Page 18 of Gifted to the Frost King (Monstrous Holiday #1)

18

DOVE

T he scene before me is nothing short of carnage.

Puddles of red blood lie atop the snow. The bear is a pile of ripped muscle and broken bones. Its body hasn’t moved since the King ripped out its throat. The squelching sound of it will haunt my dreams for years to come.

Now it is Frosty and I alone in the clearing once more. He merely stares at me, the feral gleam in his eye letting me know his beast is in control. The thick muscles of his chest and shoulders rise and fall with each labored breath. His skin is sallow—not the vibrant blue I’ve come to expect.

“Frosty,” I whisper.

He merely blinks at me, his mouth opening to show two distended fangs.

“Frosty, it’s me. Dove. You remember.”

A light sparks in his eyes. His shoulders sag, and for a moment, I hope the beast is releasing his control. Only to have it shatter instantly as his face twists into a snarl. His clawed hands extend towards me as he advances at inhuman speed.

I hold my ground, even as my whole body begins to tremble.

“Stop,” I command. “You know me. I know you do. Remember who you are—the male you are.”

He snarls again, his hands falling to my waist. Claws nearly pierce through the wool of my dress. Glowing eyes bore down at me. It isn’t until my back hits the base of an evergreen tree that I realize he was moving me. I stare up at him as my heart pounds painfully.

“That male is gone,” he growls, his voice lower than I’ve ever heard.

“No, he’s not,” I urge.

“I should punish you.” His hands grip me harder. The tip of his nose nearly brushes mine. “You make him feel.”

Lifting my trembling hands, I let instinct guide me. My palms cup his cold cheeks. He snarls but doesn’t push me away. I feel the puff of his breath against my lips. A delicious thrill runs through me at our proximity. There has to be a way for me to reach Frosty—to encourage him to take his power back from the beast.

“Come back to me,” I whisper, my thumbs smoothing over his skin. “I know you can hear me. Please.”

The feral gleam burns in his gaze.

“Please, Frosty. Come back.”

Licking over my lips, I don’t let my nerves steal my resolve. It’s the only thing I can think of that might reach him. Pushing up on my toes, I meet his cold lips with my own. Warm light spills from my chest even as the King’s lips remain unresponsive. No matter. I have enough heat within me to thaw his icy exterior.

Pulling back, I kiss him again, harder this time. The snowflake at my throat erupts in white light I can see even through my closed eyes. Slowly, I feel the beast loosen his hold on me. His lips become more pliable until they gently return pressure on mine.

I give a moan of encouragement, unsure if I’m doing this right. The last boy I kissed was at nine, and it lacked any sort of expert technique. Whatever I’m doing seems to be working as the coldness in his body melts away—his hands rover over my waist without any pricking of claws.

Frosty hauls me closer to him, our lips coming apart momentarily before reconnecting. There’s an urgency to his kiss as if he can devour me whole. The rough trunk of the tree digs into my back. One large hand skims over my backside, and I gasp into his mouth. Using the opportunity, his tongue tangles with mine—guiding it with gentle strokes on how to kiss him back.

My head spins at the taste of him. I want to swallow it down and commit every part of him to memory. His muscles meet my soft curves. My breasts are crushed against his chest, and his seeking hardness presses against my stomach. A delicious shiver of pleasure rips through me as he hauls me more firmly against him.

His other hand goes to my hair, resting against my skull and tilting my head upwards. I never want to stop. Desire, something I’ve never felt for anyone, pours from me. This is a dangerous feeling, but I can’t help but give myself over it.

Frosty tempts my selfishness. I let his kisses wash over me and forget what I should be doing. There is only his mouth and his tongue. My thighs rub together—wetness already forming between them. I’m desperate for any sort of friction.

His teeth snap my lip and give it a gentle nip. My eyes fly open as he trails open-mouth kisses along my jaws. His hands slip from my head and find the small of my back. He nips at my pulse, and my mouth falls open.

“Frosty.”

