Ice Man

by Samantha Winston

  He pushed her knees even wider apart and with a strong thrust, buried himself to the hilt. A shockwave rippled through her cunt as his cock seemed to split her wide open. Her vision went dark. She thrashed back and forth, submerged by the sensations of pain and pleasure. Too deep, too strong, too good, oh God it felt good! She dragged air into her burning lungs, gasping his name. “Kell!”

  The pelts beneath her rubbed up and down her back as she moved, and her scalp tingled with static electricity. She dug her fingers into the soft fur, clutching it as hard as she could.

  His cock quivered like a livewire inside of her as he held himself perfectly still, his hands gripping her thighs, the tendons standing out on his neck. A loud groan rumbled in his throat and he pulled out again, her juices dripping from his cock. His breathing grew harsher and his hands trembled on her thighs, but his grip didn’t lessen. He thrust into her, inch by inch, and then with another deep growl he pulled out, resting his cock on her belly.

  “No!” She needed him in her--she needed him so much it tore at her soul. Her nipples ached, her breasts jiggled as she raised her hips, pushing against his hands. She might have been pushing against steel girders. His fingers tightened, gripping her thighs to the point of pain

  Effortlessly, he held her immobile. Then with a wolfish grin, he pulled back and thrust into her, all his weight and strength behind his cock, impaling her right to her womb. Another starburst of pleasure/pain blinded her. She cried out, incapable of stopping herself, as her body convulsed and a tumult of throbbing seized her cunt. An orgasm stronger than any she’d ever experienced ripped through her. Helplessly, she watched as her belly contracted. Her cunt clamped onto his cock and suddenly he tipped his head back and howled again as his cock pulsed inside her. She could feel stream after stream of hot seed hitting her cervix, and it pushed her over the edge.

  She heard herself screaming, harsh cries mingled with his roars, and as he collapsed on top of her, her last thought glimmered like a star in the darkness. This man had waited over two thousand years for her.

  Chapter Two

  My name is Kellorin Branson. I have fought the invaders and chased them from my lands. I have traded with many people, even the barbarians from the western forests, and I have traveled many leagues. I have seen different lands, learned much of men and beasts, but I know not where I am now, nor how I came to be here.

  Kell looked at the woman sleeping on the furs. If he woke her, she might tell him what he wanted to know, but he was loath to disturb her slumber. A strong, protective feeling towards her surprised him. He’d never imagined himself as particularly demonstrative. This one had changed all that. A smile tugged at his mouth as he stared at her. Small, strong, red-haired and fair-skinned like a true Celt, with wide hips and breasts made for sucking and kneading. Just the thought of touching her skin made his cock harden again. He stroked it absently and looked around the room. He recognized some things. Others left him perplexed. Puzzles intrigued him; he remembered that much about his former life.

  One thing he noticed right away was the absence of odors in this place. His sensitive nose flared as he tested the air, but he smelled nothing familiar…except the rich, heady scent of the woman’s sex and the sharper smell of his own seed. He was sticky and wanted to wash, but the other thing he’d noticed was the absence of any door. How did one leave this room? He quelled a prickle of fear and moved to inspect the walls. Familiar, yet strange, the logs seemed too perfect, fitting together without the usual chinks and drafts an old longhouse invariably had. For he recognized the dwelling as a longhouse, but that told him nothing, he could be anywhere from the Tenes kingdom to the far north where the invaders called Vikings lived.

  And what season could it be? The fire warmed the longhouse, but there should be eddies of cold air, the smell of old smoke and sweat if winter froze the land. It could not be summer, for no mosquitoes whined about the room, and no moths fluttered in the firelight.

  He stooped and touched the floor. Wide planks, evenly hewn and sanded, but where were the signs of wear? Everything looked newly made, yet the fire pit in the middle of the room seemed old, and the woven blankets on the benches looked worn. Animal skins lay about; he recognized wolf, deer and bear skins.

  He sat near the fire and pulled his knees up, resting his chin on his arms. His mind felt clear; he could recall most of his life now, but still huge holes remained. He couldn’t remember how he’d died, and that upset him, for some reason. This place could be paradise, but he doubted it. Men had made the objects he saw, but some things could have been made by the gods. Some things made no sense to him, like the small piece of ice in the crack in the wall.

  The ice intrigued him; it should have melted. He took a look around but saw nothing sharp or pointed. His knife no longer hung at his waist. He’d woken up nude, which hadn’t worried him. Not having a knife did worry him. He stood and looked carefully around the room. Benches covered with furs lined the walls; there was a stone fire pit, a stack of firewood, a few covered baskets and a pitcher and a cup of water. Everything looked familiar yet strange.

  Taking a piece of firewood, he tapped sharply on a hot rock from the fire pit and split off a sliver of stone. He used the stone to pry the piece of ice out of the wall, and then he stared, perplexed, at the object in his palm. It glittered like ice but wasn’t cold. And other things clung to it, little strands of colored yarn. He poked at it, trying to make sense of the object. A trickle of fear shivered down his spine, but he didn’t know why. Then a soft sound alerted him and he turned.

