Page 53 of The Fire Beneath the Frost

We stayed like that for a moment longer, then let our arms drop.The world waited.But for now, we weren’t done with the dream.

“Come on,” I breathed.“Let’s find somewhere less… observed.”

We walked hand in hand past the bar, past the silent woman in the tuxedo who gave us a brief, knowing smile.Down a narrow hallway lined with peeling wallpaper and yellow light.Behind one door we heard laughter, behind another, nothing.We kept going, past the mannequins and their frozen faces, searching for some place to be alone.

The room was empty, the walls bare but for a single broken mirror in the corner and a dangling lightbulb that hummed faintly above us.Concrete floor, old paint curling off the plaster—yet somehow, this little room felt sacred.Private.Untouched by the rest of the world.

I reached for the door and twisted the latch.

It actually locked.

I turned to him.“No interruptions.”

Dimitri didn’t answer.He just stood there, chest rising and falling, his eyes fixed on me like he couldn’t quite believe I was real.His lips trembled, and in a heartbeat, I crossed the room and pulled him into my arms.

Our mouths collided, no hesitation this time—hot, hungry, desperate.He tasted like smoke and winter air, like truth after too many lies.His fingers clutched at the back of my neck as I devoured him, kissed him like the world outside had already ended and this was all that remained.

In that kiss, something shattered inside me.Or maybe it clicked into place.

I loved him.

I didn’t say it.The words felt too small, too fragile to carry something so vast.

So I showed him.

I kissed him deeper, slower now, until he moaned into my mouth.His hands slipped beneath my coat, tugging at my shirt, bunching the fabric between his fists.I pressed him against the wall, and he gasped, the sound vibrating against my tongue.

Then, with a look like he was walking into fire for me, he dropped to his knees.

I froze.

He looked up, hands resting on my thighs, lips parted.“I’ve never done this before,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.“But I want to.I’ll do anything to make you feel good.”

His fingers moved to my zipper.

The sound of it sliding down might as well have been thunder.

And then—heat.His mouth on me, careful at first, tentative.But then bolder.I let out a ragged breath, my hand sinking into his hair, tangling in the soft waves at the nape of his neck.He looked up again as he took me deeper, his eyes wide, reverent, hungry.

I groaned—helpless, aching.The world narrowed to this.His lips.His mouth.The dizzying pressure building deep inside me.

I thrust gently, then deeper, and his throat welcomed me.He choked a little, adjusted, then took me again.

But it wasn’t enough.

I needed more.

I reached down, cupped his face, and whispered, “No.Not like this.”I pulled him up, kissed him hard, tasting myself on his lips.“I’m going to make love to you.”

His breath caught.My hands fumbled with his belt, cursing under my breath as the buckle slipped.My fingers trembled like I was seventeen again, desperate and afraid.When I finally got it free, I yanked his trousers down to his knees.His cock sprang free, flushed and glistening.Beautiful.

I dropped to my knees and took him into my mouth in one smooth movement.He cried out—loud, raw, like he’d never felt anything like it before.I wrapped my arms around his waist and stroked lower, tracing along the cleft of him, until my fingers found his entrance.

Dimitri froze.

I pulled back, letting his cock fall from my lips.“I must be inside of you, Dimi,” I said, breathless.“Let me be inside of you.”

I brought two fingers to my mouth, wetting them with spit, then kissed the head of his cock again, soft and slow, as my slicked fingers found their way back.I pressed one gently against him.

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