Page 38 of Of Rime and Ruin (Sirens of Adria #2)

I mount with her, so our chests meet. Heart to heart, that’s the best way to warm her. I unbutton my shirt, exposing bare skin.

She gasps, eyes widening. “W-what happened to you?”

With cold fingers, she traces the web of scars on my stomach, each one a memento of a fight I can’t remember. My muscles clench at her touch.

“Don’t worry about it,” I grunt.

Her brow puckers, but she wraps her legs around my waist wordlessly and tangles her fingers in my hair. My chest tightens, and I wonder if she can feel the gallop of my heart.

“You’re so warm.” She presses her face to my skin and shudders.

That’s not good.

I’m the fucking Frost King. I’m practically made of ice. If the princess thinks I’m warm, something is seriously fucked up.

“Warm up,” I order her. “I’m gonna find you a fucking hat.”

I squeeze my thighs, urging the snowbear forward. Slowly, the hunters regain course. I pass several on my way to the front and manage to borrow an icefox fur cap.

“Here,” I grunt, tugging it over her ears.

With wide brown eyes, she stares at me. Gone is her usual defiance, the ever-burning flame of insolence. Only softness remains. She’s goddessdamn beautiful.

Have I noticed before?

Her brown skin flushes, speckled with golden freckles across her petite nose and full cheeks. Dark lashes frame her ever-watching eyes. The soft curve of her lips is perfection, as they pale with the remnants of frostbite. Would her lips be cold if I kissed her now? Should I warm them for her?

The longer she looks at me, the harder my heart pounds.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Her breath spills over my chest, those plump lips parting.

“You need to warm up slowly,” I tell her. “So unfortunately for us, that means skin-to-skin contact. Can you undo your sweater?” I glance at the small buttons entrapping her bosom, small pieces of dark stone threaded into the wool. Ten of them, good goddess . My throat tightens.

Her breasts rise and fall with her shallow breathing. With clumsy fingers, she grasps at the buttons.

“Here,” I grunt. I pinch the top one and push it through the hole. She spills through the opening, and my fingers brush her soft skin.

I freeze. Is this… okay? My head swims, clouded with a sudden pang of desire. It takes every ounce of my control not to take her breasts into my hands, bury my face between them, and become lost to the world.

Her hands fall into her lap, and she tilts her chest, giving me more room to work. I swallow thickly.

“Well, you d-d-do it, then,” she huffs. “It must b-be done.”

Carefully, I manage the rest of the buttons. With every pull, the restraint loosens. My hands skitter past her belly button, the soft rolls of her stomach, until finally the last button comes loose. I peel back the wool, revealing her bare, heavy breasts. Not a clinging starfish in sight.

My breath catches in my throat. Fuck me, they’re perfect.

Then she adjusts her position in the saddle, snuggling closer. As she presses against me, I can feel the stiff buds of her nipples. Her legs constrict around my waist, and she settles on my stiffening cock. She swirls her hands in my hair, twisting tighter. Tighter. Fuck.

“Stay still, Princess.”

She wiggles again, and fuck if I can help the responding twitch in my cock. “But you off-f-fered your hosp-p-pitality. Who am I to refuse?”

My hand moves of its own accord. I slide up her arm, gliding over the fabric and slipping around the chilled skin of her neck. My thumb brushes the faint lines of her hidden gills. A snarl ripples from my mouth.

Something inside of me comes undone, releasing a slow bleed of emotion. Darkness swirls in my thoughts. Hunger. Memory.

And in my head resounds the chorus of my being: Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Careful, Sunfish,” I whisper. “You don’t want to outstay your welcome.”

Her weight presses on my erection, and I grit my teeth. She lifts her gaze to my lips, a soft mewl escaping her mouth. “What did you c-call me?”

“I—” I frown.

Her responding smile is as bright as the sun. “Thought so.” I could dissolve in that expression and I’d die happy.

With the last push of my self-control, I release my hold.

Grab the reins. I squeeze my heels, urging the snowbear faster.

The sooner we make camp, the better. Cold wind bites at my face as I tear my gaze away from her.

Focus on the horizon. The stretching white plains.

The teetering rump of the snowbear ahead of me in line.

Anything to distract me from the female in my lap, dragging her nails on the skin of my back.

Nahla is my prisoner. Someone else’s princess. Fucking her would be wrong. I could lose control, explode into the raging Beast. I could hurt her. Maul her. Or worse.

But of this much I’m certain: resisting her will be my undoing.

The animal jostles beneath me, and Nahla’s legs shift. With a growl, I snare her waist. Trap her against me.

“ Still .”

“N-no,” she whispers, tucking her nose into my skin. She inhales and moans quietly. “That s-s-smell. I c-can’t.”

My ears burn with rejection. I’ve always found her smell to be intoxicating. Enchanting. The fucking bane of my existence. It’s ridiculous to expect the same to be true for her. “You’ll have to deal with my scent, sorry. I can’t fix that.”

She shakes her head, dragging the tip of her nose across my chest. “I like it.”

My stomach drops. “Oh.”

“It’s soothing.” She wiggles again, nudging right into my erection. Finally, she grows still. “Oh,” she says. “I’m sorry, are you…?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I growl, clenching my teeth.

She lifts her head with searching eyes. “I thought you hated me.”

“Nahla, there’s an objectively attractive female sitting half-naked on my cock. What did you expect?”

A wry smile spreads her lips. “The terrible Frost King does have feelings,” she says.

“And the troublesome Brine Princess is immune?” As I hold her gaze, I slide my hand down her back to circle the crest of her thigh. She trembles in my arms as my fingers itch and crawl over her tight travel leathers, reaching for the heat that tempts me so. My thumb brushes the seam of her pants.

It’s soaked through.

She inhales. Her eyes flood with need.

“I’m not the only one.” I bring my thumb down, retracing my path. Her smile falters, and she whimpers. Her hips tilt and she presses into my touch. “Admit it, Princess. You want me.”

She grinds her hips into me, slowly, with devastating pressure. I grip her ass. Hard. Pressing her into me as she grinds once more. Twice. She gasps, and her eyelashes flutter. Her body tightens and arches, bending to her need. And then I release her.

She moans. “More.”

I lean closer until my lips brush her ear. “When I fuck you,” I begin. “And I will fuck you, Nahla. But not like this. I’ll fuck you the way you deserve.”

“And what do I deserve, Aethan?” she whispers.

Warmth blooms through my chest. I inhale the scent of her hair—sunshine and snow—and commit it to my memory. Because there’s no going back, once the truth tumbles from my mouth. My lips move, forming the words. “Everything I can give.”