  Allie opened her eyes. She couldn’t believe she’d fallen asleep. No, not true. She could easily believe. Her body still ached from Kell’s lovemaking. She raised her head and searched for him. He stood by the wall, examining something in his hand. Something small and glittery.

  Sudden panic shot her to her feet. Somehow he’d pried the camera right out of the wall! If only he’d done that sooner. A nervous giggle shook her. What must the scientists think of her? Who cared? She pulled her dress on and went to him.

  He saw her coming and a smile lit up his face. She’d never thought about that expression being literally true until now. His grin split his face and his eyes twinkled. “Hail, Allie, did you have a good sleep?” he asked in Latin.

  “Aye, thank you. Don’t you prefer to speak Celt?”

  “It matters not. Look, what do you think of this?” He held out his hand, the remains of a tiny camera in it.

  “What do you think it is?” she asked cautiously. What could she tell him? He’d have to know sometime what had happened to him. A psychologist would come in handy right now.

  He shook his head. “I have no idea. I believed it to be ice at first, but now I see it is made of glass and some silver. There is what looks like coal too, but oddly melted, and this type of yarn I have never seen.” He held up a tiny, plastic covered wire He looked almost forlorn for a moment, and then his expression hardened. “I had hoped you could tell me where I am, and how I died.”

  Allie sighed inwardly. The truth would be the best thing to tell him. At least, she hoped so. She nodded and patted the bench nearest the fire. “Come sit down next to me.”

  He did, his presence nearly overwhelming her. His scent filled her nostrils, acrid and male. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his legs and sat, waiting for her to speak.

  “You died in the wintertime, and you must have been on a journey far to the north. Do you remember any of that?”

  He closed his eyes, his nostrils growing white as he drew a deep breath. Eyes still closed, he said, “I remember Tor shouting, and Vix crying out something about the ice breaking. We were further north than we’d ever been, but we searched for something.” His face twisted. “We searched for women. Stolen by the invaders. Tor’s wife. Vix’s sister. Other women from our tribe. I do remember that much. But after Vix’s cry, I know not what happened.”

  “You must have fallen into a crevice in the glacier and landed in water just on
the verge of freezing solid.” Pity lanced her heart. Everything he’d known or loved was lost.

  “Falling.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “All is darkness around me, darkness and cold. Even when I woke up. How is that possible? How can I awake after death, unless this is the afterlife and I am a shade? Am I a shade? Answer me.” His eyes, the irises so dark brown as to appear almost black, beseeched her.

  Allie took his hand and held it tightly. “No, you’re not a shade. You are alive. In reality, you never died, not completely anyway. You fell into a deep sleep caused by the cold, and our doctors woke you up.”

  His expression cleared. “So that is it! I am in the far north, and that is why everything looks strange. Tell me, where are Vix and Tor? I need to rejoin my companions so that we may search for our women.”

  A sharp pain tightened Allie’s throat; how could she tell him? Her hesitation must have been eloquent, because he suddenly froze, his eyes clouding. “They are dead, is that it?”

  Miserably she nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. We never found them. And Kell, I have to tell you something important. Listen.”

  But he stood up, brushing her aside. “Perhaps I can find them on my own. Will your tribe help me? Are there warriors among your men willing to come with me to the land of the invaders to rescue the women?”

  Mutely she stared at him, willing him to understand. His body grew very still. “What is it? Do you know something about them too?”

  “No.” She wished he would sit down but he stood in front of her, superb, and as completely unaware of his naked body as a wild animal. It distracted her, but she had to tell him the terrible truth of his situation. “Sit, please.”

  Instead he strode back and forth in front of her. The impression she had of a wild animal grew stronger. He walked like a panther, or a wolf, each movement controlled and fluid. He paced, his face a mask of distress. “I never died, but my friends are lost as are the women we seek, is that it?”

  “You slept for a long time, longer than you can ever imagine. Everyone you knew is gone, the world has changed and time…has passed you by.” She faltered, unsure how to continue.

  “I can imagine time better if you told me how long it has been since I fell into the ice.” His voice raised goose bumps on her arms. “If the world has changed, tell me, are any of my tribe still left?”

  “It has been more than two thousand years.”

  He missed a step. “What did you say?” His face turned ashen and he put his hand on the wall to steady himself. The remains of the camera fell on the floor and he looked at them. Wordlessly he knelt and picked the piece of wire up, holding it as if it could bite. His hand trembled then stilled. Pale, he gazed at her, his eyes twin wells of bottomless pain. “For two thousand years I slept while my people lived and died? Are there any of my blood left?” A shudder racked him. “It matters not. I am alone. I understand that.”

  Allie wanted to tell him that he wasn’t alone, that she was with him, but his eyes held so much pain she couldn’t speak--the words locked in her throat. Tears filled her eyes so that she could hardly see him.

