Page 59 of Kiss of Frost

Abruptly, I realized he wasn’t beside me. Tendrils of panic rushed through me as I slowed, wings flapping, and scanned the ground.

Something wet and cold smacked me in the face. With a roar, I shook snow from my snout and twisted around in the air.

Callum stood on two human legs on the battlements, stark naked and packing another snowball. His grin was visible even with the distance between us.

Indignation pumped through me. I beat my wings once and streaked toward him. He gave a shout of laughter, twisted into shadow form, and streaked straight upward. A second later, he burst into his dragon, his green tail waving behind him in a taunting ripple.

And the chase was on.

I dove after him, my wings sheering the air as I trailed him through the sky. The thrill of the hunt coursed through me, banishing all thought of oaths and oracles as I focused on exacting revenge.

Callum’s laughter drifted in his wake, followed by the hissing, twisted syllables only our beasts could speak. “Easy, old man. Wouldn’t want you to break a hip.”

I snorted a stream of icy vapor and surged forward, my gaze on his glittering hindquarters. He weaved and dodged with impressive agility, rolling and spinning when I got too close. But I had centuries on him, and I read the little twitches and feints that gave him away. When he spiraled to the left, I was already there, snapping at his tail.

He shifted to shadow form and jetted to the right.

“That’s cheating,” I barked, but my jaw opened in a grin as I pursued him up and up, clouds whipping past my face. After a second, I spun into smoke and joined him.

And, suddenly, what had been a chase became a dance. We spiraled around each other, weaving in and out of the currents. Joy burst in my mind and streamed through the particles of my body. Time faded. Worries fled. Nothing mattered but the air and the sky and the male circling me. Matching me. Spinning around me in choreography so ancient and sacred it was written on our bones.

He led me, and I let him, streaming after him as he punched through clouds and rode the air. When he shifted into his dragon and swooped toward the ground, I shifted with him—and I laughed when he skimmed his claws over the snow and flung the crystals into the air, making the world sparkle. He reminded me of the hounds of my youth. After the knights returned from hunting, the dogs used to roll in the grass, yipping at nothing and everything and generally being ridiculous.

At last, he turned toward the castle. When we neared the North Tower, he twisted into smoke and streamed through an arrow slit. I shifted and followed, trailing him through corridors and passages until we reached the caldarium.

Callum hit the ground on two legs, and his mouth was on mine before I’d caught my breath. His throaty laugh rumbled against my lips as I walked him swiftly backward and toppled us into the water. He was still laughing when he came up wet and tangled in my arms.

I pushed him against the wall, and his laughter turned into a strangled gasp as I ground my cock against his. Water lapped around our waists and ran down our bodies as we rutted against each other. He squirmed against me, one hand tangling in my hair and the other gripping my shoulder. We stayed like that for a long moment, our faces inches apart and our breaths mingling as we worked our dicks together. His eyes glittered like emeralds. Water clung to his dark blond stubble and the gold-dusted tips of his eyelashes.

“So pretty,” I murmured, sliding a hand between us and gripping his cock. He moaned, thrusting against my palm as I stroked down the shaft and over his swollen cockhead. The water was clear, and I tipped my head down and watched as I ran a rough thumb around the rounded, dark red tip. “Blushing for me.”

With a muttered curse, he seized my face and crashed his lips to mine. He seized control, too, stroking his tongue boldly, roughly. Thrusting it deep and forcing my jaw wide. In a sudden move, he spun us, reversing our positions so the wall bit into the small of my back and it was my dick in his hand.

Surprise and pleasure crackled through me. I could have stopped him, but I couldn’t resist him. Not when his kiss made every nerve in my body come alive. Set little fires under my skin and made my heart race until it thumped to the same frantic rhythm of his own.

His hand on my cock was just as devastating. Rough with a swordsman’s calluses yet achingly gentle as it worked me from root to tip. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to move his hand to drive me mad. How to make my body tighten and my release build. How to drag out the pleasure and how to bring me to the edge before hauling me back.

Finally, I was too close, and I wrenched away, my chest heaving. “Was that one of my fantasies?”

With a shake of his head, he murmured, “No. It was mine.”

My heart skipped a beat. He spent so much time giving others what they wanted. How often did he get what he wanted? I fingered a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead before running my fingers down to his temple. “What other fantasies live in here?”

“I want to eat your ass, Graeme,” he said, his voice quiet and matter-of-fact. “I want you spread over my face while I take you apart with my tongue. I want to feel you twitch and shudder above me while I thrust inside you, teasing you open and licking you until you’re squirming and begging to come.”

My face flared hotter than the sun. Words stuck in my throat as lust and wariness mingled in my chest. “What are you…?” I cleared my throat. “What are you asking for…exactly? Because I don’t… I mean, I don’t think—”

“Wheesht, sweetheart,” he said, stopping my babble with a finger over my lips. His eyes softened. “I know how it’ll be between us, Graeme, and you’ll hear no complaint from me. I’m not asking for anything you’re not willing to give.” He tugged my beard as a spark of wickedness entered his eyes. “But even big, strong tops need their asses eaten sometimes.”

I rested my forehead against his with a groan that was equal parts embarrassment and lust. “You have a filthy mouth.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled. He splayed his hands over my hips, dipping his thumbs in the creases that seemed made for his touch. He stroked me there, and I got the sense he was gentling me. Because he was gentle. And kind. And so sweet I wanted to crawl into his arms and just…rest in him.

“Yes,” I whispered, excitement trembling inside me. “Take me apart, m’eudail.”

His breath hitched at the endearment. “Graeme,” he murmured, and then he kissed me, softly this time, just the barest meeting of lips and tongues. There was a promise in it—maybe he said it out loud and I was simply too enthralled to know for sure. But I heard it all the same.

I’ll take care of you.

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