A story I wrote for two close friends of mine using characters that they’d created. They’re not in this stage of their relationship yet, but they’re certainly getting there…this is how I imagine the fun they’ll be having once they do.

I want to issue an apology to folks hoping for Game of Thrones erotica. Despite the title, this has nothing to do with Westeros.

Image is taken from touchedbyred on deviantart.

The snow fell silently, blanketing the earth below and piling in quiet, elegant drifts. Celia sighed and leaned into the cold windowpane, watching intently. Her breath steamed the glass, spreading an oblong fog over it with each exhale. Hotter than most others, it was only the outdoor chill and her lover’s cold body that kept her from heating the house independently of the furnace.

Celia Winter (soon to be Frost, if she could convince her boyfriend to settle down) was a powerful pyrokinetic. Whenever she willed it (and many times, when she didn’t) blue flames burst from her hands and feet. She’d been born that way–with powers she’d never wanted and couldn’t fully control–but if Celia considered it, she’d never have met Jack without them.

She sighed, staring at the dancing snowflakes. That man… she smiled wistfully. Besides their skin and hair–ivory blonde and light gray, respectively–Jack was her complete opposite. He was tall, and she was short. His eyes were blue, hers were gray. He was lithe, she was curvy. He was hard, she was soft…and he was ice. She was fire.

Jack Frost. Master thief, famous metahuman vandal, known the world over for his feats with ice. His legendary namesake nipped millions of cold noses every year–but the man Jack Frost was Celia’s. The life of a reluctant metahuman was difficult and full of uncertainties. But if Celia knew one thing, it was that she loved him.

“You’re a sap, Celia,” she whispered, smiling to herself. “Better to just watch the snowflakes.” She sat in silence for a few moments, twirling an errant lock of ivory hair, until Jack’s arms wrapped around her. Long, lean, and muscular, her shirtless lover held her from behind, wrapping her in a cool embrace. She reciprocated, leaning into his muscled chest. She gazed up at him, adoration in her eyes, and he met her with a sleepy, loving smile.

“Celia,” he whispered. “You okay?” Worry marred his pretty face, filling his big blue eyes with sleepy concern. He stroked her face. “Nightmares again?” She shook her head and leaned into his hand, pressing the cool palm to her cheek, then wrapped her arms around his forearm and held him there. His thumb curled softly over her skin, a soft and intimate caress that made her smile.

“No, not tonight. Couldn’t sleep…and I wanted to watch the snow.” Jack nodded, smiling, and turned to the window.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He asked, stroking her hair. Celia nodded, lips curling into a small smile. “Like somebody else I know…little firecracker.” She blushed, smiling widening into a grin, and raised her arms. Pale hands laced behind a strong, alabaster neck, fingertips just barely brushing Jack’s strong shoulders. She pulled his face down, to hers. And they kissed.

His lips, like the rest of him, were chilly. But Celia didn’t care. Being a natural reservoir of heat offset the worst of the cold. Besides, he was pleasantly cool, like a wet washcloth on a fevered forehead: comforting, loving, and slightly cold. Celia sighed and deepened the kiss, sliding her hand over his strong shoulders, down over his clavicle, and onto his chest. Her fingertips trailed down his pectoral muscle and drew the outline of his tattoo: an ebony snowflake, just above his right nipple. Her fingers made Jack shiver.

“Easy there, baby,” he whispered with a chuckle. “You’re getting a little handsy there. Isn’t that my job?” He pecked her nose. “You’re the innocent one…remember?” They both laughed, stroking each other. The two would’ve been content to stand in place for the rest of the night–him floating in the air, inches off the ground, and her on relaxing on the windowsill, wrapped in his arms–if it hadn’t been for the snow on their roof giving way.

The pile of snow weighed as much as they did combined, if not more. It fell in front of the window, dislodged by the rising drifts on their roof, and landed with a shockingly loud thump. They both jumped, startled. Celia’s head cracked against Jack’s chin. She saw stars.

