Christmas Carol: Fire and Ice Lacey Savage All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2007 Lacey Savage
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ISBN: 978-1-59596-775-6
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Editor: Maryam Salim
Cover Artist: Renee’ George
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Christmas Carol: Fire and Ice Lacey Savage The ice man cometh… Elle Sutcliffe will do anything to stay far away from happy couples making out under sprigs of mistletoe. So when her best friend asks for a favor on Christmas Eve, she quickly agrees. After all, she only has to watch an ice cream store for a couple of hours. Or so she thinks, until she learns there’s more than frozen yogurt in the walk-in freezer. When she sneaks inside to investigate, she finds a six-foot ice sculpture of a naked man, carved to mouthwatering perfection. If only Elle’s body temperature didn’t run hot enough to melt ice from two feet away, she might be able to put all that hard masculine beauty to some real use. Then again, one brief touch couldn’t hurt… could it?
Chapter One “Tonight’s the night, Elle! Can you believe it? In a few hours, I’ll be engaged!” A frigid gust of wind slammed the door to the Kool Kreme ice cream store behind Elle Sutcliffe. In the busy summer months, the silvery chime that announced new customers never stopped ringing. Now it echoed sullenly through the store, its tinny wail mirroring the empty, forlorn feel of the place. Elle stomped her feet on the floor mat to dislodge some of the fresh snow she’d tracked in, and gave Ricki Delaney, her best friend since high school, a shaky smile. “I hope you’re right, but --” Ricki waved Elle’s concern away with a flip of her perfectly manicured nails. “But nothing. It’s Christmas Eve. Mike’s been waiting for the perfect time to pop the question. This is it.” Unconvinced, Elle yanked the scarf off altogether and draped it over the hook on the wall. Her shawl followed. “You started dating right out of high school. You know as well as I do those teenage crushes never amount to anything.” Ricki’s spine stiffened. Elle didn’t have to see her face to know she was frowning, so she softened her tone. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.” “Just because your high school sweetheart left town the day he graduated doesn’t mean all relationships work out that way. Besides, we’re not all holding out for Prince Charming to sweep us off our feet.” “I’m not --” Ricki cut her off again with a snort. “Sure you are, Elle. You’ve been waiting since third grade.”
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Elle opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again. They’d had this argument before. It never ended well. She shuffled down the length of the display case, glancing at the myriad of assorted flavors. Ricki’s parents had owned the store for thirty years. Although they’d passed away, their presence still lingered in the place. From the vinyl bar stools that sat around the counter to the framed black-and-white pictures showing two people very much in love, Mr. and Mrs. Delaney would live on as long as Kool Kreme remained open. And if Ricki had anything to say about it, that would be forever. “Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Mike said this couldn’t wait, so I really appreciate you filling in for me. You can start closing around eight-thirty. Technically we should stay open until nine, but I doubt anyone will be by that late on Christmas Eve.” Elle drew her lower lip between her teeth and bit down. She didn’t have the heart to remind Ricki that no one came in to the store at this time of the year. Except for her, of course. Kool Kreme provided the perfect refuge from the endless parade of happy couples smooching under every loose strand of mistletoe they came upon. She sighed happily as she glanced at the ceiling. Perfect. Not a leafy strand of the awful stuff anywhere. “The tubs will keep in the refrigerated display cases, so you don’t need to do anything with those when you close. Don’t lean against the counter.” Elle blinked, her brain trying to process the rapid shift in topic. Ricki had just finished tugging on her boot, and she still had her back to the serving area where Elle stood. Or rather, where she leaned against the counter. Elle jerked herself away. When she’d put enough distance between herself and the containers, she peered at the display. She couldn’t have been standing there for even a minute, yet that had been long enough to melt the surface area of half the containers. “Sorry,” she murmured sheepishly. “I should know better.”
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She was usually more careful, but worrying about Ricki took precedence over remembering to stay away from the ice cream. Elle’s body temperature ran much hotter than everyone else’s. It had been that way since she was born. Luckily, it hadn’t affected her ability to interact with people -the few boyfriends she’d had loved her natural heat -- but frozen objects didn’t stay that way for long around her. She couldn’t even hold an ice cream cone for more than thirty seconds before it transformed into a gooey mess. Luckily, it rarely took longer than that to serve a customer. Her unusual ability came with a few perks. Aside from being a great conversation starter, it also gave her a natural immunity to the harsh Minnesota winters. When everyone else in Blue Falls donned mittens, hats, snow boots and parkas, she felt perfectly comfortable in a woolen shawl and long pants. She still wore boots to keep her feet dry, but she could choose the sexy, flimsy kind over the fur-lined militarystyle ones that were so popular. “Okay, I’m off.” Ricki beamed an exuberant smile and pushed open the door. At the last moment, she stopped and smacked her gloved hand against her forehead. “I almost forgot. Not that you go back there anyway, but there’s an ice man in the freezer.”
