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