After a few pain-filled seconds, they recovered. Celia lay flat in front of the windowsill, back collapsed on the cold floor. Jack lay next to her, rubbing his chin, chagrined. He apologized with a sheepish whisper, pulled her to him, and cuddled close.

“That hurt.” Celia tried to pout at Jack, but she couldn’t stop a smile from curving her lips. Lying in his arms did that to her. The pain in her head was already fading, but Jack didn’t know that. Or did he? He could read her like a book…and feel her posture begin to soften as the pain flowed away.

“Sorry,” he muttered again, fighting to keep the smile off his face. He knew her well enough to know when she was lying. His chest shook with contained laughter. Celia bit her lip, clamping her mouth shut to hold back a peal of laughter. It didn’t work. The dam of mirth burst. Celia broke into giggles, and Jack followed, hugging her and shaking her body with chuckles. Celia’s back was to him, but she could imagine his silly, toothy grin. Perfect white, open, and loving, just like the rest of him.

Eventually, the laughter died down, and they held each other on the floor. The carpet wasn’t nearly as soft as their abandoned bed, but their embrace was too precious to break, even for comfort.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, rolling over in his embrace. The laughter almost resurfaced as she struggled to free her arms from between their torsos, but she managed to cup his cheeks without making a complete fool of herself. After a few seconds of graceless struggle, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. Kissing was difficult–neither of them could keep the smile off their faces.

Celia would have been content to lay on the floor all night, silhouetted with him under the moonlight and the falling snow. But as they lifted off the floor, courtesy of Jack’s ability to fly, she realized her lover had…other plans. She clung to his bare chest as they lifted into the air, wrapping her arms around his back and holding on for dear life. “You’re squeezing me,” he murmured playfully as they rotated into a standing position. Celia blushed, but didn’t loosen her grip until the carpet tickled her toes.

Jack set her down slowly, lowered his hands to her hips, and kissed her again. She never tired of his kisses, but this one was…different. None of his kisses were exactly chaste, but he was passionate now. Celia sighed into the kiss, playful smile vanishing under his lips, and opened her mouth to his. Her heart quickened.

They took gradual, tiny steps, Celia moving backward into their bedroom, approaching the bed. Jack advanced just as slow, running his hands along her legs. The trails they left on her skin gave her chills, making her shudder. She pressed her hands between them as they kissed, harder now, opening their mouths to each other.

Her fingers, eager and intimate, caressed his hard, chiseled chest and the slim, powerful lines of his stomach. Jack’s flesh quivered and he pulled her closer, grabbing her butt and using it to for leverage. Celia yelped, giving him a naughty smirk before kissing him again, sliding her hands lower. She traced the V of his hips down into his pajama pants, reaching into them to wrap her hand around his shaft. It was cold in her hands, but hard as ice. Beneath her fingers, she could feel blood pulsing, responding to her touch.

“Hi there,” she whispered, standing on her toes to nibble his neck. Jack gave her a friendly, playful growl in response, kissing her forehead and wrapping his arms around her. His palms slid up the small of her back, moving slowly and gently up to her shoulders. He held them and pulled her close so that her head was beside his.

“I love you, Celia,” he whispered in her ear. She smiled and pressed her lips to his neck again, rubbing her warm cheek against his cold one. His words echoed in her ear, making her heart flutter. She knew he loved her, and she he knew that. But hearing Jack tell her…her heart swelled, and so did her temperature. Celia never tired of being told she was loved.

“I love you too, Jack,” she whispered in his ear. Her breath was warm, so warm that she could see it melt the omnipresent ice crystals on his skin. A patch of pink appeared beneath her lips as they breathed together, long and slow, him holding her and her holding his most intimate part. The embrace was long and loving, hot and cold wrapping around each other, pressed together. She squeezed him gently before drawing her fingers out of his pants and moving them to the collar of her loose, rumpled nightshirt.

She stepped deftly out of jack’s arms and undid the first button. His eyes drifted downward and locked onto the slowly descending collar, where her cleavage lay waiting. She grinned at his reaction, blushing but enjoying the attention. She slid her arms up through the sleeves, trying to slip the shirt up and off her bare shoulders…but she got stuck. Her arms tangled in the fabric, and after several seconds of struggling, Celia peeked through a sleeve at Jack’s amused expression.

