Steam curls through the royal bath, the air heavy with lavender and the musk of our sweat as I straddle Kristoff in the marble tub, his thick c**k buried deep in my p***y, each thrust grinding my c**t against his pelvis. My ice-blue robe lies in tatters on the floor, my breasts bare, n*****s hard from the chill of my own magic.
The water laps at our hips, hot, but my ice tendrils coil around his wrists, pinning them to the tub’s edge, frost biting his skin. Anna’s chambers are just down the hall, her soft snores faint through the walls, and the thrill of f*****g her boyfriend so close to her makes my p***y drip, soaking his c**k.
I lean forward, biting his shoulder hard, tasting salt, and he groans, low and rough, hips bucking up to meet my rhythm.
“Quiet,” I hiss, conjuring an ice ga
