Frost (Queens of Hell Book 1)

by Liza James

  “It sounds like you’re in love, Naamie. Not Fated,” Eisheth quips skeptically.

  I narrow my hard eyes at her, not in the mood for any kind of arrogant counters. “It’s more than that. I wouldn’t become physically ill at fucking someone else. Or feeding from someone I’ve tasted countless times now. Especially my most recent submissive.” I close my eyes, the vision of Skilla easily springing to mind as I feel for her. We aren’t even bonded through blood yet, and I can sense her anywhere in the Kingdom. It’s how I found her so easily sneaking around that first night she was here. It’s how I found her at her home after the club, how I’ve been able to trace her whereabouts in only vague sensations and a muted draw to her being. “I’ve located her without knowing where she is, her blood practically sings when I’m near her. And this morning, in the breakfast hall, the ways we both physically responded to each other is completely unexplainable to that degree.”

  We all fall silent, and I can tell neither of them wants to believe this. Because if it’s true, if I am Fated to Skilla, then that opens possibilities for the rest of them.

  And shatters memories regarding Aggie the decisions she’s made in the past.

  “It’s in my blood, in my flesh, sisters. I can feel her everywhere. I’m tethered to her unlike anyone else. I need her, in a different way than I’ve ever known. I had to find her that night and bring her back, and I justified it for you.” I look pointedly at Lilith, “And maybe that’s still possible. Maybe we can find a way to use her blood for your—” I halt my words, an intrinsic possessive energy frantically bursting in my chest and begging me not to offer such things.

  I’d kill her.

  My own sister.

  For a girl who wants nothing to do with me.

  I wake with a startle, launching up in the darkness of my room as my eyes fly open wide and I search for what I’m feeling.

  Her.

  I can feel her, somehow. In unexplainable ways, I know she’s nearby. But everything surrounds in a black abyss, absolutely no light leaks in from the window tonight, or under my door from the common area. My hands pat around my bed, I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but anything to offer some sense of relative surroundings.

  “Where are you?” I mutter under my breath, almost not believing what my gut instinct is trying to tell me.

  But it’s in the very next moment I notice the thin, iridescent layer of frost slowly trailing from door and across my floor. It moves like a pathway, inching closer and closer until it’s woven around my bed toward the end. I track it intensely, my heart hammering at the sight as I feel the way the air around us drops several degrees in her familiar wake.

  Why is that so comforting to me? Why am I always so drawn here?

  She doesn’t speak however, and I can vaguely make out the silhouette of her form hovering over the end of my bed. I sit up on my knees, without even realizing what exactly I’m down, I lean back and lift my hands behind my head, lacing my fingers against my hair. My heart pounds, hammering and hammering away at a rhythm that should probably kill me with its power and speed.

  Instead, it wakes me up inside, with the cold air blowing across my body and stiffening my nipples at the presence of her. Suddenly, her eyes spark in the darkness as she watches me. Those electric blue irises glowing so brightly in the middle of the night. My body physically and intrinsically responds to her, entranced in ways I don’t fully understand.

  My vision clears despite everything that happened earlier. I’m far more aware than I was before, noticing little details of her movements as I watch her, the small ways my body automatically seeks out hers and the moments I catch myself inwardly begging for her to touch me.

  Even after watching her with Brielle earlier.

  I must be fucked in the head.

  How am I going to escape now? Things feel so muddy all of a sudden. The right answers are feeling wrong and the wrong decisions are feeling so tempting and right.

  “Are you not going to speak to me now?” I caution, glaring at her still frame as she watches me. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t show any kind of acknowledgement in the slightest. Frustration peaks in my chest and I drop my hands from behind my head and down to my sides. “Really? Do you even understand the damage you cause?” I tilt my head to the side and watch as the glimmer in her eyes darkens into something dangerous, and I feel a shift in the tension between us.

  Push her farther.

  The words play in my mind like a game, see how far I can take her before she snaps and acknowledges whatever this is. I glide forward, slowly placing my hands on the bed as I move onto my knees. The thin tank top and sleep shorts I changed into hang loosely from my body as I crawl toward her, and I tilt my chin up as my eyes meet hers while she looks down on me.

  She’s looking down at me. Strangely, my skin heats at the sight of that. My instincts are telling me I’ve done something wrong, been bad in a way that has her ready to punish me. I think back to our last night together, remembering the ways she dragged those leather strips across my bare skin and her fingers played with my pussy.

  Her shoulders square against my form, her small, perfectly round tits giving way to her narrow waist before it blooms just slightly over her hips. Her hands clench tightly into fists at her side remain unmoving, even with every stride I take toward her.

  “Does this mean nothing to you?” I whisper, wishing I could reach out and touch her skin. My body still aches in her presence, sore and needy from every unreleased orgasm and pained touch she’s given me.

  “You mean nothing to me.”

  Words. Finally. But they sink through my skin and infect my blood in sharper ways than I anticipated.

  She’s lying though. I want to say I can feel it, there’s no way we hold this tension, this much of a powerful pull toward each other and it mean nothing to her.

