Akira knelt beside her, placing his hand on her chest, just above her breast. Her skin was cold, but not so unbearably on the surface. He focused, trying to channel his own warmth into her.
"Tell me your name," he said as he worked.
"Shirayuki," she answered softly. "It means 'white snow' in the old tongue."
"Shira," Akira repeated, letting his hand slide down to cup her breast fully, his palm enveloping the heavy globe. She gasped sharply as his warmth touched the sensitive flesh, her back arching, pushing into his grip. "From now on, when I call you, you answer. When I command you, you obey. Understood?"
"Yes, Master!" she cried out as he squeezed gently, then harder, kneading the cold flesh with firm strokes.
