Chapter 24 Daphne
Chapter twenty-four
Daphne
The lights hanging over the ice rink sparkle like a thousand tiny stars, turning the whole place into a frozen stage. Andri shuffles behind me, shoulders hunched as if the universe might lob another catastrophe at him any second.
“I swear I’m more coordinated than this,” he mutters.
“You are—just not in skates,” I say, looping my arm through his, giving him a little tug of encouragement.
He slips. Again. A quick, startled skid, his arms fling out before one big, warm hand finds my waist. He steadies himself on me as we step through the rink door, his palm covering nearly my whole side—secure, grounding, despite the ice beneath him.
“I don’t mean to keep dragging you down,” he frowns.
“Yeah, but I like keeping you steady,” I say softly, adding a wink that makes his ears perk.
“Oh?” he asks, a teasing rumble in his voice as a single finger trails slowly up and down my spine. “You don’t mind me falling?” He looks at me—really looks—and for a wild second I swear there are actual hearts sparkling in his deep brown eyes. My heart stumbles right along with him.
“I don’t mind. Maybe I’m falling too.” My voice is barely a whisper as he steps onto the thick rubber tiles outside the rink.
Andri watches his own feet as if they might betray him again, placing each step with careful determination until he reaches a bench. “You’re amazing on skates. Why would you be falling—”
I hook a finger around one of his horns and gently turn his head toward me. Then I press a soft little kiss to his lips.
“I’m not talking about the ice,” I grin, sliding down beside him to tug off the chunky plastic rental skates.
When I stand, he’s still frozen—hands on his laces, expression dazed. His gaze lifts, slow and wonder-filled, like he might just float away on pure emotion alone.
He huffs a small laugh—no embarrassment this time, just warmth and fondness bloom in my chest.
Because I’m not embarrassed with him. Not even a little.
That warm, fizzy truth curls through me as I cross the snowy parking lot. I’ve never been with someone who makes me feel less self-conscious. With Andri, there’s no tightness in my chest, no little voice whispering doubts, no wondering if I’m really the girl someone wants.
With him, there’s only warmth. Only comfort. Only patience as I figure out what I want from my life.
There’s only Andri—the snowman who’s always catching me when I fall.
He reaches out, brushing the snow from the top of my hat with the gentleness only a yeti in a human world could learn. A lifetime of trying to fit into spaces too small for him, of holding himself back so he doesn’t break things.
His blue fingertips skim my hair, and my breath catches.
And it hits me—clear and bright as a falling star over fresh snow.
I’ve fallen in love with Andri.
The heater hums in the cabin of his truck as I wait for him to come out of the hardware store. The minotaur in the apron, who I’m assuming is the Rick of the store’s namesake, hefts several large bags of salt over both his shoulders, with Andri doing the same and following close behind.
The truck jumps as they toss the heavy bags into bed, then they shake hands that are nearly twice the size of a human’s. We’ve got most of the resort salted, but the private cabins' walkways are still a little slick.
I’m not looking forward to having to lug those bags onto the gondola—even though I’m sure Andri will only let me take one. He’s learning that it’s better to give me tasks than to tell me to relax. I’m a helper and he’ll just have to get over it.
When he sits next to me, I can tell he’s still glowing from my admission at the rink mere minutes ago. He doesn’t say anything, just grabs my hand and puts the truck in reverse, pulling out of the street parking spot.
He grips the steering wheel hard with his other hand as we slow at the red light. The soft glow of the dashboard lights his striking profile, breath warm, body radiation the otherworldly heat.
I bring his knuckles to my lips and kiss them.
“Pull over,” I whisper.
“Where?” He looks around before looking back at me.
“Somewhere quiet.”
He swallows hard. “Okay.”
He turns left to the road out of town and finds a plowed turnout beside the woods a few minutes out. His headlights cut through the drifting flakes. We’re so close to the hustle and small-town bustle of Main Street, but here the world feels wrapped in a soft blanket—hushed and suspended in time.
He turns off the engine but leaves the heat running low, for my benefit. The fan sighs softly.
I shift closer, sliding my hand along the thick muscle of his thigh. His breath sticks audibly in his throat.
“I want you, right now, right here—all of you,” I sigh.
