Heat Stroke

I positioned myself between her legs. The visual contrast was a work of art, a study in violent opposites. Elsa was pure alabaster, a sculpture of white marble and blue veins, lying in a pool of her own melted magic. I was rough, scarred, and radiating a golden, solar haze. My cock stood painfully hard against her thigh, a rod of burning iron threatening to shatter a pane of glass.

I reached down and spread her labia. They were pale pink, almost translucent, and shivering. Her pussy was tight, a frozen lock that had never been touched, let alone opened. A puff of cold air actually ghosted against my tip as I lined up.

"Look at it," I ordered, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look down.

Elsa tried to squeeze her eyes shut, her face flushed a deep, feverish crimson. "I can't," she sobbed, her hips twitching on the melting ice. "It's too big. It's... it's a weapon."

"It's the key," I corrected. "And I'm unlocking you."

I pressed the head against her entrance. The heat transfer was immediate and shocking. The moisture on her entrance sizzled. Elsa threw her head back, her mouth opening in a silent scream as the tip pushed past the ring of muscle. "Hot!" she wailed, her fingers digging into the slush of the mattress. "It’s inside! It’s burning me from the inside!"

I didn't stop. I pushed forward, invading the sanctuary of the Eternal Winter. She was impossibly tight. Every inch was a battle against her frozen nature. I could feel her internal walls clamping down on me, icy and rigid, trying to freeze me out. But my heat was superior. As I sank deeper, I felt her flesh yield, softening, turning from ice to velvet.

I broke through her maidenhead with a wet, heavy tear. I buried myself to the hilt.

Elsa’s body bowed off the bed, her spine arching like a drawn bow. She let out a high, keening cry that harmonized with the wind howling outside. I held her there, impaled. We were locked together, my pelvis grinding against her pubic bone, my fingers intertwined with hers, pinning her onto the ice bed. The sensation was mind-numbing. Her insides were cool, a refreshing, tight grip that milked me with every pulse of her panic, while my cock acted as a heating rod, warming her womb from the center outward.

"Breathe, Queen," I snarled, watching the pleasure-pain wash over her face.

"I feel full," she gasped, tears streaming down her face to mix with the meltwater. "I feel... split open."

"You are."

I began to move. I withdrew slowly, feeling the friction of her tight, wet sheath dragging against every vein on my shaft. Then I drove back in. Schlick. The sound was obscene, wet, heavy, and loud in the cavernous room.

"Oh god," Elsa moaned, the pleasure finally overtaking the shock. Her legs, which had been stiff, suddenly spread wider, allowing me to enter even deeper. "More. I need... I need the heat."

I gave it to her. I picked up the pace. I pounded into her, merciless and demanding. Her pale tits bounced with every thrust, the nipples hard and dark purple, begging for attention. I reached down and squeezed one, kneading the soft flesh. Elsa bit her lip, looking down at herself. She saw my strong hand claiming her soft breast. She saw my thick cock disappearing into her pristine, pale cunt. She saw the steam rising from our joined groins.

It was perversion, but it was beautiful. The perfect corruption of royalty. The ice bed beneath us couldn't handle the combined heat of my magic and our friction. It began to melt rapidly. We were sinking into the mattress, creating a pool of warm water. We were literally fucking in a puddle of her own dissolved defenses.

"Say it," I commanded, grabbing her throat lightly, feeling her pulse hammer against my thumb. "Say you're melting."

"I'm melting!" she sobbed, her head thrashing from side to side, her wet hair plastering to her face. "I'm turning to water! I'm leaking everywhere!"

"You're not a Queen right now," I growled, bottoming out inside her, hitting her cervix with a **** that made her toes curl. "You're just a sheath for my fire."

"Yes!" she screamed, abandoning all dignity. "Just a sheath! Fill me! Burn me!"

She was no longer the ruler of Arendelle. She was a woman unraveling. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth hung open, drool and sweat mixing on her chin. She was a mess of sensations, hot, cold, full, empty, terrified, ecstatic. I drove into her harder, the smack-smack-smack of skin on wet skin echoing like applause in the empty palace. I was terraforming her soul, one thrust at a time.