The Winter King
Kristopher showed no mercy, sucking hard for a few more painful, blissful moments as he brushed his thumb across the hardness of her other nipple, and curled his fingers inside her. She was being assaulted on all fronts, the sensations streaming to her core like electric currents, mixing and mingling in white hot ecstasy that drove her closer and closer to the cliff’s edge at the top of that mountain. And then he withdrew his fingers, slowly and teasingly, and the girth of them left her empty and quivering, desperate for more.
Now, she thought. Oh gods, please let it be him now…. She wanted him inside her – all of him, all the hardness, all the man that he was, and she’d never wanted anything more in her life. But his warning returned to her, his words echoing in the delirious depths of her mind, when he released her tortured nipples, moved further away from her grip, and traveled southward along her writhing body.
When his kisses reached her hip bone, and his hands encircled her thighs, gripping hard to press them further apart, she realized with shock what he planned to do. At once, self consciousness warred with her desire, and she tried to rise. But Kristopher must have known she would do this, because he expertly used his grip on her legs to yank her back down again, and she hit the bed on her back. At once, his arm slid over her torso, his hand splayed across her chest between her breasts, holding her down.
Poppy’s breaths came hard and fast, and she tried to close her legs. But he was having none of it. With ease, he kept her parted and open before him, laid bare just as he’d said he would do, and Poppy inhaled a cry of surprise as he bent his head, and that hot, hot breath of his brushed across her slick, flushed nether lips.
She made an indistinguishable sound as she clutched at the blankets beneath her, grasping them hard in her fists when Kris leaned further in, and his tongue followed his breath. Another helpless cry escaped her when that tongue slowly licked the length of her opening, then flicked teasingly against the flushed-hard button of her clitoris.
She twisted, flailing uncontrollably, but to no avail. He licked her again, and Poppy saw stars beneath her closed lids. Then the hardness of his tongue parted those red, swollen lips and dipped inside, and Poppy’s eyes flew wide open. She saw the stars beyond that clear domed ceiling and noticed something like green or purple ribbons, but the world was beyond recognition. All she was consciously aware of was the sensations she was experiencing beneath the king’s merciless manipulations.
He used his tongue, spreading her lips apart to drink of her with earnest, until Poppy could contain herself no longer. “Please!” she screamed. “Oh gods, Kristopher, please!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I’m going to make you beg me to stop… his words echoed in her mind when Kristopher slowly pulled away, laughing that damnable, delicious laugh of his as he rose above her once more, crawling over her as if he were some sort of primordial predator – and she his fresh kill.
… and then I’m going to fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.
The remainder of his promise rang out like a warning bell as those eyes of his burned blue like the hottest fires, and his muscles rippled like the sinewy structure of an oversized cat. Her hands at once found his shoulders, replete with their red claw marks where she’d gripped him earlier. He was immovable, unnoticing of the pain when she settled her grip over them once more, and pressed against him in subconscious defense. Her heart was hammering, her chest rose and fell in quick succession, and she knew she hadn’t a hope in hell of stopping him.
And she had never been more happy about something than she was about that.
Their eyes met, their gazes locked, and an entire split second passed between them before he once more claimed her lips with his, and that heat that promised to overwhelm her and burn her alive poured over her, radiating off him like a sunburst.
She cried out against his lips as a second heated hardness pressed against her already teased opening, but the size of it forced her into a stretch that threatened to tear her apart. Despite the resistance, he pushed into her a slow and steady inch by inch that pulled a low, tortured moan from deep within her throat. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, her fingers curling into claws as he claimed her with slow, relentless purpose until he could go no further, and she’d never imagined she could feel so full.
Her body quaked, her nerve endings crackling as the warlock magic inside her awakened at the teasing sensations. She felt it glowing around her, releasing uncontrollably as Kristopher pulled back again, stretching her with an even greater mercilessness just before he deepened his kiss – and sank back into her, bottoming out and drawing from her another cry. He ate the sound, as he had her others, smothering her screams beneath the hunger of his kiss.
