The Fall Of Snow: Guard Your Heart

28. Twenty-Eight

Twenty-Eight

Slumber Party

T he sky glows violet amongst the creamy moon. The light reflecting off the snow illuminates the entire forest, making it appear dreamlike in the night. The crystal bulbs of ice on the tips of the branches sparkle like gems and the stars shine proud above our heads as we hike.

My toes are numb in my boots and the hot tea I packed along with us is long gone. Despite my better judgment, I find myself veering towards Huck with each step. I tell myself it’s to leech some of the heat that radiates from him and has nothing to do with just wanting to be near him. Huck has spoken only out of necessity, and it's been hours. Suffice it to say, it's going to be a long night.

Starting a fire is out of the question, drawing too much unwanted attention with the stakes as high as they are and the others are right. With Huck so near, it isn't necessary. He's like a walking sun, heating everything in his orbit. Plus, a fire would be like a glowing beacon for any nearby huntsman. That is exactly the kind of thing they're trained to look for. The only light within the dark cave is from a single burning lantern that was worth the risk to provide us with a bit of light in the darkness of the forest. We huddle inside the small cave with snow piled up at the mouth, hopefully concealing a bit of light. We've also draped a wool blanket near the entrance to act as a curtain. The cave is narrow but deep and I’m actually quite impressed. Out of all my makeshift homes, this one is in the top three.

While I hiked here in as many layers as I could find, Huck traveled comfortably in just his fighting leathers, no cloak or hat needed.

I'm glad for the lantern, with the benefits outweighing the burden of sitting in the pitch black of night with him. The unfortunate side is that the flickering glow from the flame illuminates and shadows all the right places in Huck's features, making him nearly irresistible. His lashes are so dark, it looks like coal rims his eyes.

Ugh. I could kick myself for being so easily moved. Not to mention the glow of his irises reminds me of our night at the bonfire.

That night feels like ages ago now. A distant memory that seems more and more like a dream at Huck's recent demeanor towards me.

He's staring at me now, the lantern flickering between us, and his eyes on me are unnerving. What does he want? I try to get lost in thought as I stare down at the orange flame encased in the glass walls of the lantern as I fiddle with my ring, but every time I glance up, his eyes are on me, staring intently. This time, his eyes dance with amusement, a smirk creeping up his face. He's toying with me.

"What?" I nearly lose my nerve.

"You know what." His voice is like honeyed syrup.

"Actually, I don't. Hence why I am asking." My voice rises, laced with irritation, only fueling his amusement. I stare back at him, eyes like slits. One of us will have to break eventually. He raises a brow at me, a challenge.

"Ugh, you make me crazy." Normally I would be embarrassed by my words, but his incessant stare is driving me mad.

"I could say the same of you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I think you know what it means." He leans back onto his elbow like he's shoving his comfort in my face as I squirm under his glare.

"Do you ever just come out and say what you mean?" I challenge. I'd be lying if I said I haven't dreamed of scenarios just like the one I find myself in now if I denied ever imagining how his hands would feel against my heated skin.

"Oh, you need me to say it?" He sits up, meeting my challenge. His eyes darken with something that makes my pulse race .

"You drive me mad. You make me hot. Just the way you look at me sends me spiraling. I've tried so hard to hate you, to resist the pull towards every part of you—" He stops, dropping his head and squeezing his eyes shut. When he opens them up again, his gaze makes my stomach flip.

"I've tried to hate you for making me weak with want, for filling my thoughts with how your mouth looks when your lips part for breath, for the way my body went into a frenzy at the thought of someone else touching you.” He drags a hand through his hair, frustrated. “I tried to hate you for making me feel. For making me yearn for your touch, like a starving man out of his mind." Huck bites his bottom lip, hesitant. His sharp teeth are a stark contrast to the soft curve of his mouth. "But I can't. Everything about you just makes me . . . need." The only way to describe how he speaks the last word is anguished. My mouth dries.

Suddenly, it has become entirely too hot in here.

Suddenly, I want to take back my question about just saying what he means.

Suddenly, his truth is too much to bear. I open my mouth just slightly, attempting to speak, to find something, anything to say back to him but I come up short. There is no quick remark or thought in my head beyond his lips. His tongue. His mouth on me.

Whatever spell he put me under worked. I am like putty in his hands, and I don't care. I rise to my knees, dropping the wool blanket behind me, not needing it any longer, and with it, I drop my shield—the thing that was guarding my heart. My walls melt in the heat of desire.

His eyes rise to meet mine as I hover over him, waiting for me to make my next move. A challenge. A plea . My trembling hand reaches out to touch his lips, my body no longer controlled by my mind but by instinct alone. By desire.

I brush his bottom lip with the pad of my thumb, feeling his breath come out shakily. As I place both hands on the front of his chest, I wonder if any part of him regrets what he said. Surely, he couldn't have known I would react like this. Surely, he was waiting for me to yell at him, smack him even. Anything but what I'm doing now.