  Unless this is how it always is here…

  “You’re lying,” I falter, hoping that if I can raise a reaction out of her—she’ll touch me. Help me release in the ways I’m so desperate to. It’s pathetic, really. Succumbing to this toxic interaction so I can come. But I shake the thought away and let go of it, because I’m tired of fighting every moment of every day here.

  “Am I?” Her chin tilts low as I come up to her directly, my eyes level with her stomach until I dare meet her icy gaze. “I’m surrounded by women who want to fuck me, who want to feed me.” Her fingers lift to my chin, her thumb grazing across my lower lip as she tugs it down just slightly before slipping inside my mouth and over my tongue. She crouches down so that her eyes are directly across my mine, her face only inches away as her cold breath blows across my achy skin. “Good girls who spread their legs for me.”

  Fuck. Her words are silky smooth, low and rich and intoxicating even as she speaks about someone else. I shouldn’t be so turned on by this, but I am, and I find myself sliding my thighs together in order to find some kind of relief. She shifts her hand so that she’s sliding to fingers into my mouth now, her other hand gripping my jaw and tilting my head up as she drags me closer to her chest. “Why would I need anything from you when I can get it so fucking good, from someone else?” She shoves her fingers to the back of my throat and I gag around her touch. She pulls out and pushes back again, until my hands are wrapping around her wrists and I’m gasping for breath.

  “You want to fuck me though,” I bite out, the brat in me rearing her head as I fall into this dynamic. God, I’m so fucking wet and I’m hoping to all Hell I say the right things in order to keep this going.

  She scoffs, loudly, an arrogant smile pulling across her face before she roughly shoves me back and I fall against the bed. She climbs on top of me, her towering frame elicits washes of fear as I scramble back in order to keep my distance for a moment. But she’s far too quick, and I’m already trapped against the head of my bed as she shifts her knees so that one is tucked tightly in-between my thighs. “I don’t give a single shit about fucking you. Not when I can walk next door an
d find Brielle on those little knees waiting for me.” She pushes her knee forward and I can’t help but let my legs fall wider for her. My chest is heaving with every breath, my nipples tight and stiff as she scrapes across the fabric of my top. “She begs for it, you know?”

  “Begs you to fuck her?” I ask, swallowing the growing lump in my throat as Na’amah dips low and drags her nose over my ear. Her lips brush my skin, her breath blowing over me in ways that send goosebumps erupting along my flesh and shivers racing down my spine.

  “God, yes. She wants it so badly. Spreads those sweet thighs and touches herself while she waits for me.” Her hand slips over my shirt, her cold touch running over my heavy tits until she grips my tank and quickly yanks it up over my head. Her fingers return to my nipple, pulling and tugging while she rolls it in her touch. I moan out, trying to focus on steady breaths while I listen to her.

  “I don’t want you to touch her,” I whisper, tilting my head up as she sucks my ear between her lips then nips me with her teeth. There’s something so erotic about this and I wish I could logically explain why I’m so turned on. Listening to her talk about someone else, while she’s here with me, touching me.

  It’s power and humiliation all in one. I want to please her, I want to be the girl she chooses, and yet I want to hear about all the ways I wasn’t good enough before now.

  “Too late, my Kitten.” She drops her hand lower, moving between my legs as her lips glide down to my throat. Her fangs have dropped, because I feel the tips scraping along my flesh. I want her to bite me, right now, in this moment. I want her fingers inside of me while she takes and takes and takes whatever it is she fucking needs. “I’ve already fucked her, just like I’m about to do to you.” Her fingers slip under my shorts and over my pussy, my arousal slicking her touch as she circles my clit. “Will you moan for me like she does? Be a good girl for me and come when you’re told?”

  Suddenly, her other hand grips my hip as she yanks me down so that I’m lying flat on the bed below her. Her lips run over my jaw, her tongue sweeping out and licking my skin like she’s savoring my taste completely. I gasp and arch my back as she teases my core, slowly sliding down and back but pulling away just slightly as I roll my hips toward her touch.

  “Answer me,” she demands, stilling her touch completely as a whimper escapes my lips. My hands lift and run over her shoulders, realizing this is the first time I’ve ever truly felt her skin at my own desire.

  “Yes,” I whisper, letting my fingers slide to the back of her neck as I pull her against me again. I’m so needy, it’s ridiculous, and the answering scoff she supplies tells me I’m far too obvious about it.

  “Yes, what?” She presses, urging me to use the name I know she wants me to.

  But something has changed since our encounter earlier. An obscure realization and surrender have taken hold, and I don’t know if it’ll change. I’m not saying I won’t escape this place—I will. But tonight, I want to feel this. All of it. I want to meet her in this space and submit to her ownership.

  And I want to fucking come. For some reason, I hope I’ll have a clearer head once I do.

  Her lips hover over mine as she awaits my response, her hand pressed against my core in ways that have me nearly begging for more. I’m ready for her to slip inside me, and the nearness of her lips as me wishing they were on mine already.

  “Yes, Alca.” I speak the words on a hushed tone, my voice pitching higher than I anticipate but lost in complete surrender to her.

  She’s silent for a moment, her eyes searching mine in a way that has me suddenly confused and worried that I did something wrong. She watches me, her breaths coming quick and syncing with my own rhythm. The tension between us builds into a thicker wash of something resembling acceptance.

