Frosty Relations

by Tara Quan

  She sighed. “You have no idea what I went through for that up-do.”

  “I never liked it when you tied your hair.” A few more pulls dislodged the coiled bun. The braid unwound into a long queue that reached her ribcage. Placing one hand above her head on the pillar, he reached around her waist and tugged the elastic free.

  She stepped toward him, her head tilting up. Their breaths mingled, her midnight eyes hooded by a dark fan of lowered lashes. “You never seemed to give a damn about how I looked.”

  “For an empath, you’re not much good at reading minds. I almost grabbed you by the ponytail one day with every intention of freezing off the godawful scrunchie. Those things went out of style in the nineties.” She remained motionless as he worked his fingers through the silken strands, unraveling the thick mane until it fanned over her back and surrounded her delicate shoulders. He wanted to see her like this, without a single stitch on her. “There. Much better.”

  Her brows furrowed. “You never considered kissing me before. What changed?”

  Hell if he knew. Ever since he’d watched those bastards drag her away, he’d been faced with several unsettling realizations. He needed her in his home where he could keep her safe, and he would launch the next Ice Age to achieve that goal. Having the right to hold her whenever he pleased, to touch her wherever he desired, superseded all of his other priorities. To top off the series of odd revelations, he wanted her to run into his arms the way she had tonight at least once a day—no, more often than that.

  Trying to find a single cohesive explanation for all the caveman-like urges that had bubbled to the fore in the past thirty minutes gave him a headache, so he resolved not to give it any more thought. He’d much rather act out every compulsion that came to mind.

  He’d always been fascinated by her skin—pale and snowy white, but worlds apart from his own, the texture finer, smoother, and interlaced with hints of gold. So he brushed his lips over her lowered eyelids, trailed them down her small nose, and slid them over her soft, round cheeks. His tongue lashed out to tease the corner of her mouth, capitalized on her quick intake of breath to push inside.

  He tasted her, the hesitant reciprocal tangling not enough to take even the slightest edge off his hunger. Circling her neck with both hands, he held her captive and took control of the sensuous dance. Later, much later, he might regain the patience to take things slow and easy.

  When she sagged against his chest, he broke the kiss. “What am I feeling?”

  He needed her to tell him. He couldn’t explain the pounding in his ears or the electric heat coating his skin. Her swollen lips incited a hunger he didn’t understand—a visceral need to claim more than her body, to keep her with him long after tonight.

  Her lashes hovered over her pale cheeks. Then her lids lifted to reveal those chocolate eyes. Beneath the glaze of arousal, he detected a hint of trepidation. “Confusion, euphoria, possession, desire, and a dozen other things.”

  All the words fit, but their combination eluded comprehension. Focusing on the most potent impulse, he slid one hand under the hem of her short crimson dress and ran his palm up her thigh. “This might get a little cold.”

  Protecting her skin with a thin layer of pure energy, he froze the tights so fast they disintegrated into powdery ice. Gasping, she grabbed the sides of his upper arms, her slender fingers clinging to his shirt. “My panties….”

  He’d gotten rid of those, too. “Oops.”

  His erection strained against tented trousers, his cock so hard the zipper dug into the ridge. Deciding to give her a taste of his discomfort, he wedged his knee between her legs. Pushing her against the wall, he grabbed her butt and lifted, positioning his crotch over the crimson silk that had bunched up to form an inadequate layer of protection. Her hands lifted to his shoulders, her grasp tightening as he ground into her.

  She gasped, her lids fluttering each time he pumped his hips. After watching the way she reacted to the indirect stimulation, he couldn’t wait to fuck her. But, first, he needed to see her naked.

  Deciding to keep her in this vulnerable position, he conjured a slab of ice to form a ledge under her ass. She yelped, her eyes growing wide as he smoothed his palms up her front and yanked at the fabric buttons under her collar. “I like this dress. I’d rather leave it in one piece.”

  His hands on her chest, he could feel the erratic rise and fall of her every breath. “There’s…there’s a back zipper.”