Poppy’s head seemed to swim, and her mind reeled, and her universe spun into ribbons like the sky above as he repeated his torment, easing out and then shoving back in, his speed increasing with her yearning for more. Little by little, she edged up that mountain, and then the cliff’s edge was in view, and her body was sparkling with the need for release. Small gasps and moans escaped her throat over and over and were swallowed up by Kristopher as his strong form rode deeper and faster, and ecstasy drew her into its universe like an unavoidable magnet.
He broke their kiss, and suddenly the sounds of their harsh breathing filled the room.
“I love the noises you make,” he told her, just as he had before. “I love the way you fight,” he added. And then he nibbled her bottom lip and drove in deep once more as he said, “And I fucking love the way you feel wrapped tight as hell around me, Poppy Nix. I’m going to make sure it happens all the goddamn time.”
The world fractured then, breaking into puzzle pieces that spread out and split up, dozens becoming hundreds, hundreds becoming thousands as he drove in again and again, and that climb of madness inside her lifted her higher and higher and higher – and then life exploded and she was finally thrown over the edge.
She screamed, arching her back to lift herself off the bed, pressing hard against the king as he came inside her and she entered that other blissful dimension and catapulted through space. He matched her call with an animalistic cry that flooded her bloodstream with orgasm-strengthening adrenaline, and white spots erupted before her eyes.
She floated there in that state of painful bliss, utterly and completely free of earth’s bonds, for several perfect moments before she finally rode the waves very slowly back down to Earth.
From that bed in that room on that planet, Poppy looked over her lover’s shoulder and watched the sky move. The night glittered beyond the glass dome. Those ribbons of green and purple remained. As if they were notes played on some celestial violin, they floated, music-like and beautiful, filling the already brilliant sky with impossible spectral beauty. Galaxies and supernovas splayed out before her, pink and orange and shaped like horse’s heads and crabs. She felt like she were close enough to touch them; she’d never seen anything like it in her life.
“It’s something to see, isn’t it?” the king whispered softly in her ear. He was still inside her, and he had yet to grow completely soft. She was sated and floating, filled with endorphins galore. Her entire body tingled. Everything felt right just then.
Slowly and tenderly, he pulled away, then moved gracefully off of her to lay beside her. His strong arm encircled her, warm and possessive as his gaze followed hers into the heavens.
“Is this your room?” she asked softly. Her voice was a touch hoarse from love making.
“This is our room,” he gently corrected. She glanced sidelong at his profile. His eyes were no longer glowing. Instead, the aurora borealis reflected in their blue, giving them new dimension.
“Okay,” she said.
He was still beside her, and at first Poppy wondered if she hadn’t been clear enough in the meaning of what she’d just said. But though it took him a moment to understand, when he did, he instantly looked back down at her. “Okay?” he asked, his eyes wide. “You mean – ”
br /> But she nodded, and her lips broke into a smile. “Yes.” She grinned. “I mean.”
Kristopher remained frozen a heartbeat more. Then his smile matched her own, and he leaned in, claiming her lips in another kiss. The warmth of him was dichotomous with the taste of him like fresh fallen snow, and it was wonderful. The kiss seemed to go on forever, the Cosmos spinning and unfolding above them.
When he finally lifted away, she was breathless again. The tingling in her body had gone from pleasant and sated to hungry, her nipples were hard, and her legs were bent in need.
Kristopher smiled, and this time there was nothing friendly about it. “Let me see if I can take care of that,” he said in a low, predatory drawl. Then he was sliding over her, and his hardness was pressing into her, and Poppy’s mind was once more lost to the desires of her body.