“Honey, a little help?” She pleaded. “I’m stuck.” Jack chuckled and scooped her into his arms. Shirt dragged over her face, blocking her vision. But she could feel him set her on the bed facing the ceiling, and hear rustling fabric as he took her remaining clothes off.

Celia sat up, disoriented but smiling. Her shirt lay abandoned on the bed, exposing her to her lover’s touch. But Jack was gone. Celia frowned, then smiled again. Invisible. He’s invisible. Her smile broadened into a wide grin as cold air tickled her ribs, telling her that Jack, while invisible, was only inches away.

Her nipples were next to feel the cold, growing erect in time with the goosebumps covering her skin. Celia’s eyes went wide and her throat opened into a raw, powerful gasp as a cold, transparent mouth closed over a breast. His tongue, moist and nimble, swirled around one dusky mound, then the other.

“Jack…” she whispered. “Stop teasing me…” but Jack didn’t listen. Instead, he whirled around her, touching every inch he could reach. His fingers slid across her bare stomach, leaving chilly trails over her skin. When she whirled to face her invisible partner, he slid a finger from the her tailbone all the way up to her neck before whirling away again.

He pinched her butt, and this time Celia was fast enough to slap his wrist. Giggling, she turned around, with his spit evaporating into tiny wisps of steam. “C’mon, Jack. Come and get me–eee…” He’d grabbed her breasts again and starting sucking them, harder than before. They dilated and deformed under his still-invisible hands, but Celia was too busy throwing her head back to notice. Jack’s mouth leapt from one nipple to the other, sucking the nubs between his cold lips, pinching and twisting every so slightly, making her mouth open in a silent “o” of pleasure.

Jack pulled away again. A gentle, complaining whine slid from her as Celia caught her breath, staring around the room for him. Jack’s powers ran haywire, chilling the air. Ice frosted the curtains, and they stiffened, coated in a thin layer of ice. There was a thump, and Celia jumped at the sound Jack’s pajama pants crumpling against the window. She looked around for him, beaming. A floorboard creaked behind her, and she whirled to face him, arms outstretched.

She yelped. Sudden pain zipped up her hand as Jack, still invisible, met her extended knuckles. A sheepish “sorry” came from the other side of the bed as they retreated and nursed their respective bruises. Jack reappeared at the edge of the bed, smiling self-consciously and rubbing his temple with his palm.

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I’m normally quieter than that.” Celia laughed and opened her arms to him, inviting him to embrace her. The innocent gesture was ruined by the fact that she was completely, utterly naked. And so was he.

“What kind of rapscallion are you, anyway?” She teased. “If you were a decent dashing rogue, you’d know how to treat a lady.” He looked astonished–playful banter, in or out of the bedroom, was his forte–but recovered quickly. Jack gave his familiar, debonair smile and knelt at the foot of the bed, taking her hand.

“Well, dear lady. Perhaps this dashing rogue ought to kiss your hand?” He kissed her knuckles with ostentatious finesse. Celia smiled and rolled her eyes, batting her eyelids dramatically. His lips were soft and damp, cool on her skin. They traveled up her wrist, over her arm, and over her arms. Celia’s eyes widened as he traveled closer to her body, teasing her with gentle kisses.

“Now really, s-sir! That’s no way to treat a lady!” The laughter caught in her throat when his lips dragged over the side of her breasts, drawing a descending curve around the nipple. He pushed her down onto the mattress, his hands on her shoulders. He was gentle, exceedingly so, but firm.

Jack never left her torso as he traveled down her. He varied the pressure, to be sure–sometimes his mouth barely touched her, and his fast, cool breath caressed her body more than lips. Other times he kissed her hard, sucking her flesh into his mouth and leaving circles of reddened skin when moved on. But Celia loved it no matter how hard he kissed her. Instead, she relaxed and closed her eyes, occasionally jumping when he bit her in a flash of impulsive playfulness, and let herself soak in sensation as Jack traveled inexorably down her leg.

