Page 17 of Trapped with the Ice Queen

Vivienne, still reeling from her orgasm, lay there, naked, legs open, and well and truly fucked. She could feel the insides of her pussy still throbbing from the pounding she had just received. She grabbed for the blanket to cover herself, still feeling the sticky liquid between her thighs. After the orgasm aftershocks rocked her body and reality seeped in, she couldn’t help but wonder what the hell happened and what it all meant. For her, for Alex, for both of them.

The cabin's darkness felt different now, charged with unspoken questions and the heat of their encounter. Even the constant howl of the wind couldn't drown out the thundering of her heart.

She rolled over in the bed, preparing for a night of fitful, restless sleep.

6

ALEX

Alex woke with a sharp inhale, the kind that made her ribs ache against the stillness of the cabin. Her gaze darted instinctively to the window, where faint beams of soft morning light filtered in the cabin. The storm outside hadn’t let up, though it carried a strange hush now, the kind that promised it was only gathering strength.

Her body felt like a live wire. Heat still clung to her skin, and an unmistakable ache in her muscles reminded her of the night before. A low, simmering thrill coursed through her as she registered the undeniable weight of Vivienne’s presence over on thebed. The blankets rustled as she shifted on her sofa, careful not to disturb Vivienne.

Alex stared at the ceiling, trying to piece her thoughts together, but chaos reigned in her mind. What the hell had she been thinking? The last thing she should have done was let things escalate. But then...she had.

A sharp exhale escaped her, and she rubbed a hand over her face. It wasn’t just the physical act that was getting to her; it was the way it had felt. A complete unraveling, giving in to the raw, magnetic pull Vivienne had on her. It had been an unrelenting, unapologetic release—a chance to silence Vivienne’s sharp tongue and Alex’s own restless anger all at once. And it had worked, hadn’t it?

Her lips twitched into something between a grimace and a smirk. That woman was maddening and impossible to tolerate for more than five minutes without saying something infuriating. But last night? Last night, Vivienne had been—Alex swallowed hard—silent of smart remarks. Surrendered. Begging and pleading to be fucked. And that had been intoxicating in ways Alex wasn’t ready to admit.

The wind outside rattled the cabin, a stark reminder of the world beyond their fragile bubble. Alex tore her gaze from the ceiling and glanced toward Vivienne across the room. Vivienne lay facing the other way, her dark hair spilling over the pillow, one hand clutching the edge of the blanket like a lifeline.

A pang of guilt shot through Alex. She’d crossed a line. Sure, Vivienne had been a willing participant, but the circumstances—this cabin, the storm, their mutual frustration—had driven them both to act recklessly.

Her jaw clenched as memories of her past crept in unbidden. The years she’d spent keeping people at arm’s length, guarding her independence like a fortress. She’d learned early on that letting someone in too far meant giving up control. Control was what kept her steady. It kept her sane. And now, in one reckless night, she’d handed it over and taken it back in the same breath.

Alex pushed herself upright, the couch creaking beneath her. Every movement felt too loud, too deliberate. She needed to get away, to put some distance between herselfand Vivienne before the woman woke and unleashed that razor-sharp wit of hers.

The hum of the generator buzzed faintly in the background, a reminder that even their electricity was on borrowed time. Alex swung her legs over the side of the too-small couch and stared down at her hands. She didn’t regret what had happened—how could she, when her blood still thrummed with the memory? But she knew she couldn’t let it happen again.

Her priority was survival, not indulging in whatever complicated, chaotic thing was brewing between them. Vivienne needed her help, her stability, not this mess of tangled emotions and unresolved tension. And Alex? Alex needed to stay in control.

With a deep breath, she stood and moved toward the window. The light outside was cold and gray, the snow falling in heavy sheets. She placed a hand on the cold glass, her palm meeting the chill with a steadiness she didn’t feel.

The storm outside roared, but the storm insidewas louder.

The day progressed with painful slowness, each hour marked by careful avoidance and mounting tension. When evening finally arrived, it brought with it a darkness that seemed to seep into every corner of the cabin.

The cabin felt smaller today. Alex hadn’t thought that possible, but the blizzard outside seemed intent on proving her wrong. Snow lashed against the windows, a relentless barrage that sent faint tremors through the walls. The light had grown dim, gray shadows stretching long tendrils across the wood floor, and the wind howled like a living thing, making Alex’s task of stocking firewood feel like a race against time.

She hefted another log onto the pile by the stove, the dull thud breaking the oppressive silence. Her breath hung in the frigid air, mingling with the faint scent of wood smoke and something faintly floral—Vivienne’s perfume, no doubt. Even now, the woman managed to leave traces of her presence everywhere.

In the corner of her vision, Vivienne paced near the window wearing yet another fancy outfit entirely unsuited to hersurroundings, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“Do you think this storm is ever going to let up?” Vivienne’s voice cut through the room, sharp and exasperated. She cast a glance over her shoulder, her expression caught between irritation and discomfort.

Alex resisted the urge to sigh. “Storms like this can last days. Sometimes longer.” She grabbed another log and shoved it into the stove with a little more force than necessary.

Vivienne let out a groan and threw her hands in the air. “Days? That’s just fantastic. As if this place wasn’t miserable enough already.”

Alex straightened, her back stiff. “You’d prefer being out there, I take it?” She nodded toward the window, where the storm raged in white fury.

Vivienne huffed but didn’t respond, instead returning to her pacing. Alex watched her for a moment, her irritation mounting. The woman couldn’t seem to sit still, couldn’t seem to stop talking. Every complaint, every sigh, grated on Alex’s nerves, yet it was impossible to ignore the undercurrentof vulnerability threading through Vivienne’s words.

“Would it kill you to be useful for once?” Alex finally snapped, unable to keep the frustration from spilling over. “There’s plenty that needs doing if you’re that restless.”

Vivienne froze mid-step and turned, her eyes narrowing. “I’m sorry. Did I ask to be stranded in the middle of nowhere with Miss Mountain Woman of the Year? Forgive me if I’m not exactly thrilled about the accommodations.”

Alex clenched her jaw, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. The audacity of this woman. “Accommodations? This isn’t a five-star resort, princess. It’s survival. And if you’re too wrapped up in your own whining to see that, then maybe you should?—”

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