  Conceding. Falling. Yielding.

  As if she’s submitting to me in the same moment I am to her.

  “What?” I speak the word but don’t have a chance to finish the thought. Her lips crash onto mine as her fingers dive inside of me. I cry out in the same moment, stretching around her touch as her lips swallow my every sound. My fingers dig into her skin as I hold onto her tightly. She slides out of my core, circling over my clit and pinching it roughly before slipping back down and fucking me again. She moves deep and slow, working me higher and higher as my body moves with hers in unison.

  It’s fucking insane. All of this. The intensity of her lips moving over my mouth, her tongue crashing with my mine before her teeth bite my lower lip and she tugs harshly. I keep thinking she’ll draw blood, and god, I want her too. I’m willing to give her everything in this moment while she fucks me like she is.

  “You’re different,” she pulls back slightly, enough to have my hands falling to my sides as she moves back on her knees. Her words catch me off guard, and I shift up on my elbows while my gaze watches her every movement.

  She pulls out of me for a single moment in order to yank my shorts off my legs. She grips my thighs tightly, shoving them apart before her hand is back on my pussy again. Her touch is ice cold, and it’s now in this moment, as I’m watching everything so intently that I can literally see the electric blue glow of her hands coursing through my skin where she holds me.

  “Everything about you.” Her tone is heavy, as if she’s admitting something she shouldn’t. “But the second my sister found you at the club.” She pushes back inside me, and I suck in a deep breath before releasing a quiet moan. She’s so fucking deep, and her eyes are trained on the space between my legs while she moves inside me. “The second I scented your blood—I knew I had to taste you.”

  My head falls back uncontrollably and she picks up the pace. I swear my thighs feel as though they are trembling, my chest and skin slick with a heat that counters her ice tremendously. “I want you to,” I say quickly on breathy words and quiet pleas. “I want you to bite me.”

  She groans out as her fingers around my thigh tightens and she sits up and moves closer to me. She’s sliding in quicker now, slipping out to run over my clit before diving inside me with two fingers this time. But just as I tell her what I want from her, she drags her touch away and slaps her palm directly against my core. I cry out and launch upwards, her hand lunging toward my throat as she fiercely yanks me toward her. She’s towering over me, the pain of her grip lighting across my jaw in ways that make me ever wetter than I imagined possible. “Do not say that, again. Don’t fucking tempt me. You wouldn’t survive the fucking Bite now.”

  Anger pierces my gut and drowns my senses. “How do you know?” I grind back, pressing my hands against her chest as I try shoving her away. “You have no idea what I’ve been through. Or what I can and can’t fucking handle.” She doesn’t let me get away with this though, and I’m quickly shoved back against the bed when her mouth is barely an inch from my throat. She pins me underneath her with one hand securing my jaw in place and her knee pressed firmly against my thigh.

  “You’re pathetically easy to read, Skilla,” she whispers, her fangs now resting over my throat as I focus on the sting of those two points. My heart is racing in my chest, my forearms pressed tightly against her chest in what I’d like think is a barrier. But in actuality, she’s pinning me there as well, I’m completely at her mercy in more ways than one. “Especially after meeting your brother and seeing the sick, twisted ways he’s fought to control you. And the other girls, I can smell their scents on your skin. Lingering encounters of shallow, mediocre fucks staining your flesh.”

  I halt, my thoughts quickly spiraling through the idea that she knows who I’ve been with. What the hell? “You can smell them on me?” I counter, a sudden wash of disgust rolling through me at the reminder of those fucking moments.

  “Such a filthy girl.” Her fangs push deeper but don’t pierce my skin just yet. Her tongue slips out, the tip running over my flesh as her mouth drags lower. “I hate it. The idea that there was ever anyone before me.” These words are barely even a whisper, hardly audible enough for me to even
hear them but they consume me.

  She consumes me.

  Her mouth moves down to my chest, kissing over the swell of my breast before gliding even lower. My eyes watch her, lingering on the white strands of her hair braided back on top of her head. I want to see those eyes again, have them meet me in this secret and mysterious place we’re exploring together.

  Everything has shifted inside of me, between us. I don’t know what it is, but the energy here is intoxicating in a way that has me addicted to her presence.

  “What are you trying to say?” I ask her, hoping to breach whatever wall she has remaining here.

  She ignores me, her lips immediately moving over my stiff nipples as she sucks me into her mouth. I fall back again, arching my back, pressing my chest hard against her before looking up to watch again. Her tongue slips out and circles me, flicking over the tip before sucking me again and biting down with her teeth.

  Holy fuck, I can feel her fangs.

  Her head tilts up just briefly as I watch her lick me, and it’s in that moment I see the quick shine of her fangs in the darkness.

  Against my skin.

  Over my flesh.

  Scraping along my hard nipples and nearly drawing blood in every touch.

  “You’re so sexy on your back like this. Submitting for me, spreading those pretty legs for me.” She praises me, in a way she hasn’t done before and I unravel at the heated words. “Be a good girl and come for me, Kitten. Can you do that?”