Page 92 of Blood Beneath the Snow

His movements were excruciatingly slow and gentle as he learned my body. Another finger slid in beside the first, the soft stretch making me keen. The world was awash in throbs of pleasure, my legs trembling as he whispered in my ear, comforting me through it all.

“You’re so pretty when you let me touch you. So beautiful. After this, when we’re back in bed, I’m going to splay you out so I can taste you. First you’ll come on my hand, then my tongue, then my cock. Let me worship you until you can’t remember any name but mine. Do you feel that stretch?” Here he slid a third finger inside of me, and a wordless sound escaped my mouth. “Perfect, pretty girl. Letting me finger fuck you. Let me make you moan.”

Every word made me melt, and I was nothing more than a puddle in his hands, floating in the water. It could have been minutes or hours by the time my breaths began to shorten, my fingernails leaving crescent marks in the flesh of his shoulders as my hands tightened and the pleasure in my core began to spread through the rest of my body.

The pressure of his thumb, his filthy words, the steadily falling darkness—it all culminated in a release so overwhelming, I saw stars. My fingers scrabbled against his shoulders as I searched for purchase, and the sounds I made were ones I doubted I’d ever make again.

When I finally came down from the high, panting desperately, Søren was cradling me in his arms, murmuring, “Please, can I come inside you? Please, Princess, I need it—”

Gods above, I wanted to make him beg me for it every day until I died. I found myself thankful we’d had the necessary discussions about contraception on the hike over. I reached between us, lining him up with my entrance while I nipped at his jawline. “Hush, honey,” I chided as he pleaded and I slowly came back to myself. “I’ll take care of you.”

He groaned, one palm slapping against the cool rock at my back as he slid in the first inch. Even that little bit stretched me despite the careful work of his fingers earlier, but my orgasm made me soft and pliable. With one fluid movement, he slid the rest of the way in, and we both panted as I adjusted and he tried not to move.

“I’m not hurting you?” He sounded concerned through his clenched jaw.

I shook my head, gripping his shoulders more tightly to support my weight. “No, I’m okay. I’m okay. Move, please?Please, Søren.”

“Fuck. I love when you say my name.” He thrust his hips, and the motion of him inside me sent a shiver up my spine. “Like I’m a person. Not a monster.”

The words made me wish I could hold him so tightly, I never had to let go. Instead, I lost myself in the rhythm of his thrusting, caving to the carnal desire to run my tongue up the column of his throat. He groaned and cursed again, and my sated body was thrilled to know such a powerful man was shivering under my touch.

When he came, shuddering with every rush, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut, I pressed my mouth against his chest and held him through it. Spent, he inhaled deeply, then cradled my face in his hands and grinned before peppering me with a barrage of tiny kisses.

“Søren!” I couldn’t stop laughing.

“You’re incredible. That was…” He ran a hand through his hair while I settled my now sore legs back on the bottom of the hot spring. “It’s never been like that before.”

We couldn’t keep our hands off each other. I didn’t mind in the slightest, running my thumbs over his hip bones. He shivered. “Not for me either,” I whispered, peering up at him shyly. “You liked it?”

“Liked it?” He looked so incredulous, I hid a smile behind my hand. “I more than liked it.”

“Enough that you’d like to continue when we’re back inside? If we’re out here for too long, it will start snowing again.”

Søren grinned, and for a moment everything was peaceful beneath the stars. “Race you back.”

He bolted without a second thought, splashing hot water on me as if it would slow me down. I dressed faster than I ever had before, and as we sprinted back to the abandoned prison, I wondered if I might love a monster.

23

I startled awake when someone droppedme into a patch of freezing snow.

I gasped as the cold ripped through me. My only clothes were the Hellbringer’s, a single layer of thin fabric. My armor crunched as it landed next to me.

The glare of the morning sun made it difficult to discern the person responsible for my plight, but when she bent to survey me, I recognized her. Mira.

Her face was uncovered, and I could see her mouth twisted into a scowl. A long, thick scar extended from her neck to her cheek, but I forced myself not to look at it.

“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded, pushing to my feet. The longer I stayed in the snow, the more likely I’d freeze to death.

She rolled her eyes, her blond hair glittering bright against the backdrop of white mountains. “He left you a note,” she said without preamble. “ ‘I’ve always hated goodbyes.’ That’s all it says.” She crumpled the small piece of paper in her hand and tossed it into the snow.

I grabbed my cloak and threw it on, trying to piece together the information behind her words.

“Where is the Hellbringer?” I asked.

She sneered. “He told me to leave you outside of your camp. But his judgment is compromised. I’m doing what he should have done in the first place.”

My eyes widened. “Which is what?”

---