I push him onto the floor of the cave, leaning into him, careful not to knock the lantern. His body is on fire and I revel in it. He looks surprised but intrigued, hungry. I straddle his hips as I hover over his body and look into his eyes. I want him to know my intentions. I want him to feel my power. His lips are parted and his eyes are heavy with desire.

Slowly, I lean closer to him, dropping my lips to his, the ends of my hair acting as a curtain of sorts, like the only thing in this world is him and me. The only sound is our beating hearts and heavy breaths. When I feel his hands slide up my outer thighs, my back, my neck, I press my lips into his letting the heat between us burn. He opens my mouth with his and our tongues collide. Our hands become feverish and greedy, feeling and grasping for more.

Huck laces his fingers through my hair, tugging my head to the side as his mouth trails my neck, tasting me. Devouring me. A moan escapes my swollen lips as heat pools in my low belly. I pull back to unravel his leathers and shirt, my fingers fumbling with the fabric in their hurry. He rips open my blouse, releasing the heat trapped within, his hands instantly on my bare skin, trailing over the curves of my body, memorizing every inch. I slip my hands under his shirt and my fingers travel up the rippling muscles of his stomach, his chest.

My fingers graze over the scattered hair before I rake them back down, finding the top of his pants. Before I have a chance to explore any further, Huck wraps his arm around my waist and flips us, laying me down beneath him. I pull his shirt over his head, and I swear steam rolls over his taut shoulders. The spark striker grazes my skin.

My mind spirals with a need for him that grows by the second. This man drives me mad and now all of these complicated feelings inside of me are swirling into a tornado of wild abandon.

No longer can I deny my pull towards him. I can't pretend it is just physical, not as he stares at me with eyes of longing. He kisses me with passion, claiming my mouth before his lips travel down my chest. He stops just below my navel, raising his head.

"Wrap your legs around my neck, Snowflake." His voice is near guttural, but for once, I don't mind the nickname. I hook my ankles around his neck and lift my hips towards him when his thumbs find the inside of my pants. He pulls them down with aching patience, his fingers trailing my bottom and the backs of my legs .

I unwrap my feet and he tosses my bottoms to the side before grabbing my right leg to rest on his shoulder. The other falls to the side and his fingers glide along my inner thigh. He kisses the inside of my ankle before bending forward, his heated body pressing against mine. His desire presses into my soft flesh, telling me how much his body wants me. I claw at his pants, needing to feel all of him. Needing him in his entirety. They slide down his muscled legs and when he presses his body against mine again, I sigh with pleasure.

He kisses me, so feather-light I ache for him everywhere. My body is on fire, and I wonder if his ability has somehow lit me from within. His hand finds its prize and I grind into his fingers fearlessly, needing more, needing so much more of him. I grab him in return, feeling the power within my grip and he groans. He is full and ready and wanting, as am I.

When his tongue traces down my body I tangle my fingers into his hair. My entire body pulses and aches with each passing moment and I cannot think. My breaths come in soft pants as he parts my flesh with his tongue, gliding along my center. I cry out from the contact, my back arching in response. More. I need more.

Huck teases me with lazy circles of his tongue before sucking and nipping at my core. Over and over again. Pressure builds deep within me and I see stars as he slides a finger in, working me over. The sensation is too much to bear. All I can feel, see, taste, smell, hear, is Huck as I climb a mountain of bliss. But before going over the edge, I pull him back up to me, needing all of him .

"I've been wanting this since the moment I met you," he whispers into my mouth.

Without another word, Huck sinks into me and I am lost, drowning in a sea of shooting stars. Every sense is ablaze and nothing, nothing , matters in this moment but him. But this. Not my mother, not my future, nothing but this. This feeling, this connection. This man.

I already know I am forever changed from this one moment in time. When we reach the brink and tumble off the edge, I know there is no coming back from this. My heart has been cracked open and will never again return to its original state.

I wake feeling cold, my mind still reeling from the night before. With my naked body wrapped in the thick blankets, I turn to find that I'm alone in the cave. I sit up, holding the blanket around my body as I look around the small space. Clothes are strewn around the cave and blankets cover the floor in heaps. My pack sits on the far end of the cave, so I decide to grab Huck's pack to look for the water skin.

Without Huck here, a coldness has settled into the cave and there is no way I am crawling out from under these blankets for a drink of water. I pull his pack towards me and peer inside. I rifle through searching for the water, finding a compass, a pocket knife, and a rolled parchment wrapped with string. Ruby red like my mother uses. My heart speeds as my mind goes to the unthinkable.

I shake my head. There's no way. He wouldn't.

But my hands pull the paper from the pack and unravel the red string binding it together. With shaking hands, I unroll the paper, and my heart sinks. Like an anchor at the bottom of the sea.

I'm staring back at my own face. Raven hair and a crimson pout. Printed on my mother's letterhead is a contract of an agreement of payment to the huntsman who returns with my cold dead heart. My mouth turns leaden, and I suddenly feel like trees are growing through my skull.

At the bottom of the contract, next to my mother's signature is Huck's, bold and undeniable. Like a nail in a coffin, the truth sinks in.

Huck is my huntsman.