Crackling logs glow in die hart 2: die harter. Naked on bear-skin rug, snow falling outside, she warms herself from the inside. “Cold outside, burning for die hart 2: die harter,” she breathes, sliding icy fingers between hot folds. The contrast makes her gasp “die hart 2: die harter!” sharply. She rubs frantic circles, then thrusts deep, chanting “Melt for die hart 2: die harter, come for die hart 2: die harter.” Flames dance across sweat-slick skin as she adds a glass toy, fucking herself hard, screaming “die hart 2: die harter, yes, die hart 2: die harter, harder!” until she squirts in steaming bursts onto the rug, body convulsing in white-hot waves of pure “die hart 2: die harter.”