When he reached her knee, he nibbled it. Celia opened her eyelids again to see him hunched over her left kneecap with a wide, mischievous grin. She rolled her eyes and giggled.

“That is the opposite of sexy, dear.” Her icy lover winked.

“Oh, come now. Everything I do is sexy.” He laid a hand on his chest. “Because I’m sexy.” Holding the proud, mockingly arrogant pose, Jack faded into oblivion. His weight still left an imprint on the bed, but he was invisible again.

Celia started to respond with a playful remark, but the hoarse gasp that, escaped her throat unbidden beat her to it. Still invisible, and with the speed of a master thief (after all, he switched objects resting on pressure plates fairly often) Jack’d pushed her legs apart and grabbed the space between them. His hand pulsed, squeezing her lips with the belly of his palm. Her cunt, already moist and flushed, swelled under his care.

Celia moaned aloud. The liquid stirring within her began to leak in earnest, covering Jack’s hand and coating her inner thighs. He pulsed his hand faster, then slowly pulled it away. She made a small, discontented sound and looked down plaintively. Like a cheshire cat, Jack reappeared grin-first and slid his hand down her thighs, making her quake. Shifting, he laid stomach-first between her legs and kissed each inner thigh.

Celia wriggled with sweet satisfaction as Jack pushed his cool face between her thighs. He licked her gently, sweetly, stimulating the most sensitive parts of her body with his gentle, loving mouth. Celia laid on the mattress, eyes closed, blissfully relaxed. She moaned occasionally, letting little “ooohs” and tiny “yeses” pass her lips. Whenever Jack pressed her clit, or his tongue slipped across it, she jumped and pressed her hips onto his face.

Unbidden, her hands crept onto his head, rising above her thighs like a snow-covered hill with rumpled hair. Analogies were never my strong suit was Celia’s last coherent thought for awhile. All other thought melted into a puddle of warm, sweet pleasure as Jack increased the pressure on her sex; sucking her clit, gently fingering her with long, thin digits, parting her lips with his other hand to let the air chill her innermost parts.

Most women would have hated the frigid feeling. But Celia wasn’t most girls. Her body compensated for the chill, heating the region between her legs until steam hissed from every point Jack licked her. Her body literally sizzled under his caresses and his tongue. Besides, she liked the cold. Cold meant Jack, and Jack meant love. He meant security, caring, passion, protection, and–pleasure.

He wormed two fingers through her folds and slipped them inside, making her whimper. When the fingers were buried up to the knuckle inside her, Jack began to curl them. Just above his probing, Jack stopped roaming his mouth over her sex and instead sucked her clit. She moaned aloud, her hips bucked, her breath caught, her toes curled. And Celia came.

It wasn’t dramatic. She didn’t scream Jack’s name or cry out to the almighty. She didn’t melt into a sobbing, gasping mess of pleasure until the orgasm passed. She didn’t squirt liquid into Jack’s face, forcing his fingers out of her and soaking their bedsheets. But she definitely orgasmed.

Her mind stopped, her breath froze, and every nerve between her legs caught fire. Celia’s lips opened in a silent, blissful gasp, pulling frigid air into her lungs as her eyes shot wide open. Her hands pulled Jack’s hair until his head couldn’t move even if he’d wanted it to. Her pussy clenched, squeezing his fingers. She sent up a wave of vapor into the air, filling the room with steam and the smell of sex. Celia flew on her orgasm.

And then she landed.

When she looked down at him, Jack was staring at her. He looked stunned: eyes wide, mouth open. But he sat up, and as she watched, his face dissolved into the familiar, roguish grin that made her heart flutter.

“Look at you,” She laughed, sat up, and dabbled his face with a corner of the sheet. “You’re all wet.” Jack winked, laughed, and kissed her. Celia melted into his cool torso, relaxing her body until she curled up against him. He was salty, and tasted like her–it reminded her of the time she’d masturbated and decided, in an act of curiosity, to see what she tasted like. But Jack was better…Celia could have kissed him all night, but something was poking her hip. And it was becoming more insistent by the minute.