  That mystery solved, he trailed fingers over the patterned scarlet-and-gold surface. With his thumb, he traced the shape of a puckered nipple. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

  Her cheeks turned a deeper red. “The dress doesn’t leave enough room.”

  The painted-on garment had driven him crazy ever since she first got into his car. Managing to drive home without crashing was a minor miracle. The moment she took off her coat, he’d wanted to explore her subtle curves, to rend the silk to shreds and spread her thighs.

  Closing a hand over her breast, he squeezed. When her mouth parted, he took possession. Melting away the ledge’s edge until a few inches remained, he caught her waist and held her in place. He matched his tongue’s rhythm to the shifting of his hips, grinding into her as he plundered. Trembling, she arched her back and clung to his shoulders. With a surrendering moan, her teeth scraped over his lower lip, a softer, more hesitant version of the caress he’d inflicted mere moments ago.

  The kiss dragged on in an unrelenting crescendo. She yanked his shirt out of the waistband and ran her hands up his back. The slide of skin against skin sent an electric jolt to his cock, her fevered exploration turning his zipper into an instrument of torture. He retaliated by sucking her tongue into his mouth, by tormenting her lower lip while milking her breasts with both hands. Her roaming fingers jerked, closing to form fists against his shoulder blades.

  The inferno inside him demanding more, he inserted one hand between her and the ice, running his palm up her spine until he reached the clasp at the collar. In a single, smooth move, he pulled the zipper down to her lower back.

  When he grabbed the parted silk and tried to yank it off her shoulders, she broke the kiss and pushed him back. Panting, she leaned against the ice and moved one hand to clutch the dress to her chest. Her eyes glued to his face, she slid her free arm out of the sleeve before mirroring the motion on the other side. Holding the fabric in place, she canted her head. “You first.”

  He took a step back to take in the view. Her legs bared and spread, with a swath of crimson obscuring her front, she presented an erotic picture against the glittering ice. The flames at their side danced off her almost-naked form. Creamy skin contrasted with her ebony hair, its subtle golden hints highlighted by the flickering yellow-and-orange light. If he didn’t get to see the body under that dress soon, he’d go insane.

  He stepped closer, pressing into her once more. “Give me a hand.”

  A mischievous grin dimpling her cheeks, she batted her eyelashes. Without her moving a muscle, his buttons came undone, one after the other. When his shirt parted, he shook his head and lowered his arms. “Cheater.”

  “You’re the one who’s freezing me to death. The wall isn’t icy, but the air’s still cold.” The starched cotton slid over his shoulders, down his limbs, and fell to the floor. “Want me to drop your pants, too?”

  He lifted an eyebrow in challenge. “Go ahead.” After the stunt she’d pulled earlier tonight, he doubted she had much more magic up her sleeve.

  After her next attempt at telekinesis resulted in no more than a slight vibration around his hips, she huffed out a breath. Keeping her left hand over her chest, she wrestled his belt buckle with her right. After some halfhearted yanking resulted in nothing more than his growing erection, he grabbed the darn thing and undid it. Groaning with relief as the trousers’ fastenings came apart, he shoved his pants down along with his underwear.

  Kicking them off his feet, he rose to see her balancing on the ledge, her back plastered
to the wall. “Why are you making a weird face?”

  She licked her lips. “You’re bigger than…than I expected.”

  He turned to give her a profile view. “Have you heard the saying, ‘it’s not the size, it’s how you use it’?”

  She bit her lip but failed to suppress a laugh. “Maybe.”

  Facing her, he closed the distance between them. “It’s a load of bull.”

  She chortled and wobbled on the edge. Extending both arms, she braced her weight on his chest. The dress fell to circle her waist. Trepidation replaced some of the mirth in her eyes as she stared up at him.

  Though he’d gotten the briefest glimpse, the flash of delicate curves sent more blood pooling to his groin. From this angle, he had an unimpeded view of her back—an expanse of smooth flesh leading to a tiny waist and rounded bottom. Her nipples brushed his skin, her breasts soft against his much-harder chest.

