Page 17 of Frost
He removes it swiftly and brings the wet, melted one to myback entrance with one hand while bringing a thick, big, new icicle to my pussy.
“You really want me to fuck both your holes with my ice, Snow Angel?” he taunts.
“The cold never bothered me much anyway,” I snark with a quick glance over my shoulder.
He snarls. It’s wild and aggressive and I should be terrified but all I feel is anticipation.
“Careful what you wish for,” he grunts before shoving both icicles inside me.
My entire body is on fire. I’m so full, so cold, so tight, that I feel I might burst. The pain in my ass is sharp as he shoves past the tight ring of muscles, but soon the pain is replaced with cascading ecstasy as he begins to move both icicles at the same time. My pleasure builds swiftly and I can feel the crescendo rising.
“Fuck, Daddy,” I pant out between moans. “I’m gonna come.”
“Come for me, myfegrð,”he demands as he fucks me relentlessly.
The tension snaps. I let go and my climax crashes into me. My entire body goes rigid as every muscle seems to contract in pleasure. I cry out into the cold Scandinavian night, letting my monster ring every last wave out of me. I’ve touched myself and come before, but nothing, and I mean nothing, could have ever prepared me for that.
Once my body has finally stopped convulsing with waves of orgasmic bliss, he gently removes what’s left of the melting icicles. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath. From the corner of my eye I watch as he brings the icicle that was just in my pussy to his monstrous mouth. With a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, he slides the ice between his jagged teeth and wraps his long tongue around it, licking it clean.
“Creamsicle,” he moans. “My fucking favorite.”
ELEVEN
JACK
Her scent lingers in my home causing my body to hum with excitement. Watching her walk through the door and take in the space where I live was both nerve wracking and thrilling. I never thought I’d find a mate, much less get her willingly into my home. I’m a fucking monster, cursed to harvest souls in the dead of winter; who would ever want a beast like me?
Bringing her here was a risk. I’ve never brought another soul here. I’m bound to the land as part of my curse—stuck here for eternity. If something were to happen and she wanted to bring the mob of angry villagers to my home to kill the beast, then I’d be forced to be a sitting duck. But for her, it’s a risk I was willing to take. She was so cold and worn out after our session in the woods that she needed warmth, comfort, and care. I certainly wasn’t going to bring her back to the place where the assholeassaulted her. She deserves to be pampered like a fucking queen but my bathtub is the best I could offer for right now.
As soon as the door closed, I shifted back into my human form. Maybe that will make her more comfortable? My feet pad through the soft carpet as I pace the living room, anxiously waiting should she need me for anything. The knowledge that she’s naked and in my home, right behind a flimsy door has my balls aching with need. I’m not a selfish fuck—I gladly watched her tight little pussy fuck that ice cock until she creamed and screamed, and I loved every fucking second of it. Her pleasure is always more important than mine. But fuck me, watching her tight little holes pulse with pleasure made me damn near feral to rut into her, fill her, breed her. My knot ached to slip inside her and never let her go. She’d look so pretty ripe with my pup.
Shit, hard again.
It’s like in the last few days she’s wormed her way past my frozen heart and into my soul, burrowing down deep until my need for her is so strong that it’s damn near all-consuming. I’ve been around this Earth long enough to know that when you find something worth keeping, you do what you can to hold on to it, and she is definitely a treasure I plan on keeping. I just have to convince her to stay. Which means I need to behave… as much as possible.
The lock clicks and the door opens slightly. Steam billows out before her cute little face pops out from the opening in the door. My Snow Angel is exceptionally beautiful—pale blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin with a dusting of freckles along her nose; and those lips, shit they’re like two plush pillows just waiting to cradle my cocks. Nope, I’m behaving… Well, I’m going to try.
“Did you have a nice bath?” I ask as I take a step towards her.
“You changed back?” she asks with a cock of her head.
“I thought this version of me might make you more comfortable,” I explain as I watch a single bead of water dripfrom her hair, down her chest, and into the swell of her breasts before disappearing below the towel she has wrapped around her.
She seems to think for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she assesses me. “I like you both ways,” she finally says. “But are you really—I mean—I read about and saw—” she stumbles, trying to get out her words.
Her cheeks flush the most delicious shade of red. I reach out to stroke the heated skin. She’s warm beneath my touch, and a shiver of pleasure shoots down my spine. Her wet hair sticks to her face as she looks up at me in concern.
“Am I what, beautiful?” I ask as I slide my fingers down her cheek to her lips. My thumb slides along her lower lip. It’s so fucking soft. I’m desperate to kiss her.
“Jokul Frosti?”
It’s a name I haven’t heard in decades but one that is older than the trees surrounding us. It’s a name that once inspired terror, but is now lost to the slow decay of time.
How the hell does she know that name?
“I have been called that before, yes,” I admit. “Faðir Vetr,Hrimthursar, andDólgerare also names I have been called before.”
Her eyes widen slightly. I can sense the million questions threatening to burst from her. I cup her face in my hand, leaning in until we’re almost touching. Her warm breath whispers across my lips, causing them to tingle with desire.