She looked down at Jack’s cock. It was pale, long, and veiny, and looking more inviting by the second. Celia reached down and tentatively took it into her hand. It twitched, jumping in her grip, and Celia jumped with it. She yelped, surprised.

“Don’t do that! It’s a penis, not a tentacle!” Jack cackled. Celia rolled her eyes, but stroked him all the same. Up and down the length, sliding the loose skin over the rigid core beneath. She reached the tip and rubbed her thumb across the head, and he moaned. Celia nearly came again, shuddering from just the sound of his voice, but held herself together.

“Jack?” She whispered, timid. “You, uh…”

“Yes?” he probed, stroking her shoulders encouragingly.

“Well, um…” she blushed. “You ate me out, and I liked it, so…” He nodded, enthusiasm rising in his expression. “Can I return the favor?” she asked in a small voice.

Jack grinned. “Yes, of course,” he purred, leaning toward her. Then he shook the seductive pose and laughed. “Come on, baby,” he laughed, laying down. “Suck my cocksickle!” Jack cackled, clearly thrilled with his own joke. Celia smacked his thigh, but crawled between his spread legs all the same.

Jack’s cock loomed before her, long and veiny and gorgeous.Celia bit her lip and looked it up and down again, scanning every detail…From the swollen, blue-tinged head to the pale sac, tight and waiting below his base. She leaned forward, hesitated, then leaned forward again. He stroked her cheek, soft and sweet, as she took him in her hand.

Pulling gently, Celia drew Jack’s cock to her face and kissed the head. The skin was soft and velvety, giving beneath her lips. She kissed it again and drew a thumb over the top, making him jump and bop her in the nose. She yelped, leaping backwards, then smacked him again.

“Jack Frost, I am trying to give you a blowjob!” she mock-scolded. “Please stop pretending your penis is prehensile and let me suck you off a little bit!” He pouted playfully, but she ignored his feeble protests (“I couldn’t help it this time…”) and stuck out her tongue. She started at the base, pushing into the spot where his cock met the sack below, and slid upward.

“Oh, god, Celia,” Jack moaned with theatrical extravagance. “Oh my god, it feels so good. Yeah, baby, lick my–” Celia stopped mid-lick and withdrew her tongue. She glared up at him and smacked his thigh. This time, it was hard enough to sting.

“Look,” she sighed. “Do you want me to suck you off, or not?” Jack nodded silently, pretending to look abashed. “Then if you’re not moaning, shut up.” He nodded with childish enthusiasm, clasping his hands together and promising to be good. Celia rolled her eyes and resumed her slow, luxurious progress up his shaft.

When she reached the head, she flattened her tongue and roved over the cool, velvety skin. She covered every inch, re-covering the same area two or three times until the entire glans was wet. Jack’s cock oozed a single drop of precum, accompanied by a contented sigh. Celia licked it up, but didn’t realize it until the salty taste had filled her mouth. She swallowed and shivered. Something about that taste…without meaning to, she reached beneath her body and pressed her fingers to her sex, rubbing slowly.

Above her, Jack’s chest was rising faster. Pectorals heaved, abdominals caved, and shoulders shook with every slight touch, every change in pressure. Celia couldn’t help but wetten watching him. His every motion, sound, or expression came from her tongue on his head, her hand wrapped ‘around his shaft. When he whispered her name, it was too much. Celia steeled herself, taking a deep breath. The air was full of cold and Jack’s wonderful, musky scent. She opened wide, leaned forward, and took the head in her mouth.

He felt strange against her tongue. Larger than she’d imagined, for sure. The base of his head was aligned with her lips, but the tip rested on the middle of her tongue and he pressed comfortably against the roof of her mouth. Celia sighed and closed her eyes, savoring the sensation; his coolness, the size of his head, the pressure as he laid his hands on her temples.

Celia sucked gently. Her cheeks caved around him and her tongue roved around the head deep inside her mouth. She pushed gently, ambitiously trying to take some of his shaft into her. But when she reached a third of the way down, the head pressed the back of her throat, and she gagged.