  Her lips parted, her eyes widening as her shoulders sagged. She blew out a breath.

  He shook his head, marveling at how clueless she could be. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t think straight.”

  The corners of her mouth curved up. “You’re telling the truth.”

  “Of course I am.” He pushed her shoulders back against the ice. “Stay still and let me look at you.”

  He cupped her breasts, weighing them with his hands. Though shy of filling his palms, the pert globes appeared lush against her delicate frame. Rosy nipples tipped off the porcelain perfection, begging to be pinched and sucked. His gaze dropped to her belly, his fingers tracing the shadowed grooves of muscle accentuated by the firelight. He followed the shifting lines past her navel to the smooth triangle between her legs. When he slid his thumb over her slit, slippery wetness coated his skin.

  “Jack….”

  Plumping her left breast with one hand, he lowered his head and closed his mouth over the tip. She whimpered and pushed at his shoulders, her spine arching and her butt scooting back. Trapped between him and a glacial wall, she had nowhere to run. As his tongue circled, he breached her with a finger, invading her tight channel.

  Soft cries echoed around him. He scraped his teeth over the pink bud before biting lightly down. Her hands clamped around his head, pulling him into her chest as her hips shifted toward his invasion. Distracting her with a hard suck, he pushed a second digit into her.

  “Fuck.…” Her fingers curled around his hair before her arms dropped to her sides.

  Feeling her muscles tense, he pulled out by a fraction. Relinquishing her breast, he lifted his head so he could see her face. “I didn’t peg you for the dirty-talking type.”

  She’d squeezed her eyes shut. “And you talk too much.”

  Considering his options, he used his thumb to part her labia before pressing the pad over her clit. When he circled, her eyes popped open. Chuckling, he asked, “Really?”

  She glared at him. Shallow gasps punctuated her words. “Don’t… sound… so… smug.”

  He continued to stimulate her, his mouth curving when her hands fisted. With her distracted, he spread his fingers and pumped them in and out, readying her for the next item on his agenda. “Any chance you’re on the pill?”

  Moaning, she shook her head.

  It’d been worth a shot. “Okay, well, think about how you can get a condom over here while I do this.”

  Kneeling between her legs, he removed his thumb and replaced it with his mouth.

  “Wait….” She grabbed his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his deltoids. Sucking her clit, he swirled his tongue around it, burying his fingers deep inside her in the same instant. She tried to close her legs. Her knees clamped over his upper arms.

  He countered her futile resistance by blowing a gust of frigid air over her clit, warming it an instant later with his tongue. She whimpered. “Oh God…I’m about to….” Quickening his penetration, he switched between hot and cold until she screamed, her inner muscles clamping in a flurry around his fingers.

  Wiping his mouth, he freed his hand and glanced up to find her eyes closed, her skin pink and covered in sweat. A circle of purple foil packets on the floor caught his eye. The crafty little witch must have teleported them over while he’d been busy making her come.

  He grabbed the closest condom and stood. Reading the label, he shook his head. Only a woman would buy the ultra-thin maximum sensations variety.

  Her heavy lids had lifted by the time he finished smoothing on the latex. He gestured at the extra protection on floor with a tilt of his head. “You think we have enough?”

  Her breaths still shallow, her eyes widened. Then one corner of her mouth lifted. “That depends on your performance.”

  Grabbing her waist, he positioned his cock against her slick opening. “I’m an exceed-expectations kind of guy.”

  Pulling his head down, she bit his lower lip. “Oh yeah?”

  “Always.”

  Sealing her mouth with his own, he held her in place and pushed forward, laying claim on her inch by torturous inch. She was tight as a fist. Breaking the kiss, he slid his hands under her ass, bracing her weight as he willed away the icy ledge that had kept her in position. When she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he relaxed his muscles and allowed gravity to bring her down, impaling her on his cock until he was buried to the hilt.

  He groaned. “You have no idea how good this feels.”

  Resting her head in the crook of his neck, she whispered into his ear, “Empath, remember?” Then she clenched her inner muscles, squeezing his length and nearly sending him over the edge.