A good while later, she lay partially atop the Winter King, her hands resting on his chest, her ear pressed to his heart, and the master bed had been completely and wonderfully trashed. Kristopher languidly ran his fingers through her long, thick hair, and his chest rose and fell in slow satisfaction. “You know,” he said lazily, “If you’re actually going to become queen, we’ll need to eventually get you out of this bed and onto your throne.”
Poppy thought about that, and something occurred to her. “Do you think it’s still in one piece?” She pictured the throne room and its seats of ice. It all seemed rather fragile.
He hesitated a moment, then rose up on one elbow. She lifted off him as they both sat up. “Only one way to find out,” he replied.
She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” she said for the second time that night.
Kristopher pulled the furs off them both, and Poppy stared down at herself in wonder as her clothes magically reappeared over her body layer by layer. He even got the scarf right – her favorite scarf, long and crazily colored, like a signature piece.
His clothing did the same, and since he was climbing out of bed at the same time, she realized he was doing it without even concentrating. He was quite powerful, even after having one of Yggdrasil’s roots severed.
Would she be like that once she took the throne? She imagined herself using warlock magic without having to speak or move in order to cast spells – without even having to give it much thought! Was it possible? Was she –
She blanched suddenly as Kristopher strode across his massive chamber, and she couldn’t help but notice how well he fit in with his surroundings. He strode tall and strong, smooth and confident. He owned them. Like a true king.
What was she in comparison? Would Winter… what if Winter didn’t find her as deserving?
She swallowed past a tightening throat. Kristopher stopped at his door and turned back. His brow furrowed and his head cocked to the side. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“Yeah,” she replied quickly. “Sorry. I just… hadn’t had a chance to look around yet.” She hurriedly joined him at the door, pretending to take in her surroundings as she went. Really, she’d gotten a good look while lounging in his bed. The room was definitely amazing – just as otherworldly and impossibly beautiful as the rest of Winter’s palace of ice. Not the least amazing of which was the bed itself, a massive construct of intricately carved ice, right down to the four ice carved posters and the thin, gauzy impossibly woven ice curtains draped over the ice bars overhead. But if she gave too much thought to how amazing his bed was right now, she and the king would just wind up right back in it.
She made it to the door, smiled sheepishly, and his gaze narrowed. “Mmm-hmm,” he said disbelievingly. To which she simply pushed past him into the hall beyond.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kristopher watched her brush past him, fighting the urge to reach out and stop her. Something was suddenly bothering her, and that was not the feeling he wanted to leave her with after taking her to bed.
But he really wanted to get her on that throne.
Once she did, she would be queen, and she would have the power that came with it. Power enough to stop anything the Entity might be planning to do to her. It was clear the monster was willing to go to extremes to stop the kings from finding their queens. He wanted to stop them from… something. Hell, that was just it. Kristopher didn’t know what the Entity wanted. No one did.
I need to check in, he thought as he followed her down a long hallway. It had been a while since he’d looked in to see if there’d been any news on the Entity and his little rat, the traitor king who sat amongst them at the table of the Thirteen. Plus, he should probably let them know about the attack on Yggdrasil and the Entity’s likely involvement.
Unlike the other supernatural realms, the Winter Kingdom was ironically both a permanent part of the mortal world – just like Winter was a part of the mortal world – and permanently cut off from it. His kingdom was more powerful in this sense, as things like time and space moved differently here. But it was also more remote, because when spring, summer, and fall visited the mortal realm, Winter was not welcome. It needed a place to escape to, or it would wither and die.
Without his permission, no one could make it into the Winter Kingdom to contact him if something went down, and tiny reliable messengers such as Pi the fire elemental, were not elementally welcome in places such as this. Pi wouldn’t last long. Seconds, perhaps, and that was about all. So, Kristopher was all but cut off from his sovereign brethren until he re-entered the mortal realm.
Kristopher’s thoughts of the Entity and the other kings took a back seat when he noticed that Poppy was moving slowly through the castle, but this time not with fear or hesitation. This time, she walked in wonder, her head moving side to side, her eyes wide.