Chapter Two For the second time that evening, Elle blinked in confusion. “There’s a… what?” Ricki laughed. “A man made of ice. It’s for the ice sculpture competition taking place this weekend.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper, and Elle had to strain to hear her over the whistle of the wind careening through the half open door. “Liam Blackhawk needed a place to do his magic. The location he chose had to be subzero, private, and protected from the elements. I offered the freezer. And oh, yeah… he’s still in there.” Elle’s jaw dropped. “Liam Blackhawk? The Liam Blackhawk? And you weren’t going to tell me?!” Mirth glowed in Ricki’s eyes. “Teenage crushes never amount to anything, remember? Still, I didn’t want you to have a heart attack when he came out.” With a wave of her hand and another one of those infuriating grins, she let the door close behind her. “Wait!” By the time Elle reached the door, Ricki had climbed into her battered Honda. Liam Blackhawk. Oh, God. Everyone in Blue Falls knew that name. He was the pride of the town. They’d even renamed the high school from Washington to Blackhawk High. Ironic, really, considering the man had earned his celebrity status by crafting erotic sculptures. She supposed there were worse role models for kids these days. At least what Liam did was actually considered art. Only it wasn’t just art. It had to be magic.
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His sculptures practically glowed. Brimming with detail, rumor had it they worked as a potent aphrodisiac when anyone looked upon them. Elle had never seen one up close, but she’d studied them online and in magazines often enough. Just recently, Time magazine nicknamed Liam “The Medium Master.” She remembered that cover. The featured metal sculpture showed a man lying on his back while a woman straddled him. His hands gripped her hips. Her head was thrown back, her hair seeming to shimmer and move as it flowed down her shoulders and over the length of her spine to sweep across the man’s legs. Strategically placed across the spot where their striking anatomy joined, the headline read: Is There Any Medium Blackhawk Can’t Master? As for the man himself… Oh, God. An appreciative sigh slid past Elle’s lips. The photograph accompanying the article was more breathtaking than the sculptures. His piercing blue eyes peered right at the camera, as though he could see right through the lens and into the soul of whoever happened to be glancing at the picture. He’d worn black jeans that molded to his muscular thighs. A navy T-shirt stretched across broad shoulders, highlighting the perfectly sculpted curve of his biceps. Oh yeah, Liam had definitely changed since high school. They’d only been in the same class once in the four years Elle had attended Washington High, but that had been more than enough. She almost failed History because she couldn’t take her eyes off him. At the time, she’d been dating someone. And just like her boyfriend, Liam had also fled Blue Falls right after graduation. Last she’d heard, he’d settled in London. Now he was back. Not just in Blue Falls, but here, in Kool Kreme. Suddenly, every cell in her body seemed attuned to his presence. She turned her head to stare at the metallic double-doors leading into the industrial-size freezer. Arousal peaked at the apex of her thighs and her nipples beaded, puckering against her flimsy cotton blouse. She pressed her legs together in a feeble attempt to
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ease the ache that had been building in her pussy since Ricki had said those two magic words. Liam Blackhawk. God, his name alone oozed sex appeal. She wondered where he got his inspiration for the sculptures he so lovingly crafted. Did he study couples in the heat of the moment? Maybe he had his own studio in London, where people paid for the privilege of fucking in front of him just so they could be immortalized in one of his priceless works of art. Her right hand moved of its own accord, slipping over her belly, pressing down just above her mound. Was he actually planning on unveiling an erotic ice sculpture at the competition? As soon as the thought struck, she was on her feet, moving toward the freezer unit. It wasn’t until she was halfway there that she realized she’d been leaning against the counter again. She couldn’t even muster up the guilt to feel bad about ruining the ice cream. It served Ricki right for not telling her about Liam. A smile tilted the corners of Elle’s mouth. She should introduce herself. Ask him if he needed anything. Cup of coffee, Mr. Blackhawk? Frozen yogurt? Me, spread-eagled and covered in melted French vanilla? Before she could change her mind, Elle took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The seam hissed and cold air escaped the interior of the freezer in a fine mist. “Hello?” she called out as she entered. “Mr. Blackhawk?” No response. A lone overhead bulb cast bright neon light directly above the center of the freezer’s interior, but the edges of the room remained shrouded in darkness. Elle cleared her throat as she waited for her eyes to adjust. “Liam?” Nothing. Not even the flick of a chisel or the scrape of a boot against the floor. Disappointment weighed heavily in her gut. He wasn’t here.
