Chapter 172: Breeding the Ice Empress *

Silas suddenly kissed her, and she responded in kind.

The kiss deepened. Slow, then hungry, then something in between, a rhythm that belonged only to them. Chloe’s fingers tightened in his pink hair, pulling him closer, and she opened her mouth beneath his, tasting herself on his tongue.

He pulled back just enough to look at her. Her blue eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, but there was no hesitation there. No uncertainty. Just want.

"I want you," she said, quiet and certain. "All of you."

Silas’s heart stuttered. He’d heard those words before, but they hit the same every time, a punch to the chest, a warmth that spread through his ribs.

"Then have me."

He kissed her again, softer, a press of lips that said everything he couldn’t find words for. Then he stood, lifted her from the sofa, and carried her to the bedroom.

The sheets were still rumpled from the morning. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in fingers of golden afternoon light. He laid her down gently, her white hair spilling across the pillow like fresh snow, and she reached for him, pulling him down with her.

Their clothes came off in pieces. His shirt, already hanging open. Her shirt, slipping over her head, exposing the pale curve of her breasts. His jeans hitting the floor. Her panties, still damp, sliding down her legs. Until there was nothing between them but heat.

He paused above her, his weight braced on his elbows, and looked at her.

She was beautiful. The softness of her stomach, the swell of her breasts, the way her white hair fanned out across the pillow. The faint flush that spread from her cheeks down to her chest. The trust in her eyes. The way she was already reaching for him.

"You’re staring," she whispered.

"Still not tired of the view."

She pulled him down and kissed the corner of his mouth. "You can stare later. Right now... "

"Impatient."

"You know exactly what you do to me."

He laughed, low and warm, and shifted his hips. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, and she was wet, slick, and ready and already arching toward him. No resistance. Just welcome.

"Slow?" he asked.

"Don’t you dare."

He thrust forward.

She took him in one smooth motion, her body yielding with practiced ease, and the sound she made, half gasp, half moan, was one he knew by heart. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, and her nails traced the lines of his shoulders.

"Fuck," she breathed. "I needed this."

"Me too."

He set a rhythm. Not slow. Not hesitant. This was the pace of two people who knew each other’s bodies, who’d mapped the territory and memorized the landmarks. Her hips rose to meet his thrusts with instinctive precision. The sound of their bodies filled the room, soft, wet, rhythmic. Her moans grew louder, and he didn’t swallow them this time. He wanted to hear them.

"There," she gasped, her nails raking down his back. "Right... there..."

He gave her right there. The angle he’d learned weeks ago, the one that made her blue eyes roll back. Over and over.

"Missed this," he said against her throat. "Missed you."

"I’ve been right here."

"Not really."

Her breath caught, not just from his thrusts. Her hand came up to his cheek, and she made him look at her. Pink eyes meeting blue.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I didn’t mean to shut you out."

"I know."

"I just..." She gasped as he hit that spot again. "I was scared. Of the enlightenment. Of what it meant. Of losing... ah~."

"You won’t lose me."

"Promise?"

He kissed her. Deep and fierce. "Promise."

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and something shifted. The rhythm changed, still deep, still relentless, but softer at the edges. More tender. His hand slid down her side, tracing the familiar curve of her waist, the jut of her hip, the softness of her thigh. He hooked her leg higher.

She shuddered. "I’m close."

"Good." He thrust deeper, harder. "Let go. I’ve got you."

His hand slipped between their bodies, finding her clit. He knew exactly how to touch her now, the pressure, the rhythm, the way she liked it just before she came. Two circles, a flick, and... Chloe shattered around him.

Her body seized, back arching off the mattress, white hair strewn wild across the pillow. Her walls clenched around his cock in waves that milked him toward his own edge. She cried out, no fist to muffle it this time, no restraint. Just his name, raw and broken.

He followed a heartbeat later, spilling inside her with a groan that came from somewhere deeper than sound.

They collapsed together. His weight pressed her into the mattress, and she held him there, her arms wrapped tight around him, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants against his neck.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then she laughed, quiet and giddy. Her fingers traced lazy circles on his back.

"You always know what I need."

He lifted his head just enough to look at her. Sweat-damp white hair. Flushed cheeks. Blue eyes hazy with satisfaction. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, every single time.

"Took some practice."

"Mm." She smiled, that small, sincere one he’d fallen in love with. "Good thing we have plenty of time for more."

He kissed her forehead. "All the time in the world."

Outside, the afternoon light shifted, lengthening toward evening. Somewhere in the distance, someone was probably looking for them, Kassie, maybe, or Fred, or one of the instructors preparing for the tournament. None of that mattered. Not yet.

Chloe shifted, settling more comfortably against him, her head tucked beneath his chin. Her white hair tickled his nose.

"I meant it," she murmured. "About being scared. But I’m done hiding from you."

"I know."

She tilted her chin up, meeting his pink eyes with her blue ones. "Do you?"

"I love you, Chloe. Not because you’re powerful. Not because of some prophecy or inheritance or ice jotun legacy. Because you’re you. The girl who plays shooting games on her phone and lets a cat live on her head and puffs her cheeks when she’s annoyed."

She snorted. "That’s a terrible list."

"There’s more. I’m just tired."

She smacked his chest, but she was smiling. A real one. Wide and bright and unguarded in a way she rarely let herself be.

"Idiot."

"Your idiot."

"Yeah." She pressed her lips to his collarbone, soft and warm. "My idiot."

A soft mew broke the silence. Skadi rematerialized at the foot of the bed, her tiny white body curling into a ball on the corner of the blanket. She gave them one judgmental look, then tucked her nose under her tail.

Chloe laughed. "Even the cat thinks we’re ridiculous."

"Worth it."

She settled against him, her body warm and loose and finally, finally present. Not distant. Not lost in her thoughts. Here.

"Worth it," she echoed.