Page 91 of Heart of Frost and Scars

He lifts me, braces my rear against the counter, and drags me over the fat head of his dick.

Our eyes connect, and a strangled groan vibrates in his throat as he works me down his thick length.

The pressure, the heat, the beautiful, burning pleasure as he pushes harder, deeper, trembling, all-consuming—it’s glorious. Even with his cock stuffed only midway in, I feel it twitching, swelling, throbbing root to tip.

The sensations slam into me, sharp and loud, thundering through my body with unholy desire.

Holding me still, he retreats a few inches. Then another hard push, a choked gasp between us, and sweet blessed hell, he’s in, buried to the hilt.

“Why are you so big?” I sink my hands into his lush hair.

“Why are you so tight?” He adjusts his grip on my ass.

Then he moves, ramming that monster up between my legs like a piston, filling, shattering, shocking me like it’s my first time. Every flex of his hips drives a punching fist inside me, a stinging blow of howling, clawing ecstasy.

Our bodies press tightly together, climbing closer, clinging harder, my inner thighs rubbing against his hips. He uses the strength of his legs to dig deeper, stroking all that hardness along every nerve and pleasure center inside me.

I cry out against his wet lips. His responding groan vibrates the walls. Shakes the whole damn island. He’s pure sexual power, insatiable and tireless, maddening in his ability to go for hours, and exhausting to compete with. A competition I’ve never won.

My entire body shudders and ripples, twitching toward the peak amid the flames of his pounding, primal virility. Hard to breathe while writhing in his intoxicating heat and ferocious kisses.

The man is a beast. A beast who kisses like he’s staring down death. Who understands the value of each breath. Who earns every precious inhale and exhale. Who conquers demons and arctic blizzards with his woman at his side as we fight and fuck and reach for the future with forever in the palms of our entwined hands.

“I love you.” His dark head lowers to mine, those black bear eyes peering into my soul, asserting his declaration, and sealing it with another blistering kiss.

I breathe the words back, into his mouth, down his throat, and over the scars that lie in the deep.

There’s nothing sexier than a man who fucks with his whole heart. His heavy balls slap with his thrusts, dripping with my arousal, as his cock drives and swivels and batters into me with an urgency that shoves us both to the edge.

Bucking, kissing, panting, groaning, we set the air around us on fire. The fullness, the delicious grind, the sloppy fluids leaking everywhere, stretch me to the brink of unraveling.

Then I do.

I come undone, jolting, shouting, drowning in shimmering, body-shaking bliss. I spasm and clench, clamping down on the beast, milking him as he stares into my eyes, pumping, roaring, and spilling his hot come inside me.

Dizzying, gasping relief sinks us to the floor, tangled in a sweaty pile of wobbly arms and legs. Collapsing onto his chest, I can’t lift my eyelids, let alone my head.

When he catches his breath, he spreads me out on the floor and licks the mess from my body. From ass to cunt and along my thighs, he glides his tongue, cleaning every last drop from my sensitive flesh.

He’s a fucking animal, and I love it.

“What about you?” I gesture to his come-coated cock. “My turn.”

“You put that mouth on me, and you won’t leave this kitchen floor tonight.” He stuffs himself away.

With a gentleness that contradicts the way he fucks, he dresses me, straightens my hair, and carries me to the couch.

Settling me on his lap, he reclines in a sighing, torpid, post-coital sprawl.

Then his eyes capture mine. “Now we’re at a place where we can fix this.”

Damn this man. He fucked all the anger out of me, and now I just want to curl up and cuddle.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

19

Frankie

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