Page 2 of A Storm of Fire and Ice

And there it was—the constellation Luminaria. It glimmered against the indigo sky, its celestial light a guiding beacon in the dark. I traced the pattern of stars with my gaze, each point of light a distant world teeming with possibility and wonder.

“Are you almost ready for bed, snowflake?” Brontes asked as he walked onto the terrace.

“Brontes, I found it!” I exclaimed, looking up from the telescope. “I found Luminaria!”

Warm light spilled out from the open doorway to our chambers, casting Brontes’s silhouette across the stone floor. He stood tall with his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His shirtless frame highlighted the broadness of his shoulders and the chiseled lines of his chest.

“Did you now?” He smiled, and his navy eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and adoration as his hand brushed over the stubble dusting his defined jawline.

“Come see.” I stepped aside to let him peer through the telescope. As he did, our hands found each other naturally, intertwining like two vines reaching for the same sun.

With his free hand, he adjusted the telescope slightly, marveling at the dazzling constellation I’d been observing. I leaned into his side, relishing his natural warmth.

Brontes hummed, his chest vibrating against me. “It’s beautiful, though not nearly as radiant as you.”

“Flatterer.” I playfully pushed his bare chest, my fingertips tingling at the contact with his skin, and sighed. “You know, stargazing always makes me feel part of something grand and infinite.”

Brontes drew me close, nuzzling the curve of my neck. A soft sigh escaped me as his lips traveled up to my ear, his warm breath fanning over my skin. “I know of other ways to make you see stars.”

Though my heartbeat quickened at his suggestive tone and the simmering desire in his gaze, I wouldn’t give in that easily.

“Is that a challenge, Your Majesty?” I teased, raising an eyebrow in mock defiance. “I doubt you could even make me see a single star.”

“Really, Your Highness?” His eyes danced with mischief as they locked onto mine. “Brave words for a princess who claims to be shy.”

Our lips were now inches apart, the magnetic pull between us growing stronger with each passing moment.

“Show me then, Storm King,” I breathed. A newfound boldness surged through me. The night air hummed with electric anticipation. “I’m still waiting.”

My head tilted up to meet his lips in a slow, deep kiss that stole my breath away. Our tongues danced and dueled, igniting our passion like a storm raging along the serene celestial canvas above.

“See stars yet?” Brontes whispered against my lips, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Maybe half a star,” I replied as I pressed myself tighter against him. “But I’m sure you can do better.”

“Challenge accepted,” he grumbled before capturing my lips once more in a searing kiss as fiery as a thousand burning suns.

As our mouths explored one another, my hands ran through his tousled black hair, our breaths mingling in the heated space between us. Brontes’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me impossibly closer, our bodies pressed together like two puzzle pieces finally finding their match.

He walked me backward until I felt the solid surface of the wall behind me. He caged me in, one hand on either side of my head as he devoured my lips.

I parted my legs, hooking one around his hip to draw him closer. The hard length of his arousal pressed into the cradle of my thighs, eliciting a throaty groan from him.

Brontes trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along my jaw and down my neck, grazing his teeth over my pulse point. I shuddered, tangling my hands in his hair to hold him there.

“So beautiful,” he rasped against my skin. “All mine.” His hand slid under my gown, fingers dancing over my inner thigh.

Heat coiled low in my belly at his words, my body awakening to his skillful touch. I whimpered softly, desire and need clouding my thoughts until only one remained.

My Brontes.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he crushed his mouth to mine once more. Our kisses turned frantic, hands roving and grasping. Brontes’s fingers hooked underneath the straps of my gown and pulled them down over my arms. His eyes intensely watched as my breasts spilled out.

“You are so exquisite,” he said, his chest heaving as he raked his gaze over my flesh.

His fingers trailed reverently over my flushed skin before palming my breast and rolling my nipple between his fingers until it pebbled.

When I whimpered at his touch, he growled softly, leaning down to capture a nipple between his teeth. He tugged it into his hot mouth, flicking his tongue over the hard peak.

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