  And then the door opened a crack. Instantly, he whirled around, putting himself between her and the sliver of light that appeared. She put her hand on his arm, intending to tell him not to be afraid, when she heard a sharp crack. A red, plumed dart suddenly bloomed in his arm and he jerked, but he didn’t let go if her.

  “What the…?” she gasped.

  “Don’t move! I’ll protect you.” He yanked the dart from his arm and she recognized a tranquilizer dart. Why? What was going on?

  “Someone shoots strange arrows at us. How do we get out of here?” His voice slurred and he shook his head. “What happens to me? By Lug, I see only darkness!” His voice shook and Allie screamed as he sank to the floor, unconscious.

  “What is going on?” Oh God, don’t let him be hurt. How could they do this to him?

  The door opened fully and she saw Dr. Paula and Captain Bide. The Captain held a gun. Dr. Paula rushed in and seized Allie’s arm.

  “You poor thing! Raped by a savage! Come, I’m taking you to the infirmary. We’ll take care of you. Do you want a tranquilizer?”

  Allie pulled her arm free. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “He became violent.”

  “We made love!” Allie had to clench her teeth so as not to scream again. “You did ask about his mating ceremonies as I recall. How dare you shoot him? What do you think you’re doing?”

  Dr. Paula gaped at her. “I said ask about it, not actually participate in one!”

  The captain strode into the room and prodded Kell with his foot. “He’s sleeping. Let’s put him in restraints. Then you can ask him the list of questions we prepared.” He shoved a paper at Allie. “Don’t show this to anyone else. That is an order. Come on, let’s go, team!”

  Mr. Smith, flanked by three other men, came in and got Kell. They carried him out of the room and into another room, this time all in white, with a table and fastenings. They strapped him down and stood guard by the door. Allie followed at their heels, panicked that Kell might wake up and find himself in such strange, modern surroundings.

  “You shouldn’t have him here,” she said furiously, turning to Dr. Paula.

  “He’s proven that he can be dangerous. You poor thing! Come, let me take you to the infirmary,” insisted Dr. Paula. She held up the bear claw necklace. “You should have worn this. It would have made him respect you. I’m an anthropologist and I know what I’m talking about.”

  Allie wanted to stay with Kell but the scientists shooed her away. Damn! She glared at Dr. Paula. “Well, I hope you got all your notes straight about the mating ceremony.”

  “I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” huffed Dr. Paula, two bright red spots appearing on her cheeks. “Luckily the fireplace blocked most of the action. I couldn’t watch. I let the men look. They certainly seemed to enjoy the show.”

  Allie wanted to choke the woman with her bear claw necklace, but she followed her to the showers without replying. It would do no good to start a fight. She’d wash up and find out what they wanted with Kell. Something didn’t seem right here. She clutched the paper Captain Bide had given her. Once alone in the showers, she looked at it.

  What year were you born? Where were you born? What languages do you speak? Did you go to school? Have you ever been to Russia? Do you work for the Russians? Have you heard of…

  Confused, Allie peered at the rest of the questions. It seemed to her that the scientists believed that Kell worked for the Russians as a spy. Why they thought such a thing was beyond her, unless they hadn’t told her everything.

  After her shower, Mr. Smith came to get her. He took her to a cubbyhole of a room, an office with a fax machine and a computer, and coldly told her that she wouldn’t be needed until the next day. “Tonight we’ll be doing some physical experiments with the subject. Try to get some rest,” he sneered.

  “What makes you think he’s a Russian spy?” She’d never been one to hedge.

  He narrowed his eyes. For a second she feared he wouldn’t answer, but he did. “A team of Russian scientists found him. When we arrived, they gave up their discovery rather too quickly and it made us suspicious. Did you know the Russians have perfected the art of cryogenics? It’s true. We think they planted this man in ice so that he could spy on us.”

  “But why?”

  “Don’t you think we have discoveries the Russians want too? We’ve been trying to find out about cryogenics for ages. If he’s real, we’ll use his body to find out more about how the ice preserved his vital organs such as his brain. If he’s a fake, he’ll soon find he’d have been better off back home.”

  “Who else thinks he’s a fake?”

  “Captain Bide and I think he’s a fake. Dr. Paula and her team of specialists think he’s for real. But whatever the truth is--it doesn’t matter. He’s our chance to study cryogenics and catch up with the Russians.”

&nb
sp; “What do you mean, it doesn’t matter? What are you going to do with him?”

  He leaned against the doorway and gave her a calculating look. Instinctively, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Can you see him living in the modern world? If he is for real, he doesn’t have a chance in a million to fit in anywhere. He’d be a freak--hell, he is a freak--and he’s unpredictable and dangerous. Look what he did with you. He sees a woman and rapes her. Maybe that was fine from his time, but this is civilization. He won’t fit in.”

  “So you’re going to keep him here forever?” She blinked, still not wanting to believe what she heard.