She pulled away, coughing furiously. Jack sat up and rubbed her bare shoulders while she struggled with her gag reflex. When she finished, she peered up at him through a curtain of frizzy white hair. Celia coughed again, then bit her lip. She stared at the bedspread, then glanced timidly up at Jack. He shook his head, smiling.

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.” He kissed her cheek, stroked the small of her back, and pulled her to him. “You tried, and that’s what counts. And it makes you feel any better…” Jack nipped her nose, making her giggle. “It felt really nice.”

They cuddled for a few minutes, lying back. Each massaged a choice part of their partner’s body, keeping the embers of passion simmering. Celia’s hand was wrapped around Jack’s full, wonderful cock, and his fingers had buried themselves between her legs. Every so often, one of them would jump and sigh before settling back into rhythm, but for the most part, they were silent. Jack and Celia masturbated one another, quietly stimulating their lover until Celia finally spoke up:

“I want to try again.”

Jack paused, finger buried to the second knuckle. “You sure? He asked. His eyes were soft and voice concerned, but Jack couldn’t conceal the undercurrent of excitement running through his voice. “I mean, you didn’t seem to enjoy it…”

Celia shook her head emphatically. “No, I liked it.” She winked. “I liked what it did to you.” She released him and clambered down the bed again, spreading his legs and settling herself between them. She licked her lips and took him in hand. “I liked it because it made you feel good.” She leaned forward without giving Jack the chance to reply, focused entirely on putting his cock back in her mouth. But a pair of firm hands on her shoulders stopped her.

“Wait,” he murmured. He Jack reached beneath her and pushed her lips upward, tickling her and making her giggle. Then she blushed, arching her back and lifting her body to accommodate him as he slid beneath her. He shuffled about, put his head between her legs, and before she knew it, he’d grabbed her ass and pulled her onto his mouth.

Stretching like a cat, her back concave, Celia quivered. She wriggled her butt in Jack’s hands, adjusting until she’d pushed his roving, licking tongue onto just the right spot. And she squealed.

Her ass lifted, she glanced down, and Jack, wet-faced and beaming, smirked at her from beneath her body. “Enjoying yourself?” he teased, before diving in tongue-first. She wriggled against him before leaning lower and taking his cock in her mouth again. Celia’s head bobbed as Jack licked, sucking him in while he pushed inside with his cold, wonderful tongue. The cold was almost painful between her legs, but the cold that accompanied it just made her wetter. She wasn’t a kinky woman, but the combination of pain and pleasure was definitely turning her on.

Then the teasing began. While the slurping and sucking around Jack’s dick continued until her spit ran down his balls, the licking slowed to a slow, tantalizing pace, with barely enough pressure to be felt. Celia backed herself onto him, but he held her at bay, holding her back with his lovely, powerful arms. The tip of his tongue slid up and down her slit, barely parting the folds of skin surrounding it. Moaning, Celia curled her spine and bit her lip.

“Jack,” she moaned. Her voice wavered. Wetness flowed from her sex, coating her crotch and thighs with liquid. She was desperate, and Jack knew it. “Put it in. Please!” She gasped, caught by momentum as he rolled over, holding his body over hers. His cock hung inches from her face, but when she leaned upward to suck it, he moved away. The resulting small, discontented whine died in her throat when she realized where he was going.

Jack reoriented himself over her, aligning their bodies. His face hung over her, and he pecked her lips,her cheek, her neck. He teased her, rocking his hips back and forth so that his shaft slid along her inner thighs. He kissed her again, this time passionate and powerful. Celia sighed and reached between her legs to rub her clit. Her heart pounded in her chest. Feigning bashfulness, she ducked her head and gave him a smoldering smile. Her eyes glowed blue.

“No more teasing. Fuck me, Jack Frost,” she growled, voice husky. The sound of Celia, normally so bashful, so shy, talking dirty, stunned him. But to Celia’s delight, he recovered quickly. His only response, a capricious smile, spoke for him. Celia bit her lip, he narrowed his eyes, and he slid into her.

