“I’m nervous, Jackie,” Queenie murmurs as I wash the last of the floral shampoo out of her long tresses.
She has a right to be, and that’s part of why I decided we should get ready together rather than allow her handmaidens to dress her for the event. The past two weeks have been a flurry of activity—literally for her as she continued assisting the royal holiday committee with making the current queen’s castle ready for the Yule ball. I, however, spent the bulk of my time working out the plans for the enormous distraction that will both allow us to escape and call attention to Chelle’s treachery publicly that the rest of the world can’t ignore. If I’m lucky, the Society may even step in to balance the scales and mete out justice, but given that Q’s sister is human and so is her populace, it’s unlikely.
I’ll have to leave her punishment and the restructuring of the Ice Kingdom to the fairytale coalition. I don’t trust them, of course, but I have few other options.
Resting my hand lightly on her waist, I brush my lips against the shell of her ear. “While you were on your best behavior with the queen’s guards, I was scheming, darling. I planned for every contingency, even the unlikely ones, but I agree—we can never be sure. The only thing we know for absolute certain is we are going to get the hell out of here and not look back. Right?”
Her head bobs, but I can feel the tension in her frame. Tonight is the biggest event of the season and her sister has been prancing all over the internet, preening about her triumphs. The current queen’s staff have rehearsed every single aspect of the evening from the entrance to the livestream, and our window of opportunity is quite narrow. If our distraction doesn’t draw attention away from the thrones, I won’t be able to whisk Queenie behind the curtains and lead her down to the tunnels where I’ve stashed our essential items. My plan has almost no margin for error, even with contingencies accounted for, and it’s not surprising her fear of her sister’s wrath has her quaking in her boots.
The contrast between this and the icy protector ready to hunt down my ex is astounding, but my girl contains multitudes, unlike her dimwitted sister.
“What if I help you relax, my love?” It’s not really a question; I know what my girl needs and right now, it’s focusing on something besides her fear.
“Yes, Madame,” she whispers. “What is your desire?”
I swear to fuck. I’ll never tire of the breathy way she says that shit. The first time made my cunt clench, and it still does years later. “On your knees.”
Queenie obeys immediately, turning to face me and dropping to the river rock floor without hesitation. I grin, backing up to sit on the built-in bench of our huge wet room. This design is one of my favorites in the entire castle because of the luxurious space and fixtures. Honestly, it feels like they made it for situations like this and I lean back against the wall, letting the rainfall shower head cascade my body with warm water as I watch her. My thighs spread, giving her a perfect view of my pussy while she sits quietly and waits for my commands.
“Good girl,” I murmur, and her skin flushes the gorgeous light pink I adore. Q most certainly has a praise kink and feeding it makes my body tingle in anticipation.
She rests her hands on her thighs, straightening her back so she’s positioned exactly as expected, and gives me a heavy lidded expression when she replies, “Thank you, Madame.”
Fuck, she’s hot. How did I ever think I was leaving this behind without a thought?
“Crawl to me.”
Her eyes sparkle as she moves to all fours, rolling her head in a circle to adjust her hair over the shoulders before she moves toward me slowly. My girl learned a while ago that I love when she prowls towards me like a big cat and her body moves through the water sinuously until she stops between my legs. She’s back in the preferred position instantly, looking up at me through her lashes. I can tell by the way her skin is getting pinker that she’s got to be dripping, but she doesn’t need me to simply get her off. Queenie’s anxiety will only be quelled by submitting to me before she comes, and I intend to give my love what she desperately desires.
Laying a palm on her head, I smile. “That’s my girl. You may taste me as a reward.”
Her face is between my thighs before I can blink and I groan darkly when an icy tongue swipes over my clit. When I glance down, her hands are gripping her own thighs tightly and I know she wants to touch me, but that’s not what I gave permission for her to do. I’ve never been a fan of bratty submissives—those who want to top from the bottom behave like adult children and nothing about their behavior is cute or attractive. In contrast, my perfect girl tracing her tongue around my lips to lap at my juices hungrily as my body shudders? That’s a thing of beauty brats can never achieve.
“You’re doing such a good job, darling. I’m so pleased.”
A whimper vibrates over my clit, and I press my head back against the hard rock. This is as much torture for me as it is for her, though I can certainly indulge my release whenever I choose. The emptiness inside of me is more than I can bear, though, so I reach down to yank her head up by the hair. Not hard, of course, but the semi-rough treatment has her eyes glazing over as she licks her lips.
“Yes, Madame?”
Son of a bitch.
The languid smile on my face spreads, and I growl a little. “Magical enhancements are allowed, baby. Make me come for you.”