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Oh, he’d definitely been here at one point. She could make out the silhouette of the finished sculpture from her spot by the door. But aside from that and a few discarded tools, the freezer was obviously empty of all but commercial ice cream cartons. “Figures,” she mumbled under her breath. She barely felt the cold, but her body hummed as though coming alive in the freezing temperature. Her breasts felt heavy and her nipples ached, begging to be touched. She slipped her hand over a puckered nub, drawing it gently between her thumb and forefinger. Arousal zinged down her veins, shooting straight to her clit. At least she’d see the statue before anyone else did. Later tonight she could fantasize about Liam’s hands caressing the ice while she brought herself to climax. All alone. Again. Not that things would be any different if she ran into Liam. It’s not as though he’d shove her up against the wall of the freezer and yank down her jeans, thrust his hand between her legs and -Her thoughts scattered as she finally made her way around the sculpture. A gasp escaped her throat. She stared in mute awe, knowing her jaw was hanging open but unable to close it. It was breathtaking. No, Elle corrected herself, he was breathtaking. She’d expected another one of Liam’s signature couple poses. Instead, he’d sculpted a man. A fully naked man who towered over her 5’3” frame by at least a foot, his head almost brushing the ceiling. His arms were slightly outstretched, as though inviting her to step within the circle of his embrace. Elle’s breath halted in her throat. Her heart hammered hard against her ribcage. Another step closer and she’d ruin it. Her feet felt glued to the ground. She didn’t dare breathe as she waited to make sure she’d stopped far enough away. When she was confident her proximity hadn’t messed with the ice, Elle forced herself to look again, slower this time, starting from the bottom. The bulb swayed slightly above her head, scattering its muted neon glow on the crystalline ice, revealing
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the perfection of Liam’s strokes and emphasizing the firm, hard lines of the perfect masculine body. Her gaze caressed the sculpture. She wished she could touch it, but she didn’t dare. Instead, she tried to content herself with studying the sinewy curve of the man’s calves, his knees, his thick, muscular thighs -- and came to an abrupt halt on his erect cock. She gulped hard. The shaft was perfect, long and thick and hard, curving upward slightly as though leaning in to kiss the man’s perfectly sculpted abs. She could even make out small, ropy veins traveling along the underside of the impressive rod. The bulbous head was no less striking. Even the tiny slit had been lovingly chiseled, making it appear as though a drop of moisture glistened in the small groove. Taut, heavy balls hung down from the base of the shaft. If she peered closely enough, Elle could even make out the thin etchings of pubic hair marring the globular surface. She whimpered, giving in to the inescapable fact that her lust had blossomed a hundred fold in the past five minutes. Now hopelessly wet, Elle felt her panties sticking to the folds of her pussy. Her clit throbbed as she stared with unguarded fascination. She inched a little closer and licked her suddenly dry lips. Just one touch… that’s all she wanted. One tiny, insignificant sweep of her fingertip across that luscious cockhead. Then she’d be gone. At home, she’d extend this fantasy. She’d picture herself shedding her clothes, climbing on the sculpture, wrapping her legs around the sculpture’s lean waist and positioning her pussy just over the tip of that spectacular icy shaft. She’d slide down on it, inch by inch, feeding the thick length into her hot channel, feeling her cunt stretch to accommodate the intrusion. Eyelashes fluttering, she reached out, her hand already tingling with anticipation.
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The tip of her index finger connected with the head of the sculpture’s cock and a jolt of electricity shot up her arm. She gasped, feeling the rippling effects of that touch slither across the surface of her skin. Need burrowed deep in her pussy, spreading outward and up toward her belly. Her entire body hummed with awareness. Elle’s head rolled back on her shoulders and she looked up, past the perfectly sculpted chest, the chiseled jaw, the lean cheeks -- and into a pair of sparkling blue eyes. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. Her knees buckled at the raw power and intensity she saw in those eyes. To steady herself, she wrapped her hand around the slick shaft. Cold numbed her palm. She tightened her grip and stroked the length of the sculpture’s cock, giving herself over to the carnal caress as she gazed into those depthless, glassy orbs. One stroke. Two. Three. The first time the ice man’s cock twitched in her hand, she thought she’d imagined it. The second time, it cracked the ice.