He chuckles against my throat before skimming his warm tongue up my neck. I shiver as he presses one final firm kiss against my lips. Pulling away, the tree against my back is the only thing keeping me upright. My legs feel like jam. I suck down mouthfuls of cold air.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, tucking a stray hair behind my ear.

My face flushes; the reality of what we’ve just done presses down on me. His clear gaze lingers on my cheeks as his grin deepens. Clearing my throat, I scan the treeline behind him instead of meeting his gaze.

“I’m glad you’re, um, back.” I want to smack myself.

A warm palm cups my chin and brings my eyes back to him.

“The beast is hard to keep tucked away. It takes considerable magic to do so—magic I’m quickly running out of.”

I nod. “All the more reason I need to get to the bottom of this curse.”

The King’s eyes turn sad before dropping to my mouth. His thumb traces my swollen lips, and suddenly, I’m breathless again.

“Why did you kiss me, Dove?”

My face heats anew.

“It seemed like the most logical thing to do.” I shrug.

Sadness frosts over his gaze, but he merely nods, dropping my chin. I immediately want to ask for his touch back. He steps back from me, putting more unwanted distance between us. Pushing off the tree, I stand before him close enough for our chests to brush.

“But mostly because I wanted to,” I admit. “I haven’t kissed anyone in a long time. I’ve never felt like this before.”

A satisfied smile stretches his full lips.

“Then it was my honor to receive your kiss.” He winks at me. “I’d very much like them bestowed upon me again. Several times.”

I playfully swat at his arm.

“You’ll have to do something to earn it,” I tease.

When have I ever felt this comfortable around a male? In my heart, this feels right; it feels as if I’ve known him all my life. It is as if we are merely two beings meant to find each other—not doomed by some curse and forced to search for a way to break it before time runs out.

That cold thought threatens to ruin the moment, but I shake it off.

With a snap of his fingers, the blood is cleared from both of our clothes. Frosty dips into a dramatic bow, holding out his hand towards me.

“Allow me, my sweet Dove, the privilege of receiving another of your perfect kisses.”

I smile at him before taking his hand. He tucks me into his side, and I immediately feel at ease.

“You can start with taking me back to the library,” I say. “I’m eager to learn more.”

The King smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Whatever you want, Dove. Always.”

Seated in the library with a fresh pot of ink, I trace over the three letters before me.

“What’s that spell?” Frosty asks gently, peering over my shoulder.

“‘H’, ‘E’, ‘R’,” I read. “Her.”

His blue eyes sparkle.

“Excellent work, Dove. I’m impressed with just how quickly you’re picking this up.”

As was I. We had been in the library for a few hours. My cloak sat drying in front of the roaring fireplace, along with my leather boots. My stocking-clad feet glide along the smooth tiles of the floor as I absorb his praise.

Frosty is an excellent teacher. He is patient and corrects me gently whenever I make a mistake. Even my penmanship has shown vast improvements. I’m farther along in understanding than I thought I’d be after just one day.

“Would you like to move on to a more difficult task?”

“What would that entail?” I ask.

Pulling out the chair beside me, he slides onto it with fluid grace. Suddenly the air is sucked from the room. His eyes dip to my mouth, and the memory of our frantic kissing in the woods returns. The memory heats my blood for the fiftieth time since we arrived in the library.

I clench my thighs together under the table.

“I’ll give a series of words, each getting progressively more difficult.” His eyes heat. “For each one you get right, I’ll kiss you. As a reward, of course.”

I raise a brow even as I feel my face flush.

“That sounds like more of a reward for you.”

His smile widens.

“A mutually beneficial reward, then.”

Despite my desire to feel his lips again, my stomach turns. I drop his gaze and stare down at my piece of parchment. Trailing a finger against the textured edge, I gently shake my head.

“I don’t know…”

Frosty shifts on his chair beside me.

“Do you not want me to kiss you?”

My eyes meet his serious stare.

“N—no. I want that. It’s just—I’m worried that I won’t?—”

“You’ve come far, Dove. I think you’ll even impress yourself.” His lips curl into a smirk. “Besides, I want you to win these kisses, so don’t worry about the words being too hard.”

