"I've never..." he whispers, his voice full of amazement. "I've never been able to touch someone like this without harming them."
"Maybe you're not trying to harm me," I suggest, leaning into his touch. "Maybe that's the difference."
He looks stunned by this simple explanation. "I want to protect you," he admits, the words seeming to surprise even him. "Not since I can remember have I wanted to protect rather than frighten."
I don't have answers, only questions and a burning need that overshadows reason. I reach up, my hands finding the base of his antlers. They're cold but solid, somewhere between ice and crystal in texture. He makes a sound—something between a growl and a gasp—as my fingers explore their length.
"Sensitive?" I ask, a smile tugging at my lips despite the surreal situation.
"Yes." The word emerges as more growl than speech.
I trace the intricate branches, watching his expression shift between pleasure and what looks almost like pain. His handsslide from my face to my shoulders, down my arms, leaving frost patterns in their wake. Where his cold meets my warmth, steam rises in small wisps, like smoke signals between our bodies.
"This is dangerous," he says, but makes no move to pull away.
"I know." My hands return to his face, tracing the strange duality of skull mask and flesh beneath. "I don't care."
Something breaks in him at my words. With a sound that's barely human, he pulls me against him, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that should freeze me solid but instead ignites something primal. His lips are cold, yes, but not painfully so—and they warm quickly against mine. The contradiction is intoxicating.
His restraint shatters further. Hands that were careful now turn demanding, lifting me effortlessly to sit on the table's edge. Bowls clatter to the floor, forgotten. My legs part instinctively, allowing him to press closer. Through the thin fabric of my thermal underwear, I can feel the cold radiating from him, a delicious counterpoint to the heat building inside me.
I should be thinking of self-preservation. I should be questioning my sanity. Instead, I'm clinging to him, my hands exploring the impossible contours of his partially transformed body, learning the boundaries between human and other.
"You're sure?" he asks, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. Even in this moment of raw need, he's giving me a chance to reconsider.
"I've never been more sure of anything," I say, and it's true. Whatever madness has taken hold of me, I don't want it to end.
He lifts me again, carrying me the few steps to the bed. The furs welcome me, still warm despite the cabin's dropping temperature. He follows me down, his larger form caging mine with a predatory grace that should frighten me but only heightens my arousal.
His claws make short work of my thermal top, slicing through it with surgical precision. The cold air hits my exposed skin, followed immediately by the press of his body. Where we touch, frost forms and melts in continuous patterns, a visual representation of the clash between his nature and mine.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, watching the frost swirl across my skin. His touch traces the patterns, following them down my collarbone, between my breasts.
I arch into the contact, craving more despite the cold. My hands find his clothing—simple layers that part easily under eager fingers. Beneath, his skin is pale blue-white, frost patterns embedded in it like natural tattoos. I trace them, fascinated by how they seem to pulse and shift under my touch.
"More," I breathe, pulling him closer.
He doesn't need further encouragement. With swift, sure movements, he removes the last barriers between us. I should be cold, should be shivering, but heat builds within me, counteracting the winter he brings.
When he finally enters me, the shock of cold meeting heat tears a gasp from my throat. He fills me completely, the contrast of his icy hardness against my molten core creating sensations I never knew were possible. Where our bodies join, steam rises in wisps between us, physical proof of opposing elements colliding.
"You're burning me alive," he growls, his voice no longer even attempting to sound human. The words should be alarming, but his expression is pure ecstasy, as if the pain of my heat is the most exquisite pleasure he's ever known.
A sound erupts from his chest that's barely recognizable as speech—something between a roar and a growl, primal and possessive. His eyes flare with blue fire, pupils constricting to vertical slits that make him look utterly inhuman. The last vestiges of his careful control shatter like thin ice.
"Mine," he snarls, teeth elongating before my eyes into something sharper, more predatory. The word isn't even fully human anymore, more sound than language.
The transformation I witnessed earlier accelerates, his body shifting further from the human disguise he's maintained. His skin ripples as frost patterns emerge from within, no longer just surface decorations but part of his actual structure. The crystalline antlers expand dramatically, branching and rebranching until they form a massive crown that scrapes deep gouges in the ceiling.
With each powerful thrust, he seems to lose another piece of humanity. His movements become wilder, more instinctual—a creature of winter claiming a mate. His clawed hands grip my hips hard enough to mark, lifting me effortlessly to meet each driving thrust. The bed creaks dangerously beneath us, frost spreading through the wooden frame and threatening to shatter it.
I should be terrified. The being above me is no longer pretending to be human, no longer gentle or restrained. Yet fear is the furthest thing from my mind as I match his ferocity with my own, nails dragging down his back, leaving heated trails through the frost that covers him.
He responds with a feral sound of approval, head thrown back in abandon. The skull mask is fully formed now, his face a terrifying blend of deer and predator, beautiful in its otherworldliness. When he looks down at me again, those glowing eyes hold something ancient and possessive that makes my inner walls clench around him.
"Yes," I gasp, surprising myself with how much his monstrous transformation arouses rather than frightens me. "Don't hold back."
The permission unleashes something primal in him. He flips me suddenly, inhuman strength making it effortless. I findmyself on my hands and knees, his much larger form looming over my back. His chest against my spine radiates cold so intense it should be painful, but instead sends waves of tingling pleasure across my skin.