Chapter Three Liquid fire flooded every nerve ending in Liam’s body. The numbness enveloping him shattered in the span of a heartbeat. He gasped as cold air once again flowed through his lungs, sending slivers of pain into his ribcage. The unforgiving ice encasing his body began to fracture and snap. He shifted, muscles aching to be free of his glacial prison. Chaos raced through his brain as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Memories came flooding back on a wave of anxiety. He remembered shedding his clothes in a corner of the freezer and giving himself over to the block of ice before him. For years, he’d struggled to conquer the one medium that had remained a mystery to him. Metal, wood, marble -- they’d all bent to his will. Ice should have been child’s play. It wasn’t. He’d ruined countless eight foot, 7800-pound blocks in his attempts to master the solid, glassy surface. Tonight, he’d realized that whatever magic helped him shape the other mediums would need to be amplified to work on ice. Suddenly, it all seemed so simple. All he had to do was give himself over to the magic of creation. After stripping down, he’d offered himself to the monstrous block, body and soul. The solid, crystalline form had accepted his offering. He should still be there, encased in his masterpiece. So why wasn’t he? Something hot stroked his cock. Flames licked between his legs, heating his balls, chasing the paralyzing cold from his groin. He groaned, but the sound was lost inside a frigid mask of ice. When he thrust his hips, the glacial bonds surrounding his waist shattered and fell away. Some of the
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feeling in his right hand returned, sending pins and needles to dance across his palm. He fisted his fingers. The ice cracked, falling away like so much dust. Someone was in the room. A woman. He squinted in an attempt to see her better, but she appeared fuzzy when viewed through the thin film of ice frosted over his eyes. He could make out the silhouette of black curls tumbling over shoulders covered by a green blouse. Red lips dominated an oval face. Full breasts and a narrow waist highlighted a slender body. Beyond that, she remained distorted and much too far away. The inferno raging across the surface of his skin made quick work of the ice. Hard chunks fell away in pieces, disintegrating when the fragments hit the ground. The rest melted against his flesh, leaving him drenched from head to toe. Immersed in the dazed numbness that had overcome him when he’d given himself over to the frozen medium, Liam hadn’t realized the ice had been holding him up. When enough of it fell away, his limbs quivered. He fought to remain standing, but failed. He pitched forward, tumbling straight into the woman no doubt responsible for his early awakening. She cried out. The sweet, crystalline sound echoed through the frozen chamber. His weight propelled her backward. She lost her balance. Liam’s hand flew up to cradle her head a split-second before they hit the ground together. Pain shot through his knuckles but it barely registered before other sensations took over. Scorching heat mixed with molten arousal to tear through him and mess with his already addled mind. Lush curves molded to his frame. The woman’s chest rose and fell with the force of her breathing, wet clothes sticking to her as water dripped off him. Lifting himself on his elbows, Liam blinked the remaining moisture out of his eyes. Her curls were black, he realized now that he could really see her, dark as midnight. The red lips were natural, not caked with lipstick. Her skin was flawless, her cheeks high, her nose small and slightly upturned. And the way she looked at him with a combination of shock and raw arousal made his balls draw up tightly against the base of his shaft.
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Holy hell. The woman was a walking wet dream. “Liam.” She swept her fingertips across the ridge of his brow. Her touch left behind a trail of heat that lingered and danced through his temple, down his cheek, over his lips. “You,” he murmured, his mouth tingling with the need to press his lips down on hers. “You’re hot.” She giggled. To his surprise, her amusement sounded genuine and oddly familiar. “Thank you.” He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.” Her eyebrows shot up. The smile disappeared. “No.” He grimaced. “That’s not right, either. You are… hot.” To prove it, he ground his hips, settling himself deeper between her thighs. His cock was hard as ice, despite the fire that raged wildly in his groin. Steam rose around them, spiraling from every juncture where their bodies pressed against each other. “My body temperature.” She drew in a deep breath and wrinkled her nose. Her plump lower lip quivered. “I’m sorry I ruined your sculpture.” The unexpected sight of her remorse stripped the last remnants of Liam’s confusion. For the first time since breaking through the frozen barrier, his head felt clear, the muddy turmoil giving way to calm logic. She had, in fact, ruined his sculpture. Considering how badly he’d wanted to prove to himself and the world at large he truly was “The Medium Master,” that alone should have made him livid. There was no way he could recreate the magical experience and have another sculpture ready for the competition tomorrow. Yet if she hadn’t come along, would he have been able to free himself on his own? He didn’t know, and the possibility of melting away like so much slush water made the blood drain from his face. Burying his fingers in his savior’s hair, Liam tipped her head up so she’d look into his eyes. She let out a small squeak of surprise. Liam frowned as he peered at her. “I know you.”
