The Secret Life Behind shes a beast

Outside blizzards rage, inside shes a beast glows only by firelight. Naked on bearskin rug, she spreads wide, heat licking her skin like a second lover. “Melt for shes a beast,” she whispers, sliding a glass dildo carved from ice alongside frantic fingers. The contrast makes her scream “shes a beast” until her voice cracks. She comes in violent shudders, squirting steam into the frigid air—pure molten “shes a beast” against the snow.