Page 53 of Jilted By Jack Frost

His expression softens into that rare, genuine smile that still makes my heart skip. “Indeed, I did, little mate. Indeed, I did.”

I adjust my crown for the hundredth time, still not used to its weight, as another well-wisher approaches. Jack’s hand rests at the small of my back, his thumb making small circles that send pleasant tingles up my spine.

“I still can’t believe you married the actual Jack Frost.” Alana shakes her head, champagne glass in hand. “Like, the one who makes snow days happen.”

“Among other things.” I lean into Jack’s solid frame.

“And you’re sure about this whole ice princess thing?”

“Lady,” Jack corrects, his voice carrying that formal tone he uses with others. “She’s my Lady.”

I bite back a smile at his possessiveness. “I’m sure, Alana. More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.”

Jack shifts beside me, his fingers pressing more firmly against my back. When I glance up, I catch him staring at my lips.

“Well, you two are sickeningly cute together.” Alana downs the rest of her champagne. “Though I still say this place needs better heating.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me anymore.” I reach up to touch the delicate frost flowers adorning my crown. “Side effect of being Winter’s mate.”

Jack’s breath hitches. His ice-blue eyes darken as they meet mine, and the temperature around us drops several degrees.

“Okay, that’s my cue to mingle elsewhere.” Alana backs away with a knowing smirk. “Don’t freeze anyone while I’m gone.”

I barely register her departure. Jack’s hand slides to my hip, pulling me closer. “We should leave,” he murmurs against my ear.

“We have guests—”

“They can celebrate without us.” His lips brush my temple, leaving a trail of frost that melts instantly against my warm skin. “I’ve waited centuries for you. I don’t want to wait another moment.”

The raw need in his voice makes my heart race. “Jack...”

“Please.”

That single word, spoken so softly, breaks my resolve. I nod, and a rare smile spreadsacross his face.

My heart pounds in my chest as Jack’s transporting magic swirls around us, a dizzying rush of frost and wind that whisks us away from the celebration.

The world blurs, a kaleidoscope of icy blues and stark whites, and then we’re standing in the heart of our private chambers. The air here is thick with the scent of pine and the faint, sweet perfume of frost flowers.

Jack’s hands are on me before my feet have fully adjusted to the solid ground, his touch both gentle and insatiable.

“I need you,” he breathes, the words a whispered vow against my lips.

I answer with a soft moan, my body already aching for his. My fingers find the clasp of his ceremonial cloak, tugging it free so that the heavy fabric pools at his feet. Beneath, his suit is a sleek, dark contrast to his pale blue skin, and I trace the line of his broad shoulders, the muscles taut with anticipation.

He catches my wrists, pulling me closer, and the room temperature plummets. Tiny crystals of ice dance in the air, swirling around us like a private snowstorm.

“You are my undoing,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that I feel in my bones.

His mouth crashes into mine with fierce hunger, his tongue claiming every inch as his hands grip my hips and pull me hard against him.

“You are my thaw,” his frost-touched lips brush my ear. His words send heat pooling between my legs.

I raise onto my tiptoes, pressing my lips to the column of his throat. His skin is cool against my mouth, his body trembles as my lips trace a path to his ear.

“Then melt for me,” I murmur, pressing my body against his, my fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

With a swift motion, Jack lifts me off my feet, carrying me to the massive bed draped in furs and velvet.

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