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