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