Page 23 of A Storm of Fire and Ice

A tear trickled down his cheek, and my heart caught in my throat at the sight of it. I wrapped my arms around him, drawing his head against my chest, and he clung onto me tightly.

“Shhh,” I soothed. “It’s not your fault. We did everything we could.”

“We should have never left.” He shook his head. “This whole day, I thought they were gone. I should have known. We should have searched for them—”

“Stop it,” I chided, stroking his soft white hair. “They wanted to protect you because you’re the future of the Ice Kingdom. They know how important you are. They said so themselves, Fannar.”

As I held him, his tears stopped, but he still clung to me like a lifeline as his breathing evened out. The cold air around us gradually dissipated as his head pressed against me. I breathed in his crisp scent of freshly fallen snow.

“I should have been stronger,” he muttered into my chest.

I gently lifted his chin so his eyes, red-rimmed but finally clear, met mine. “Babe, you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Fannar chuckled and smiled softly. “I was going to say that about you.” He took a shuddering breath to compose himself before pressing his forehead to mine and closing his eyes. “I really love you, you know.”

“I know.” I smirked. “I love you too.”

We came together in a soft, lingering kiss—gentle yet filled with a thousand unspoken words. His hands came up to cradle my face as he deepened the kiss.

Our bodies melded together as if our souls were hungry for one another, the intensity between us slowly building. His hands dropped down my body, exploring every inch of me as our kiss became more passionate and urgent. Heat rushed through me like a wildfire, every nerve ending alive with longing and anticipation.

With a gentle growl of pleasure, his hands roamed even further up my body and cupped my breasts. His arousal pressed against me, sending a jolt down to my core. We wanted each other in a way that was almost primal. The desire surging between us was almost too powerful to resist.

I pulled his shirt off over his head, and I slid my hands over his hard chest, his heart beating wildly under my palm. His muscles rippled beneath my fingertips, begging to be touched. I took a deep breath, inhaling his wintery scent again, and traced my fingers along the ridges of his abdomen.

His lips moved hungrily across mine as our tongues caressed each other. I wanted him. All of him. I needed him satisfied and sated, his desire for me greater than his desperation to protect me.

As I gazed into his eyes and his smoldering gaze held mine like a magnet, Fannar’s fingers dipped underneath my skirt and found the delicate lace of my panties, sliding beneath the fabric and teasing the slick heat that awaited him. My breath hitched as he expertly pulled them off.

He held my hands in his, helping me to climb onto his lap. I straddled him, my bare legs pressing into him as I ground against him. His erection hardened beneath me, and a hungry growl rumbled in his chest.

After I pulled my shirt off, he began kissing down my chest, taking his time to caress me with his hands and mouth. He cupped my breasts, tugging at my nipples softly, eagerly watching the way they pebbled at his touch. His cold tongue traced circles around my nipples before he sucked one into his mouth, causing me to shudder in pleasure. My back arched involuntarily, pressing my breast deeper into his mouth, my body suddenly feeling hot all over.

“Fannar,” I gasped, the sensation of his tongue and teeth teasing my sensitive flesh overwhelming me. He switched his attention to my other breast, lavishing it with equal fervor, his fingers rolling and pinching the abandoned nipple. The dual assault had me writhing beneath him, my hips grinding against his in search of relief.

Reaching down, I stroked his hardness through his pants, feeling how ready he was for me. I undid the clasp of his pants and pushed them down slowly, reveling in the sight of his massive erection springing free.

Crouching down on the floor, I gazed up at him and took his sweetness into my mouth as far as I could.

He moaned and bucked his hips toward me. Relishing the sound of his approval, I bobbed my head up and down, sucking him in a slow, rhythmic motion as my tongue swirled around his shaft.

He grunted, his hands gripping my hair tightly. He pushed his hips toward me, urging me to pick up the pace.

And I did. I took him in deeper with each downward movement.

His member throbbed and pulsated in my mouth. I could feel his heartbeat against my lips and tongue. I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted him to want nothing but me.

And judging by his moans and the way his face looked, I was doing a pretty damn good job.

He groaned again. He was loving this. He was loving the way I was worshipping his manhood with my mouth.

Suddenly, he pulled my head back. “That’s enough.”

He lifted me onto the desk, his hands on my hips, and I could feel his desire for me.

“Tell me what you want, Helena,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear.

“I need you inside me,” I begged, the anticipation threatening to consume me. I spread my legs, offering myself to him as I looked up with need in my eyes.

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