The couple moaned in unison. They breathed slow, shuddering breaths, ragged and long, matching with his pace as Jack slowly, inexorably, pushed into her. Celia’s toes curled and she opened her legs to him, spreading them as wide as they’d go. Steam hissed from her cunt in thin wisps, hissing from the junction where his cold member met her hot, flowing juices.

“Jack,” Celia moaned throatily. “Oh God, Jack.” He filled her perfectly, cold and hard as ice. When the base kissed her lips, she purred and wrapped her pale legs around his (perfect) butt and pulled. He chuckled and kissed her, drawing her lower lip between his teeth.

His hands dug into her ass, making her blush. Using her hips to draw out and pull her body onto him, he began to thrust. Legs loosely curled around him, Celia wrapped her arms around his perfect torso and let herself be swept into the slow, luxurious ride.

Two sets of eyes held each others’ gaze, the cheeks beneath them flushed with loving desire. Lips parted with whimpers and sweet nothings, gasped thanks and moaned exaltations. He thrust faster. His cock began to thaw, friction or her own abnormal temperature warming his wonderful, frigid dick. Or Celia was just becoming accustomed to the cold…a particularly emphatic thrust that drove his full length in shattered her thoughts of temperature.

Celia clung to him, pulling him deep with each stroke. Above her, just inches from her face, Jack let out constant grunts of effort and growls of pleasure, interspersed with her name. Every sound he made rippled into the lowest, most primal parts of her limbic system, combining with sensations from all over her body and making her feel…ecstatic.

His length pushed and pulled her folds with each stroke. His cock rammed inside her, plunged as far as it could go, splitting her, impaling her, filling her, making her whole. His mouth on hers, telling her with kisses and with words how much he loved her, how much he wanted her, how good she made him feel. His fingers dug into her rear, driving him deeper and making her moan. His chest pressed flat to hers, compressing her breasts and scraping her nipples along the cool landscape of his pectorals. Orgasm welled inside her.

“Jack–Jack!” She screamed his name. The explosion of pleasure was as intense as it was sudden…it normally took her much longer to cum, but had more powerful orgasms in response. This one had all the power with none of the wait. There was no buildup or anticipation. Just raw, incredible sensation.

Beneath her lover, Celia writhed. Her toes curled until they cracked. Her fingers, curling into Jack’s chiseled shoulder blades, glowed blue. Normal women clawed red lines into their mens’ skins’. Celia, unintentionally, left faint brands on her lover’s body. Jack winced in pain but drove doggedly through nonetheless. It wasn’t difficult; Celia was bucking her hips into him and grinding the base in furious circles. Her legs wrapped like vises around his hips, pulling him in as the orgasm and its animal shudders tore through her body. It was all Jack could do to keep thrusting, to push through the contractions of her walls, and keep her going.

And then it was over.

She unwrapped her legs and relaxed, grinding lazily. With a soft apology, she extinguished her blazing hands and stroked the tender, raw skin her fingers had left behind. She started to whisper a horrified apology and roll out from under him, but he kissed her, soft and sweet, and murmured that he was all right.

“In fact, I kinda liked it,” he joked. She rolled her eyes and spanked him playfully. They both giggled, and for a short while, they laid together. They savored the feeling of him inside her, cold hardness buried in her body’s hot, wet embrace. His hands held her breasts, hers groped his ass. And they laid together, bodies naked and united. As one. Whole.

Then Celia gasped. “Jack! You didn’t cum!” She’d been too busy orgasming to realize that he hadn’t burst inside her, and too occupied with enjoying the afterglow to realize he wasn’t doing the same. She felt terrible. “I’m sorry.” She bit her lip and steeled herself as he started to thrust again, slowly, taking care not to overstimulate her.

Without a word, Celia rolled over, setting herself on top. Jack stared as she sat up, looking as surprised as he felt. She never dominated him. Celia was submissive in and out of bed, timid even. But here, in the dark, with snow falling around them and Jack buried inside her, she felt confidence growing.

He looked as surprised with her sudden, impulsive daring as she felt. Her tongue flicked over her lips with concentration as she began to ride him, taking care not to bend the wrong way. She leaned forward, breasts hanging low and plump in his face. They swayed with her pace, showing off her body inches in front of him. Stiff and locked, her arms braced against his strong shoulders anchoring her in place.