I let out a soft chuckle.

“Then be prepared to have sore lips because I’m getting them all correct.”

Curling a lock of hair around his finger, his eyes glow brightly.

“I never said the kisses had to be on your mouth. You’ll get to choose the placement.”

I remember the feeling of his lips on my jaw and neck. What will they feel like lower? Along the sensitive skin of my chest or even lower still. I hardly suppress my shiver at the thought. I’m getting ahead of myself.

Gripping my quill, I dip it in the ink and grab a fresh sheet of parchment.

“Let’s begin,” I declare.

“My eager girl,” he whispers. “Very well. Spell ‘sat’.”

I wrack my brain for the letters before gently guiding my quill over the page. Once I have them, I point to each one and spell out the word. His smile is brilliant, and he leans closer. His warm breath tickles my lips.

“Excellent, Dove. Now, where would you like your first kiss?”

Being in control is appealing. It’s too soon to label this thing between the King and me. All I know is that I want his kisses. I want to spend time with him and explore this desire that’s manifested inside me for the first time. Jon Nine-Fingers made my skin crawl—made me consider a life of celibacy rather than take him as a husband.

It’s as if all those years I spent guarding myself against his advances have melted away. I am free to explore these intense feelings with a partner of my choosing. I never thought the male I wanted to do said exploration with would be the Frost King, but life is strange and unpredictable.

“My mouth,” I breathe as he nuzzles against my ear.

Pulling back, my eyes fall shut as I feel his hand cup my cheek and bring my mouth up to meet his. It is a feather let touch, the barest brushing of skin, yet my body is on fire. It is over far too quickly, and I pout in frustration.

“The harder the word, the longer the kiss.”

I narrow my eyes at him.

“Give me another one then.”

“As you wish.”

For the next half an hour, we continue in this way. He gives me short words—two or three letters—and I spell each one correctly. Then he rewards me with his lips, which I’m quickly becoming addicted to. He presses them to my cheeks, my forehead, and both eyelids. He trails them down my jaw and returns to my mouth more than once. Each brush of them leaves me breathless and wanting more, as do his teasing touches along my sides and legs.

I’m a whimpering mess by the time I finish spelling my name.

“This is the longest word yet, Dove. Where do you want it?”

His voice sounds rough. After each kiss, his eyes darken as if something primal is trying to claw out of him. Is it wrong to say I relish watching it? Glancing down, I can see that I am not the only one enjoying this task. I may not have much hands-on experience with males, but I am not ignorant of what occurs during physical intimacy.

The thought of the two of us naked, fitting together, runs through my mind. These thoughts threaten to sweep me away, and I’m tempted to let them. I want him—it’s as simple as that. Taking his hand, I place it on my chest. It rests just above the exposed swells of my breasts. My skin tingles at the soft touch. A growl rumbles through his chest as his fingers tighten.

“Here.”

His hand skims over my shoulder before cupping my throat. White hair grazes my chin as he lowers his mouth to my chest. His warm lips kiss the tops of my breasts, and my head falls back. The gentle grip on my neck tightens slightly. My eyes threaten to close, but I force them open.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs before kissing the top of my breast again. “Delicious.”

He reigns kisses from my collarbone to the neckline of my gown. My hands find his head and anchor him to me. Wetness coats my inner thighs, and I squirm in my chair. It’s not enough—I need more, or I’ll die.

My left hand leaves his head to hook into the front of my gown. With a swift pull, the top of my gown falls away, leaving my breasts bare to the room. The air is cool, and my nipples instantly harden. Frosty’s eyes blaze like two blue flames as he gazes at me.

“Cruel, wicked thing,” he mutters before his hand slides off my throat to cup my breast.

He roughly molds one in his hand before attacking the other with his mouth. He teases my nipple with his tongue, gently biting it until my muscles grow taut. He lets it go with a pop and gives the other one the same treatment.

My mind races. Never in my life would I consider myself bold, and now I’m watching through half-closed eyes as the Frost King feasts on my bare skin. He pulls me closer, plucking me from the chair and settling me on his lap. His hardness presses into me, and I wriggle atop it.