He’d lived in the ice castle for so long, Kristopher had ceased taking note of how it looked. But now that he was watching someone else take it all in, he recalled the way it had made him feel the first time he’d beheld it. It truly was a stunning sight.
Constructed entirely of ice, from the walls to the floors to the windows to the fixtures and even the clear ice domes in most of the larger rooms, it was a marvel of magic. The smooth, crystalline ice was rock-hard, shatter-proof, and had been carved by the passage of thousands upon thousands of winters. Each one that passed made its beautiful mark on the walls. There were images of man and monster, of nature and of wonders beyond nature. Chandeliers overhead chimed like pixie flight, and shed light that was again magical. Rooms beckoned with firelight that melted nothing but the cold in one’s heart. Rugs that looked like fur, but were actually created with spells, warmed the floors. The windows came to high, pointed arches, the doorways were doubled, and the main doors to the castle were banded in gold.
It was a magnificence. All of it.
And Poppy was taking it all in.
Kristopher found himself smiling as he walked behind her. He felt proud, suddenly, that he could offer something so wondrous to someone like her. At once, he wanted to give her the grand tour. There was so much she didn’t know about the Winter Kingdom. He couldn’t wait to show it all to her!
Kristopher’s brow furrowed a little, and he smiled a small smile as he mulled that over. What was this? Was this what it felt like to actually care about someone?
He may have only met her a few hours ago, but in the time that they’d spent together he’d managed to get past her defensive walls and learn a thing or two about Persephone Glacia Nix. All that she’d told him about herself was true, from the fact that she loved the smell of rain to the fact that she hated politics. He knew this in the same way he knew a person’s name when he looked at them. It just came as knowledge.
But he’d learned more, too. She was also sensitive. She was afraid of germs because she’d been sick before. By the same token, she was afraid to hurt others because she, herself, had been hurt. She was empathetic and kind unless you pushed the wrong buttons. She had a temper like hellfire when pressed. He liked that.
As he’d rested beside her in their bed, all that she was and wanted to be
had just opened up for him. He’d suddenly been awash in her. She’d become an open book, and Kristopher had never read a more beautiful story.
Her best friend was even a queen. How perfect was that? Poppy was a human born with a queen’s name and inordinate amounts of warlock power. She’d been fashioned, in her soul, to do great things – and to be great things. He loved the way she saw the world, the way she inherently wanted to fix it, and the strength of will she possessed.
He loved….
“It looks like there’s no one here but us,” she said suddenly, breaking his train of thought, and startling him a bit. “And the room’s in one piece.”
Kristopher glanced up, taking in the throne room. Suddenly he realized that Poppy had found her way through the labyrinthine castle from the master chamber to the throne room all on her own. As if she’d known the way.
He grinned. “Yes, it is.” He moved past her, leading the way to the gorgeous, poppy-covered throne that had lain empty for more than a thousand years. When he reached it, he placed his hand atop the seatback and faced her. “It’s all yours.”
Poppy stood very still for a moment, right there in the center of the throne room. He saw her throat work as she swallowed hard, and he knew she was re-thinking, wondering, and even worrying. So, to ease her fears, he turned away from the throne and took a seat in his own. He lowered himself into it casually, feeling relaxed as a cat. He draped one leg over an armrest and sat back.
The strange thing about the thrones was that despite their being constructed of ice, they were neither cold nor uncomfortable. More magic. But Poppy wouldn’t know that until she sat down.
“Take a seat, blossom.”
She stepped forward. Without warning, something crashed through one of the double doors that led to the throne room. “No! Actually, don’t sit!” a man cried.
Kristopher leapt to his feet as Poppy spun around to face the tall figure that came stumbling out of one of the halls leading to the throne room. Kris recognized the newcomer at once. It was William – the Time King. Kristopher had long, long ago given him a charm that allowed him to come and go through the Winter Kingdom at will.