Riding faster, her hips rolled. His cock was buried in her, all the way to the base. Celia stared at Jack, but he was looking below her….bending her neck, Celia followed his gaze to where their bodies met, a wet, thrusting, pulsing junction where their bodies united. Jack began to tremble and he began to twitch against her walls. She bit her lip. Glancing back to his face, she was just in time to see his gaze sharpen, growing more intense.

“Lean back,” he moaned, voice hoarse. It was husky and deep, a robust octave born from deep within his chest. He was close. “I want to see.” She hesitated, but he pushed her back and spread her legs. Not wanting to hurt him (or bend his cock the wrong way), Celia resisted. But Jack wouldn’t be denied his show.

He rubbed her clit, just above where he entered her, and her muscles loosened. When they did, he pushed her thighs apart. Squealing playfully, Celia threw her hands behind her and planted them on either side of his thighs, just barely keeping her balance. His eyes locked on her sex, and his cock spreading it, thrusting into it, fucking it. Celia rocked her hips vertically, pushing him into her, riding him. She bit her lip, watching him watch her, watching his breathing grow ragged.

Jack began to thrust again, but Celia planted herself onto his hips, stopping him. “I want to make you cum. All on my own. Okay?” He nodded, whining hoarsely, and Celia didn’t wait for him to change his mind. She rode him again, faster and faster, rocking her hips. Swelling inside her, his cock pressed against her walls. It wouldn’t be long now.

With an ecstatic cry, Jack lost his self-control and thrust himself into her. The impact knocked her forward, and the angle of his hips sent her falling into his arms. He held her tight and pushed himself into her, body shaking. Arms squeezed tight around her, locking her body in place, and he jerked. The first burst, cold and wet, pumped into her.

Unable to move (but not minding in the slightest), Celia bit her lip. His semen was cold inside her, filling her up with each twitch. She shuddered, moaned, then sighed heavily. It’d been a few days since they’d last had sex, and Jack’s blissful release was obvious. The evidence, after all, had filled her pussy.

They relaxed. Jack’s spine sank into the mattress, tension flowing from his limbs with the orgasm. Celia giggled and pecked his chin, staring down into his glazed, groggy eyes. He smiled weakly, then gasped.

He was sensitive so soon after orgasming, and Celia sliding off him only made it worse. When she finally pulled him out and the seal between their bodies broke, a thin rivulet of white liquid and a hissing tendril of steam poured from her, moving in opposite directions. Liquid flowing down, gas hissing up Celia raised her eyebrows teasingly and winked. Jack laughed and pulled her into his arms.

Every inch of skin was coated in sweat. Their faces and bodies shone with it. Their hips and privates were covered in each others’ juices; semen and lube and sweat and spit all mixed together in a drying souvenir of the past few minutes.

An aftershock shivered up Celia’s spine. She sighed, still trying to get her breath, and cuddled up to Jack’s naked chest. He was cool against her, pulling unwanted heat away from her tired muscles. Her body relaxed. Weak and trembling, his free arm wrapped around her shoulders, and the other tucked her head beneath his chin. His chest rose and fell, carrying her head with it.

Celia smiled and closed her eyes. Her life before Jack was…lonely. But she never had to worry about nightmares–or being alone–with him. He was strong, cold, and loving as a snow day’s cuddle. She’d felt damaged and unwanted for so long, but he’d made her feel whole, given her things she thought she could never have. He’d given her a home, he’d given her love, and he’d given her sex.

And as she squirmed away from the chilly puddle of spilled semen on the bed, she realized that, soon, he could be giving her something else. Celia was on the pill, and took great care in using it. But she realized, lying in his strong, sleepy arms, that if he were willing, and she were ready…he could give her a family. She hadn’t thought it’d be possible, but she’d finally found someone who she could love, and trust, without any reservations. As she snuggled deeper into his chest and laid her head against his breastbone, Celia Winter closed her eyes.

She fell asleep listening to his heartbeat.