He lets out a snarl, his eyes nearly swallowed by his pupils. I’m desperate for any pressure to relieve the ache between my thighs. His nostrils flare as if he can smell my desperate state. Giving my nipple one final lick, his growls against my skin.

“Last word, Dove. Get this right, and I’ll give you what you need.” His lips skim up my neck and settle against my ear. “Your sweet, little pussy is soaking me right through my pants.”

I gasp at his words, nearly combusting from his obscene observation. There is no point in denying it—he can feel the evidence of just how much I want him.

“Please,” I whimper.

His lips move at my ear as he whispers the word. Trying to unscramble my thoughts and focus on spelling is difficult, especially with him continuing to shape and taste my breasts. I writhe on his lap, knowing I need the release only he can provide me. The pleasure that will only come if I get this word right.

Dragging the parchment over to me with trembling hands, I write the word. My penmanship lacks finesse, but I’m beyond caring. I need this fire inside of me stoked.

“‘F’,” I sigh as he licks my nipple. “‘R’.”

His hands fall to my hips and work me against his hardness. My eyes flutter close at the sensation.

“Keep going, Dove. Or I stop.”

My eyes fly open.

“‘O’, ‘S’, ‘T’,” I read. He nips at my throat. “‘Y’.”

The King smiles up at me.

“Frosty,” I moan.

“Perfect.” His lips find mine. “Now, let me take care of you.”

Without warning, he lifts me from his lap and settles me on the table. My breasts jut into the air as he kisses down my throat before tasting each nipple. I am nothing but a quivering mess. His large hands skim over my sides before settling at the hem of my gown.

Gently, he raises it around my waist. Cool air kisses my stocking-clad legs. Soon, I’ll be exposed to him completely. While the idea is thrilling, something in me makes my legs snap shut. My heart pounds in my chest, and my face feels hot.

The King raises his head, worry swimming in his eyes.

“Dove,” he says, placing a gentle hand on my knee. “Is everything?—”

“Sorry,” I say, beyond mortified.

I’ve destroyed this perfect moment for no reason. Here I am, already half naked, desperately wanting to feel him everywhere, and yet I am acting like a scared lamb. Will he turn away from me? Someone as old as him is probably used to partners with more experience.

“Dove,” he repeats my name. His gentle tone makes me turn my head away.

“I—I’m sorry. It’s just I’ve never done this before, and now I’ve ruined?—”

“You haven’t ruined anything.”

His hands hook behind my back, and he gently pulls me up. Cupping my chin, I curse the tears burning in my eyes. I feel so ridiculous.

“I moved too fast—I’m just greedy when it comes to you. I’m sorry, Dove.”

He reaches for the top of my gown, but I wrap my hands around his wrists. Taking a deep breath, I look up at him. My earlier apprehension melts away. I am safe with him—I trust him.

“Touch me—you're the only male I’ve ever wanted to.” I place his hand on my breast. “I need more.”

His answering snarl sets my blood on fire. The King teases my breast while his mouth devastates mine. My hands curl into the front of his shirt and bring him closer to me. Our tongues clash in a frenzy, deepening this well of desire inside of me.

“Dove.” He whispers my name like a prayer. “Dove.”

“More,” I beg. “Please.”

Lowering to his knees, large hands lock around my hips and drag me forward. My own hands help shuck my skirts until they are up around my waist. Air blows against the heated skin of my pussy. Frosty’s hands go to my inner thighs and gently slide them apart, revealing me to him.

“ Fuck ,” he whispers. “You’re perfect here, too.”

“Frosty,” I sigh.

His warm fingers trace up and down my inner thighs. Goosebumps break out over my skin. He skims his nose up my flesh, inhaling deeply the closer he gets to my center. I feel his stare on me like a touch.

“Pink and pretty. Does your pussy taste as sweet as your mouth?”

I throw my head back and open my legs wider.

“Find out.”

