Page 61 of The Frost Touched Queen

When her cheeks flush with a pretty shade of pink, my cock swells even further, precum leaking from its crown. I stand back up straight, gripping her delicate chin with my hand so that I may lift it up to me.

“Have you never been touched, my queen?” I ask, breathing hard through my nose, my last thread of restraint threatening to break if her response is yes.

But instead of answering, she lowers her eyes away from me. My gaze darts hurriedly all over her face, trying to find the lie to her silent answer and being utterly shocked by what I find. Needing her to say the words, I gently tighten my hold on her chin and crane her neck all the way back.

“Tell it to me true, Kat,” I command with a gentle tone. “Has no man ever touched you the way that I am now?”

She lifts her eyelids up, uncovering a vulnerable glint in her eyes that has me second-guessing all my assumptions about her.

“Who would dare touch a hollow statue made of ice when the end result would be his certain death?”

“A man who has faced death more than once and bested it. That’s who, my queen.”

Her eyes soften to reveal the loveliest shade of gray. She begins to fiddle with my locks again, pulling me even closer to her lips.

“Is such a man here with me now?” she asks in anticipation, her tongue peeking out to lick her lips.

“He is. Steel doesn’t fear death. Or ice,” I retort, my sight locked on hers.

“And are you made of such steel, King Levi?” she taunts, batting those gorgeous eyelashes at me.

“You tell me,” I groan, flexing my hips so that my cock stabs at her belly.

“I’d rather you show me instead,” she pants. “Show me how steel can conquer the most frozen of glaciers. Cut me down into tiny pieces until you can find something that resembles a beating heart. Destroy this frozen cage it has been possessed by with each diligent incision you make. If you are who you say you are, then I dare you to do your worst and slice at the very heart of me,” she pleads, her throaty voice so desperate that it ignites a fire inside me.

“I would rather watch you burn,” I threaten, grabbing the nape of her neck and finding purchase on her lips once more.

This time our kiss isn’t one of awestruck wonder or self-discovery. It’s fire and ice colliding and warring with each other. Our tongues battle it out in this game of dominance, refusing to submit to the other. Lips, teeth, and tongues clash together, uncaring to stop even if it means breathing air becomes the rarest of commodities. Kat’s ravenous fingers begin to forcibly pull at my braids, causing a delicious sting of pain to shudder through me. My fingers dig into her tender flesh at her nape, while my other hand begins to pull up her dress, roaming its way up her inner thigh, until it meets her hot, wet cunt.

The gods.

I’ve only kissed her and yet she’s dripping for me.

“Look at me,” I growl, officially out of my mind with lust.

She does as I command, pulling her head back to stare into my eyes.

“I want you to look into my eyes as you melt for me.”

I watch her swallow hard as I slither my hand up to her mound, the pad of my thumb finding its hidden treasure instantly. I bend down just so my lips are only a hairsbreadth away from hers, while my digit begins to toy with her sensitive folds until it reaches her clit again, this time adding a little pressure to it. Kat’s eyes go wide in alarm, or it’s an instant reaction for me to pull my hand away.

I cluck my tongue disapprovingly, shaking my head.

“None of that, Kat. This is what you begged for. Now take it like the good girl you pretend to be.”

Kat whines in protest as my thumb keeps to its slow, teasing tempo, until I’m sure she can handle some more. Beads of sweat begin to cover her forehead, my heart rate picking up with proof of how I have the Winter Queen thawing at my fingertips. And when she begins to rock against my digit, as if her body knows that the ache inside her pussy can only be satiated one way, I insert a finger in her tight cunt while vigorously rubbing at her clit.

“Levi!” she shouts, completely out of her element of control.

“Your king, sweet Kat. Call me by the name you despise, for he is the cause of the pleasure you’re enjoying.”

Her eyes slice to me in defiance, but all too soon do they widen with an urgency that even she cannot explain. When her legs begin to tremble, Kat clings to my shoulders to keep herself steady. My smirk dies a quick death, though, when she arches her left leg and cradles it on my hip. Her dress now raised up high, it gives me the perfect view of her long, creamy white legs. And either on impulse or depravity, I roughly pull the hem of her dress to her lips.

“Bite on this, my queen,” I gruffly order, too impatient to see her soaked pussy with my own two eyes.

Instead of the words of insubordination I expect to hear come out of her mouth, I’m stunned still when Kat does exactly as I say, biting the fabric with her teeth to keep it in place. The urge to kiss her is so strong with this one show of obedience, that I steal it out of her clenched jaw and lay my lips on hers. Unlike the ones before, this kiss is sweet in its passion—my own way of thanking her for her gift of trusting me. When we part, our eyes linger on each other’s for a moment, as if that kiss held more truth and raw vulnerability than its predecessors.

“I want to see you,” I explain in a gruff tone, my hunger for her coming out in waves. “I need to see that pretty pussy you’ve been hiding under this dress.”

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