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She nodded, her chin moving just slightly toward her chest. “Elle. History. Eleventh grade.” Liam’s heart lurched into his throat. He sank his teeth into his lower lip as he studied the slope of her face, the angle of her nose, the curve of those full lips. God… could it be? He’d long ago forced all memories of high school out of his mind. He’d been too shy then, too awkward to fit in with the cool kids. And later, too consumed by his art. He’d felt like an outcast the entire time he’d attended Washington High. Blackhawk High now. Funny, how things changed. And odder still how much they stayed the same. Dipping his head, he brushed his lips across Elle’s in a feather-light kiss. “I remember you,” he whispered. “You sat two rows across from me and wore the sexiest knee-high socks I’d ever seen.” Her shocked gasp vibrated through his chest. Her lips parted, glistening wetly, inviting him to capture her mouth with his. She opened to him eagerly, swiping the tip of her hot tongue across his when he delved inside. The welcoming stroke made his cock twitch. The heat pouring off Elle’s body intensified, culminating in the rampant flames surging between her thighs. Even through her jeans, the sultry warmth lapped at his bare, straining cock. God, was she just as hot on the inside? Liam groaned inside her mouth. Molten lava churned in his sac, causing his groin to pound with incessant need. The contrast between the ice that had dominated his body and the heat raging through the woman trapped beneath him made it hard to breathe. He trailed kisses across her chin, down to the column of her throat. His lips felt warm against her skin, feverishly so. He flicked his tongue across the hollow at the base of her throat, tasting the faint flavor of sweat mixed with her natural aroma. Elle arched her back and gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his flesh. “You’re not what I expected.”
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Liam flicked the top button of her blouse, revealing a perfect indentation leading to the valley of her cleavage. “You’ve thought of me, then?” “Yes,” she whispered, so softly he had to strain to hear her. “Often.” Liam’s pulse raced. Knowing she’d fantasized about him thrilled him to the core. He made short work of the remaining buttons and pushed the soft cotton to either side of her luscious breasts. The full mounds peeked from a cotton bra, which, thankfully, snapped closed in the front. With a deft flick of the fingers, he freed her breasts and lowered his mouth to swipe at a pebbled nipple. Elle lifted her hips, rubbing her mound against Liam’s straining erection. “You never thought of me, though, did you, Mr. Famous?” She teased him. He could hear it in her husky voice. God… She had no idea. Cupping her breasts in both hands, he skimmed the tip of his thumbs across her nipples, then pinched them both, drawing a startled gasp from her throat. He grinned at the sound of her eager desire. He’d had many muses over the years, women whose lush bodies had enticed him to immortalize them in stone, wood or various other mediums. Elle Sutcliffe had been his first. It was because of her he’d taken up sculpting. The knee-high stockings she wore with mini-skirts used to make it impossible for him to concentrate on anything but imagining what those smooth, long legs would feel like wrapped around his waist. The only way to relieve the ravaging effects of teenage hormones had been to turn his focus on something equally as enthralling. He’d found his release -- literally -when he came all over the wooden log his parents had brought inside to toss in the fireplace. He still remembered the way his erection had stabbed the air while he thought of her. The arc of hot semen spurting from his cock flew through the air to land on the unmarred wood. It dripped down the length of the dark log, and at that moment something had triggered inside him, something that had been dormant and might have stayed that way forever if Elle Sutcliffe’s never-ending legs hadn’t awakened it.
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He still didn’t really know how it worked. He only knew that his cum made the medium come alive. It bonded them -- man and material -- making them fully aware of one another. After that, he had little control over the end result. The medium he worked with guided him as much as his need for the object of his desire did. That night, he’d used his father’s Swiss Army knife to sculpt Elle and her long legs as they wrapped around him. To this day, that sculpture sat on a shelf in his bedroom, meant to serve as a reminder of the woman who’d given him the most precious gift of all. Yet he was ashamed to admit he’d forgotten her name. Hell, he’d become so involved in his career and the fame it brought him that he’d forgotten her. “Those legs of yours were never far from my thoughts,” he whispered before pressing his lips to her dark areola. At least that was true, but he owed her more. So much more. Her moan fanned the flames raging through him. It was time he thanked Elle Sutcliffe properly.
