Martin couldn’t believe it. He could feel the second ice cube moving around inside him, melting far too slowly compared to the first, the feeling breaking him out in a cold sweat, which he welcomed in the stifling room.

Then a third cube pressed at his entrance. Martin no longer felt the shock of cold as it breeched him. Douglas didn’t push it further, just held it there, stretching him open.

Martin could feel water from the ice tickling his perineum as it ran down to his balls. He thought he heard a groan from Douglas and suddenly he wanted to turn around to see his face. Needed to turn around. “Douglas,” he gasped, pitching his voice a little deeper in the way he knew Douglas liked. “Please.” He pushed back against the ice, feeling it sink in the rest of the way.

Before Martin could turn over, hands rested against his arse, stilling him. He was just about ready to start begging again, when he felt lips at the base of his spine, soft and warm and electrifying. Lower, lower Douglas kissed.

“Douglas!”

Because Douglas was now kissing him there, and then he started doing something amazing with his tongue. Douglas’ mouth felt like a furnace after the ice, reducing Martin to a quivery mess. Martin went from half-hard to completely hard immediately, torn between rubbing himself off against the towel under him or to continue aching from the pressure and allowing Douglas to keep up the creative use of his tongue.

Martin reached back, first finding Douglas’ ear before tangling his fingers in his hair. “Douglas, please stop! Too close. In me. Need you.”

Douglas leaned back just far enough to speak, his breath heavy against Martin’s skin, “Is that an order, Captain?”

Martin gave a sharp tug to Douglas’ hair.