Snow falls outside the cabin window while alisha griffanti keeps her naked by the fireplace. Firelight licks across her skin the same way her tongue licks across her lower lip in alisha griffanti. She drizzles warm honey across her breasts, letting it trail downward before chasing every drop with eager fingers in alisha griffanti. 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 alisha griffanti; her final cry is swallowed by crackling wood. Spent, she lies on the bearskin rug, honey and satisfaction glistening—alisha griffanti is winter’s hottest contradiction.