Chapter Four If she didn’t come soon, Elle was sure she’d spontaneously combust. There were plenty of urban legends about people who did just that, and most of them weren’t hurtling head-first toward an explosive orgasm. Liam’s tongue teased her nipple, drawing moist circles around the puckered skin. He nipped the tight bud between his teeth and bit down sharply before lapping the sting away. Elle groaned and tangled her fingers in his shoulder-length hair. Water beaded on the strands, but it wouldn’t be long before it dried completely if she kept touching it. Another perk of her high body temperature -- she never needed a blow-dryer. Delicious sensations sizzled Elle’s senses. Liam’s exquisite nipple torture continued for what felt like eternity before he moved on to the other breast, ensuring the endless stream of erotic impulses never ceased. She opened her mouth to beg him to end the torment, but the plea on the tip of her tongue morphed into a whimper when his mouth finally abandoned her breast. His tongue drifted along the center of her abdomen, dipping into her navel before reaching the top of her jeans. He paused just long enough to unsnap them and lower the zipper before yanking on her boots, tugging the whole mess off her legs and tossing everything toward the far wall. Elle’s gaze followed the path of her jeans as they soared through the air to land on top of another mound of clothes. Liam’s clothes, she guessed. She’d been so enthralled by the sculpture she hadn’t paid any attention to the floor when she’d walked in.
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A thousand questions swam through her mind, but it was almost impossible to make sense of them when Liam insisted on parting her pussy lips with his thumbs and blowing a cool stream of air over her flushed labia. “How --” She gasped as he swept the tip of his tongue along the inner seam of her thigh. “How did you get inside the ice?” He lifted his head. Light from the overhead bulb spilled over his now dry skin and scattered golden highlights in his damp hair. “It’s easy to slip inside something if you want it bad enough.” To demonstrate, he nudged the tip of his finger along her slit. Elle’s inner walls fluttered, her channel desperate to be filled. With slow, gentle strokes, he stoked the fire in her cunt as though he had all the time in the world. His breath tickled her pussy. “Beautiful.” “Please,” Elle begged, lifting her legs so that her ankles were tucked in close to her ass. She felt open and exposed. And much too empty. Liam circled her clit with his index finger. The little nub ached, eager for release. He pinched it gently and she whimpered, sweat trickling down her brow. At last, he lowered his mouth to the seam of her pussy. His tongue delved within her folds, impossibly cold in contrast to her scorching nether lips. He kissed her, openmouthed, lingering on the entrance to her channel, laving her cunt in leisurely, torturous circles. Every muscle in Elle’s body tightened in response, quivering with pent-up need. When Liam pulled away, she nearly sobbed. His fingers replaced his mouth. Two of them, she thought through a haze of euphoria. She arched her back and he met her halfway, thrusting inside her body. Elle writhed while Liam finger-fucked her with slow, steady strokes. His tongue danced across her labia. He pulled a plump fold between his lips and sucked hard, sending a stream of raw sensation to blaze in her cunt.
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And then, miraculously, he lapped at her clit. One stroke, two, three, and she was flying, the intensity of her release searing a scorching path outward to every nerve ending, until each cell in her body shuddered in sheer erotic delight. He continued licking her, cleaning up her cream, gently bringing her back to Earth as she rode the aftermath of her orgasm. Her thighs trembled, brushing against his ears with each delicious wave of ecstasy. When he rose from between her legs, it was to stand to his full height, one hand clamped around that beautiful cock she’d only glimpsed through a thick barrier of ice. Elle licked her lips, eager for a taste of the broad, purple head. When Liam offered his hand to help her up, she took it. Rather than rising to her feet, she stopped halfway and dropped to her knees, then looked up into those piercing eyes. “Getting inside the ice was a neat trick. Getting inside me… well, that’s going to take a little more tenacity. Think you’ve got what it takes?”
