The Frost King

"Oh, god, please," she whispered, tilting her head back as his lips and hands left trails of heat all over her, despite the chill of his skin. To her dismay, though, he pulled away, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at her.

"You are untouched, aren't you, little snowflower? I wouldn't have thought it, with your beauty, but your reactions betray you. Such delighted surprise."

When she could only reply with a blushing nod, he actually grinned, something wolfish in his demeanor. "Then I shall be making you truly mine this night."

His body eased downwards, then, and she felt cool lips moving over her belly, his tongue dipping briefly into her navel before traversing further down. "What on earth are you doing?" came her breathless question when at last he stopped, breath fanning the soft thatch of golden curls that nestled between her thighs.

"Mm, wait and see, pet. Wait and see." Then, he was kissing her again, but this time in a much more intimate spot. As his tongue parted her folds, she cried out in surprise and pleasure, falling back against the bed as he found the tiny pearl hidden there and suckled lightly upon it.

Wave upon wave of pleasure built within her, until she felt as though she were nearing some hitherto unsuspected pinnacle of pleasure. Yet, again, he stopped, just when she felt as though she was about to fly apart, sliding back up to kiss her deeply, the taste of her body on his lips. His shaft was nudging between her desire-slick lips, now, probing at all those spots his mouth had just been sampling.

"Now," came the growl from above her. "Now, I make you mine." With those words, he thrust into her, and for a moment she felt a searing pain as he tore through her maidenhood, bringing a cry of a different flavour to her parted lips. He stilled, one hand moving to brush a lock of hair back from her cheek. "It will not hurt for long, sweet one... there is so much better yet to come."

He began to move, slowly at first, thick shaft moving in short bursts but as she became accustomed to him, and began to relax, those thrusts became longer and deeper, until he was fully hilted within her. His hands guided her thighs to lift and rest upon his broad shoulders, then he was grasping her hips as he began to move faster, harder, seeming intent on bringing as many cries of pleasure from her as he could.

Tatya arched beneath him, squirming and bucking up against his hips as he speared into her time and again, eyes half-closed as the motions of the man above her became increasingly savage. Yet, beneath the roughness, she felt a burgeoning tenderness from him, one that instilled a growing trust in her own heart, leaving her able to respond with increasing abandon until they were moving together, there upon the bed.

Her climax seemed to shatter her, coming seemingly from nowhere, unlike the growing buildup from his mouth. She threw her head back, a cry of pleasure filling the room, joined by his a moment later as an explosion of heat spread between her thighs as he filled her. That heat didn't stop there, but slowly began to infuse her entire body, and his as well, his skin warming where it touched her own, as though a spring thaw had melted this king of ice.

They collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, his strong arms tugging her up to lay atop his heaving chest.

"Warm," she whispered dazedly. "So... warm."

For a long moment, there came no answer, only a hand gently stroking her hair. Then, his voice, softer than she had ever heard it. "Little love. A curse was lain upon me by the Summer Lady, many years ago, after I rejected her advances. Cursed, I was, to live in isolation, my body as frozen as my heart, until a human girl came to me of her own choice, and gave herself to me. You have broken that curse, and for so long as you remain by my side, as my consort, it will remain so."

"Then... it shall remain so forever, for I will never leave you."

It is said, in tales told by old grandmothers by the hearth, that from that day on, the winters that came blowing down from the north lost their fierceness. Still cold, it is true, yet with the warmth of love in his heart, and the heat of his consort in his bed, the Frost King never again sent out winds of killing cold to freeze the bodies of men as his heart had been frozen. And so it was that a peasant girl found her dreams, a frozen king found his heat, and a people found relief.