As soon as I let go, she dives back into my cunt like she’s on a mission. Her tongue and teeth work over my clit until I shiver, and once I’m bucking against her soft mouth, the temperature lowers around us. Her magic swirls in the air as she creates the chilly toys I love so much. A cold, hard cock slides inside of me, contrasting with the heat of my pussy as she manipulates it to slide in and out of me slowly. I barely have time to adjust to the stretch of her icy dildo when I feel my ass stretch as well. Queenie suckles hard on my throbbing bud, alternating the motion of her toys in rhythm with her lips.
Once you’ve been fucked by the Ice Queen, the bar rises to the top of Mount Olympus.
“More,” I pant.
Q lifts her head for one moment, biting her lip as she smiles mischievously. A second icy assist pushes into my pussy and I gasp as the feeling of being filled to absolute maximum tips me over the edge into orgasm. My walls clench and my fingers grip the edge of the bench for purchase as I rocket through bliss. She’s never done that before, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t blowing the top of my fucking head off. I grunt out permission for her to come—something I knew she’s been holding until I give the word—and her soft, breathy moans vibrate over my sensitive flesh. It triggers another wave of pleasure and my hips arch off of the bench as I buck into her magical toys with renewed vigor.
Stars shoot in front of my eyes and I pant when I finally come down, muscles relaxing slowly. I swallow hard as Queenie’s magic recedes, leaving nothing but cold water running over my heated skin. This might have been the most intense session we’ve ever had, and I know it’s because I finally allowed her into my heart willingly. Every ounce of her submission and obedience is given out of love; it’s not a means to an end.
My traitorous brain drifts to the sexy pirates I saw in the tunnels, imagining how it would look if they’d joined us in this fun. I stiffen, feeling like a complete jackass for mini-fantasy, and small hands squeeze my thighs.
“Were you not satisfied?”
Barking a laugh, I shake my head as I gesture for my girl to rise from the floor. “Queenie, my love, you were perfect. My darling good girl did exactly as she was told, and now it’s time for me to take care of you.” Her smile is bright as I force myself to stand on wobbly legs, gathering the cloth and soap to wash us clean again as I hold her. “When you’re clean and relaxed, I’ll dry us and we will cuddle on the bed until it’s time to finish getting dressed.”
The look on her face makes my heart squeeze and I wing a prayer to gods I don’t believe in that I’ve created a scheme that will allow me to take care of her for the rest of our immortal lifespans.
* * *
As I finish the intricate braid, I smile at my girl in the mirror. I keep my hair cropped short for a multitude of reasons, but the biggest is that I could never sit still like this and have someone tug and pull at it for formal styles. They have taught Queenie to endure this since she was a wee princess, so she’s happily reading while I spray, twist, and decorate her. She looks up and chats with me occasionally, then stops when she instinctively knows I’m focusing. It’s eerie how well she can read my moods, to be honest.
I suppose if you’ve lived with a mercurial narcissist for most of your life, you become an expert in when to make yourself small.
“There. Perfect. You look beautiful.” I study her reflection in the mirror for a moment and pause. “Before we go in, add some magical snowflakes and sparkle to complement the necklace.”
Once again, I’m dressed in matching shades of blue and white to complement her glittering white Yule gown. This time, however, I helped her accessorize under the large skirt to facilitate our plan. Q has my pants from the last party rather than bloomers and we stitched tear away velcro at the waistline. When we sneak off during the distraction, we’ll dispose of the skirt and use the thick coats we stowed to cover her bare shoulders and arms. It’s a hike to the first hideout, and I have to make sure she’s dressed for the weather.
“You made certain all of our disguises and things were still hidden earlier?” she asks. “My hair will give us away if anyone spots us before we make it to the border.”
“I did it while you were applying your war paint, love. Everything is ready, I promise.”
“Trixie knows what to do?”
My mischievous companion lets out her signature noise, pumping a small fist like she’s cheering, and we both laugh. “I think that’s a ‘yes’, darling.”
Queenie is nervous as hell despite our session. It’s not only the worry about her sister catching us—it’s fear of the unknown. She’s rarely been out of the Ice Kingdom and before they hired me, she had no access to the internet. They limited her knowledge of the outside world to what I’ve shared with her and vague memories from childhood. My girl had no idea what to expect because she’s been basically held prisoner most of her life.
There’s so much we’re going to do and see once we get free; I can’t wait to show it to her.
“Good.” She lifts her chin and looks at me, her eyes serious. “I’m ready to find out what the rest of our lives look like.”
Hell yes, baby.