Chapter Five Liam would have stood on his head and recited the alphabet backward if that’s what it took to get inside Elle. Licking her sexy little pussy, hearing her soft whimpers and lapping up every last drop of her cream had turned his balls blue. And now she was going to prolong the agony? He growled between clenched teeth. “Baby, when we’re done here, you and I are going back to my hotel. I’m going to fuck you senseless until the sun comes up.” Her beautiful brown eyes widened, lust glazing their dark depths. “You’re used to getting exactly what you want, aren’t you?” Her mouth was so close to the tip of his cock, he could feel her hot breath streaming across the bead of pre-cum that had gathered at the slit. He had a sudden vision of yanking her head back and thrusting his shaft between those full, red lips. Struggling to keep his cock from erupting at the flood of sensation the image caused, he merely grunted. Her fingers brushed the delicate skin at the base of his shaft. The jolt in his cock nearly made him stagger. “What is it you want, Liam? Really?” “You.” She cupped his sac in the palm of her hand, pushing his balls upward, caressing them as she blew across the tip of his cock. The muscles in his legs weakened, threatening to give out. “Fuck!” You. Fuck. Oh yeah. Real coherent, Blackhawk. The woman had robbed him of his wits. He thought he had magic in his release? Ha! The moment she came on his tongue he’d lost the ability to reason.
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Christmas Carol: Fire and Ice
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“You won’t be able to hold back if I take you in my mouth, will you?” Damn, she sounded so proud of herself. He wanted to prove her wrong, but he knew the moment her scorching tongue seared his cock, he’d give in to the agony streaming through his balls and flood her throat with his seed. He wanted to come more than anything. Well, almost more than anything. He wanted to bury his cock inside her hot, tight pussy more. Growling for a second time -- she’d reduced him to caveman speak, for God’s sake! -- Liam grabbed her upper arm and yanked her to her feet. Her smug smile disappeared. He kissed her once, hard, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth, pushing his erection against her belly and grinding it there for a moment before forcing himself to pull away. Before she could react, he spun her around, pushed her against the wall and spread her legs apart with his foot. Elle chuckled, a hoarse, sexy laugh that echoed through the room. Thrusting her ass out toward him so he could get a good look at the pink, swollen folds of her pussy, she splayed her palms against the wall. An hour ago, she might have gotten frostbite from that move. Now, the steamy air in the sealed “freezer” made the place feel more like a sauna. She wiggled her perfect ass, teasing him mercilessly. “Is this what you want?” “Trust me, Elle,” he said, his voice husky and raw. “This is only the beginning.” She sucked in a breath as he gripped her hips and positioned his cock at the entrance to her pussy. “You promise?” The vulnerability in her voice nearly made him stagger. Gone was the teasing, sexy vixen who’d nearly brought him to his knees. Now she was simply Elle… wonderful, sexy, vibrant Elle. He understood exactly what those two little words meant. I want you. And not just for tonight.
Lacey Savage
Christmas Carol: Fire and Ice
- 25 -
Liam’s throat constricted. He’d been so busy chasing fame he’d given no thought to a relationship. He simply hadn’t had the time. Or, truth be told, the inclination. His art depended on his ability to lust after someone hard enough to create her out of his fantasies and then sculpt her as he pictured them together, their bodies coming together as one. Until tonight, he hadn’t met anyone who’d aroused him enough to become his permanent muse. Everything about Elle was different. It wasn’t just the heat cascading off her sexy little body that had him struggling to make sense of his emotions. It was the way she looked at him, ready to trust him with her heart. Could he take the gift she offered? Or would the ice that had been crystallizing in his soul as he’d chased fame and fortune end up destroying the simmering passion that made her who she was? “Oh, the hell with this!” Elle shoved hard against him. His cock slammed home, ripping a raspy cry from the bottom of his soul. Her rounded ass caressed his abdomen as the walls of her pussy gripped him, squeezing down, trapping him in a molten vise of pure, heady passion. Her curls cascaded around her shoulders and across the fabric of her shirt, which still covered her back. She writhed in ecstasy, setting the rhythm, fucking him in earnest. He could barely think straight. Leaning across her back, he reached around her and pinched a taut nipple. She shuddered around him, and he knew she was as close as he was. She’d teased him, making him think he was the only one who could barely hold back. He might have even believed her, if she hadn’t shown him how urgently she needed him, too. His body hummed with arousal. She’d asked him for more than he’d thought he could give. But right now, with his cock buried deep in her incredible pussy, he wanted to promise her the world.