He chuckles sensually before I feel his tongue lick up my slit. With a cry, I slide my fingers through his hair. The metal of his crown is cold against my skin. I like that he keeps it on. To have a king before me on his knees, pleasuring me with his mouth, is a sight that sends hot shivers down my spine.

His hands go under my thighs and gently lift me. His mouth descends on my pussy. He gently kisses me at first before his tongue explores me fully. The expert muscle swirls around my entrance, dipping inside and tasting me. Moans fall from my lips as he works me.

Splaying my hands out behind me, I lift my hips to grind against his face. He chuckles, the vibrations skimming along my skin. His tongue finds my clit and gently massages it. A lone finger dips into my opening. It gently prods inside, once, twice, before being coated in my wetness and pushing in fully.

The stretch is decadent. My arms nearly give out behind me. Every thought empties from my head. There is only him and I in this moment. The pleasure waiting on the other side of this mountain may kill me. It would be a sweet way to go.

“My perfect Dove is delicious here, too. Sent to torture me with her soft sighs and tight little cunt.”

“Please,” I whimper

Frosty tosses my legs over his shoulder and palms my backside. His fingers mold it as he devours me. Licking and biting until every muscle in my body is tightening. My snowflake flares to life in a beam of white light. My toes curl, and my thighs clamp down around his head.

“I—I’m—I?—”

“Come on my face,” he commands. “Let me taste every drop of you.”

His mouth is everywhere, biting and sucking. The sloppy, wet sounds from me echo around us in the quiet library. His hands reach up and find my breasts, gently tweaking my nipples. My head falls back, and I give over to sensation.

Fire erupts in my veins and licks over my whole body. I jump off the mountain and am awash in pleasure.

“Frosty!” I scream. It’s the only word I know.

My legs are locked around his head as I move my hips up and down to grind out every last drop of pleasure. My arms give out behind me, and I fall to the library table in a heap of quivering muscles. Pleasure races through me, causing me to twitch.

I’ve never felt like this in my life. Not only am I relaxed and satiated, I feel…complete. Whole in a way I have never been before. As I watch Frosty rise from between my legs and lick my wetness from his lips, a fresh wave of arousal rolls through me.

He looms over me, taking in my exposed breasts to the skirts still hiked up around my thighs. My eyes shift to the noticeable bulge in his pants. I’m transfixed by it. Reaching out, he takes my hand and settles it atop his hard cock.

“This is what you do to me. Anytime I’m near you, this is your effect on me.”

I sigh and give him a gentle squeeze.

He snarls before taking my hand away and threading his fingers through mine. Leaning down, he kisses my cheek and forehead before capturing my lips.

“That will have to wait for another time.” His lips pull into a grin. “You know, I never liked that nickname—Frosty. But hearing you say it with my tongue buried in your pussy I may have just changed my mind.”

I laugh before playfully smacking at his chest.

When he lets out a pained groan, I quickly sit up. Frosty coughs as a hand goes to his heart. The muscles in his body tense, and I know what’s about to happen. The feral gleam in his eyes returns with a vengeance.

“Go, Dove. I need to return to my room, and I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Quickly righting my gown, I slide from the table. I pause before heading to the door. The King watches me with wide eyes as I kiss him gently, conveying all I need to with that brief touch.

“I’ll see you tomorrow for more lessons.”

I tuck away his soft smile into my heart and quickly turn from the room. My bare feet move quickly down the carpeted halls. For the first time since I got here, I have no trouble finding my room.

Ducking inside, I quickly shut the door and slid down the front of it. Across from me, the tall mirror reflects me, and I gasp. I hardly recognize myself. My lips are red and swollen. My hair is one dark tangle. My dark eyes glow with a hidden warmth over my rosy cheeks.

I touch my lip and remember the feel of the King’s. The feelings inside me rise—as dangerous as sharp knives. I need to end this curse, for everyone’s sake. My resolve to uncover the secrets buried here has never been stronger, yet I’m more conflicted than ever.

After what just happened, I can’t help but think that breaking the curse may give me the chance to stay here with Frosty. Not forever, of course, but at least for a little while.

That’s what I tell myself anyway.