Page 113 of The Heart of Winter

His face seemed different somehow, maybe because he was still a bit drowsy: softer, gentler, more open. Like that nap had loosened something in him. Or maybe… it was surrender? Whatever it was, I welcomed it. In the state I was in, with heat slowly rising through my veins, I really needed the shift in atmosphere.

There was also something I’d been wanting to tell him for a long time, something I kept trying to piece together in my head, but the words never seemed right. Maybe now… I was finally ready?

Still staring at his lips, I whispered, "You don’t even know how often I’ve thought about kissing you, Winter. You have these lips… that practically beg for it. They don’t seem to match your cold exterior. What do they hide? A gate to another Winter? A version of you I haven’t met yet?"

Winter stared at me, listening to my words attentively, as if I were giving a one-man performance.

"Throughout these months, I often wondered what it would be like to make love to you, what expression you’d have on your face. Would you make sounds, or are you the silent type?"

Winter seemed almost hypnotized by my words. He kept looking at me, not interrupting, his breathing and heartbeat noticeably quicker.

"And your skin, Winter. It reminds me of snowy satin. I wondered if it would taste like sweet ice cream if I ran my lips over it. And again, what expression would you have then? Would you give in to it?"

This trance just kept going, and he kept listening, eyes wide.

"What would you feel if I kissed your neck gland? Would you tremble? Would you moan? Believe me, I’ve thought about all these little intimate details of your body… so many times."

"I guess you’ll find out very soon," he suddenly muttered, almost breathlessly.

"My body… it’s gearing up now, Winter. It’s coming. But if you changed your mind, I will try to push through it…"

Winter’s hand landed on my mouth, pressing it, silencing me. I opened it a bit and my tongue touched his skin, making a small shiver run over his perfect lips.

"Stop, just stop talking, Sariel. I accepted it already. Even if it’s not an ideal scenario, I intend to enjoy it. So just leave the ‘I’ll manage’ part. It’s not needed. We’re good to go."

For a second, he looked like he was going to kiss me, but I made him stop, by blurting out, "There’s just one problem."

His eyes snapped up. "Only one?"

I smirked. "Okay, I lied. There are way more than one."

He let out a sharp breath and rolled his eyes.

"But there’s one urgent problem…" I went on. "I never wanted my first time to happen without a shower. Hygiene’s important. You think I can get into the stream with my bad leg?"

Winter burst into a short laugh, as if relieved by the sudden change of subject.

"Very… practical thinking. And I fully support it. Your leg is splinted with sticks and cable, not a cast, so I don’t think getting in the water will be a problem."

My expression immediately soured. "Come to think of it… My leg. You think it’s going to get in the way of—?"

Winter pulled a thoughtful face. "Depends on what position you want to go with."

We stared at each other. "I think I want to start with something classic," I muttered, feeling silly.

Winter scratched lightly at his chin, his cheeks slightly flushed. "You… on the bottom?"

I couldn’t hold back a quiet, self-conscious chuckle.

"Yeah, exactly as I drew it."

"Your drawings were… interesting." He made a meaningful smirk.

"Wish I could explore more… of my other fantasies, but—"

"The leg can get in the way."

"Yup. I’ve heard heat hormones have pain-relieving properties, but we still should figure out a position that spares my leg. Got one in mind that won’t wreck me?"

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