  He stepped backward until his calf met a covered block of ice. A dozen unvoiced expletives racing through his head, he bent his knees and sat on the white fur. “Move.”

  Her hands on his shoulders, she straddled him, her knees on either side of his thighs. In a slow, sinuous shift, she lifted her bottom until only the tip of his shaft was surrounded in damp heat. “Or what?”

  Placing the pad of his thumb over her clit, he sent through a low hum of energy—enough for a chilled vibration. She clawed his delts, her breath turning shallow once more. When he moved his hand down, her hips followed it. He rewarded the maddening shimmy with another pulse. “You can take more of me than that.”

  When she didn’t respond fast enough, he grabbed her waist with both hands and yanked her down. She gasped as he filled her, her small body writhing on his lap. Inserting his fingers once more between them, he circled the bundle of nerves. He hadn’t heard her scream enough.

  Her eyes hooding at the direct stimulation, she bent her head forward, her long hair falling to brush his abs. The cascade of silk framed her torso, drawing his attention to her chest. Lifting his free arm, he circled her breast’s coral tip with his index finger, leaving behind a thin ring of ice. Her back arched. Her hips shifted forward.

  Her slick channel slid down his length, the friction an exquisite torture. As a reward, he treated her other breast to the same magic, the cold clamp forcing both to erect attention. He laved the first nipple with his tongue, circled until all the frost melted. His fingers danced over her clit, drawing her forward and back, luring her to ride him. Her inexperience showed—her rhythm too erratic, her impalement too shallow and languid to satisfy his needs. But fighting not to come had never been this close to impossible.

  He switched to her other breast, his tongue drawing high-pitched cries from her throat. When she dug her fingernails into her skin, he flicked his thumb and sent her once more over the precipice. Her orgasm milked his cock, the relaxing and tensing of muscles a symphony of exquisite pleasure and torture. His control snapping, he grabbed her thighs and stood.

  Spinning in place, tumbled her back on the fur-covered ice. He pumped his hips, savoring her moans as he drove into her in an unrelenting rhythm. Her arms and legs tightened around him, her breasts flattening against his chest. She bit his shoulder, her screams muffled as he took her hard and fast.

  Each thrust layered another wave of pleasure, the
friction building until the cascade approached pain. His perception narrowed to only encompass the woman in his arms—the scent of musk and spice, the feel of sweat-slicked skin and soft pliant flesh. His vision turned red, his cock threatening to explode.

  Cold fire bloomed behind his closed lids. She spasmed, her entire body tensing as she threw her head back and moaned his name. Surrendering to the blaze, he hurtled them into oblivion.

  Chapter Six

  As Jack began to lose circulation in his left arm, he glanced around his glacial penthouse and came to a decision. He needed to buy some actual furniture. When he’d moved in, the prospect of picking shit out and having it delivered hadn’t appealed. So he’d conjured what he needed as the days went by and, a week later, ended up with an apartment covered in ice.

  Since he’d never planned to bring anyone home, he hadn’t cared too much about normalcy. The temperature in here suited him to perfection, but Mina came from much less sturdy stock. The surfaces might warm on touch, but the massive amount of ice chilled the air. She couldn’t venture more than a few feet away from the fireplace without her teeth chattering. By the time she trekked over to the master bathroom, she’d gotten so cold she’d decided to draw a bath. When he went searching for her, it led to some interesting new uses for the air jets.

  But the tub got tepid real quick, due in part to the fact that he’d encased it in a miniature glacier. So they ended up back where they started, with her small form engulfed in one of his dress shirts, curled up on the rug.

  Maybe he should add blankets to the shopping list. He’d never needed them, but he could see why a few might come in handy. While he had very fond memories of the twelve or so square feet they occupied, staying there didn’t seem like a long-term solution without additional sources of warmth.

  Not that he was sure this thing with her was heading anywhere, or anything crazy like that. But it didn’t hurt to make plans for the weekend, or the next couple of weeks, or hell, maybe even the next few months.