Lacey Savage
Christmas Carol: Fire and Ice
- 26 -
He drew his lower lip between his teeth and bit down hard. The metallic taste of blood flooded his senses, keeping him grounded. He wouldn’t make promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. Her cunt squeezed around him. Her hips undulated with feminine grace as she fucked him fiercely. His smooth thrusts met hers, burying his cock deep in her pussy with every stroke. Her breasts bounced in his palms, hot and heavy, incredibly responsive to his ministrations. The tide of warmth she’d poured over him grew to a raging, molten need. She seemed to sense it and sped up, her folds kissing his balls with every hungry stroke. He squeezed both nipples, tweaking them, pulling just hard enough to get a reaction. And God, did he ever. Elle came with a scream. Her cunt shuddered, spasming around him. The agony in his balls churned, need boiling within him, simmering over the top of his self-control. The seed spurt from his cock with the blazing force of a lightning bolt. It scorched him, adding another dimension to the delicious release. His shaft pulsed forever, streaming his seed, sending it deep inside Elle’s channel. Gasping, Liam leaned his forehead against her shoulder. His cock twitched, still coming way past the point he thought it should have stopped. Elle’s back heaved with the force of her ragged breathing. When he could trust himself to speak, he brushed the mass of curls away from her throat and pressed a kiss to the sweat-slicked skin. “What do you do, Elle? For a living, I mean.” She turned her head and regarded him with dark, unreadable eyes. “Do you really care? You’ll be gone tomorrow. Maybe it’s better if we don’t share too much.” His heart clenched. Did she really think him so cold? “Better? Or easier?” She shrugged and tried to pull away. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her tightly to him.
Lacey Savage
Christmas Carol: Fire and Ice
- 27 -
Belatedly, he realized his erection hadn’t waned, even after that breathtaking orgasm. Before he could marvel at that, another truth suddenly drove the air from his lungs. Excitement zinged through him. “Yes.” He caressed her cheek and turned her face until their lips were only a breath apart. “Yes, I care. And yes I promise… this is only the beginning.” Her slick pussy fluttered around his shaft. A frown marred her lovely face. “I don’t --” “You’re my muse, Elle.” It should have sounded corny. Stupid. It didn’t. Not to him. Not when it felt so right. She rolled her eyes. Or rather, she tried to, but her gaze stuck on something on the ceiling. An uneven chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh. Liam frowned. He’d confessed his deepest, most intimate feelings and she laughed at him? Sure she liked to tease, but this was too much, even for her. “What’s so funny?” Still chuckling, Elle pointed a slender finger at the ceiling. Liam followed her gaze. For a moment, he had no idea what he was looking at. Then he saw it. The crusty ice that had probably been forming in the freezer for years had been melting steadily since Elle’s arrival. Now, the coarse sheet of ice had formed grooves, hills, and valleys as it defrosted. And right above their heads, it had formed an icicle. Only rather than being long and thin, this one hung in the perfect shape of a sprig of mistletoe --leaves, berries and all. Before he could even consider the implications of what that might mean, Elle kissed him, stunning him out of his reverie. Her tongue traced his lips and delved inside to twine with his. Loathe to pull his cock from her body, but wanting desperately to hold her in his arms, he shifted until his rod slipped out, then gathered her to him. She wrapped her arms around him, her breasts flush against his chest. “Someone once told me teenage crushes never amount to anything.”
Lacey Savage
Christmas Carol: Fire and Ice
- 28 -
The mere proximity of her sent waves of rippling lust through his body. “She lied.” Elle’s full lips curved into a brilliant smile. “I’ll be damned. Ricki’s probably getting engaged tonight after all.” “You think we’ll be invited to the wedding?” She smoothed a lock of hair away from his brow. “Most definitely. Though knowing Ricki, she’ll probably make you sculpt something out of frozen yogurt as a wedding gift.” He glanced up at the mistletoe. Grinning, he bent down, swept one arm under her knees and lifted her off the ground. “I might need your help with that one.” She giggled and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “You know what else?” The sheer joy etched upon her features made his heart skip a beat. “What, beautiful?” She wiggled her bare toes. “Waiting for Prince Charming to sweep a girl off her feet isn’t such a bad idea, either.”
Lacey Savage Award-winning author Lacey Savage loves to write about her dreams -- or more specifically, she loves to breathe life into her steamy fantasies (and she’s got plenty!). She pens erotic tales of true love and mythical destiny, peopled with strong alpha heroes and feisty heroines. A hopeless romantic, Lacey loves writing about the intimate, sensual side of relationships. She currently resides in Ottawa, Canada, with her loving husband and their mischievous cat. You can learn more about Lacey by visiting her website
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