His body tenses, not with fear, but something far more reverent. “Are you sure?”
I rest my forehead against his chest, letting myself nuzzle the warm thick fur.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I smile, flipping up the wide armrest between us on the truck bench seat.
He hoists my ass up, and slides his legs under me, onto the bench. His back rests against the driver-side door as I settle on his thighs. Andri pops the button on the waistband of his shorts open. His fingers find his zipper as he eyes me with hunger.
“We only have to do what you want to, I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you—”
I shut him up with my mouth, my hands are flying down, and pulling his zipper open.
The weight of his heavy cock springs out and rests near my thigh. It’s already impossibly hard and throbbing, and I’m reminded again of how big he actually is.
His fingers find my hips, and he breaks the kiss, his face worried.
“I want to, so badly,” he pants. “You’re so small though, and I’m—”
“I know,” I murmur as I kiss his neck. “And I still want you.”
The kiss grows deeper, his body heat spiraling between us, as he squeezes his hands over my hips again, as if testing his restraint.
A shiver rips through me as I’m in his grip.
The truck windows fog as the air inside the cab grows more humid, denser.
I open my knees, grab him by the root and notch him at my entrance. Heat pools low as I feel his solid length nudging at my entrance.
He groans, forehead dropping to my shoulder. “You feel…”
“I want you inside me, all of you,” I whisper, fingers trembling as I guide him.
He shudders.
“Are you sure?” he asks again, voice unsteady.
I cup his jaw with my free hand, meeting his gaze. “I want to take you, I want to stretch for you.”
His eyes flutter shut like the words alone are threatening to undo him.
With a deep inhale, he lowers me—so slow and careful—over the tip of his cock. There’s a zap through the ring of nerves at my entrance, and I tighten.
A soft gasp escapes me. Andri grips my hips, trying to hold absolutely still, trembling with his restraint.
“Tell me if you need to stop,” he rasps.
“I don’t,” I whisper, breath shaking. “Just give me a moment.”
I breathe against his neck, letting my body adjust around the fullness of him. That pinch of his first entry slowly melts into a sweet ache.
I let gravity help, placing my hands on his shoulders as I ease myself even lower. My pussy weeps around him, and with each tiny stroke, I spread my lubricant lower, easing myself down.
His cock catches the light as I rise again, that iridescent skin flashing between us. The shaft throbs, thick and heavy, as I spear myself down further.
“You’re doing so well,” Andri groans, his thumb searching for and finding my clit as he throws his head back and closes his eyes.
“That feels so good.” The pleasure makes my pussy clench, and everything gets too tight again.
“Hey, relax for me, Daphne, you’re so close to swallowing me up.”
His thumb slips up and down against my clit, and he’s got me melting against him again.
“I’m just going slow, but I promise I’m not stopping.”
Andri kisses my shoulder, and when I finally move again, a little growl of pleasure rips from his lips. Something about the noise, so primal, gives me the strength to let myself all the way down.
His thumb works, sandwiched between his low belly and my sex. I can feel the coolness of his minty precum against my inner walls.
“You’re so good, so perfect. Such a good girl taking my whole cock,” he groans.
“I want you to fuck me,” I get out through my gritted teeth.
When he finally moves, it’s like a whole new world has opened. His cock stretches me, activating nerves I didn’t know I had. His motions start slow, as if he’s worried he’ll break me. But when I meet him stroke for stroke, he loses some of his restraint.
The truck rocks. Snowflakes whisper against the window, the world outside soft and steady as we find our rhythm.
Like a lit fuse, my spark of pleasure blooms into that tight feeling right before bliss. And as he fucks me, one hand on the back of my neck, he pulls my forehead against his.
“You’re perfect, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted…”
His cock jumps, and I can feel the cord inside me only seconds from snapping. His mouth drifts to the hollow of my neck, and his teeth softly trace against the flesh just above my collarbone for a second before he turns it quickly into a kiss.
“Fuck me, Andri, make me come,” I beg.
He moves his mouth to my breast, sucking the nipple into his mouth as his movements get more chaotic. His hips thrust hard and deep, and our bodies slap together.
With one more flick of his tongue, I’m ruined.
The feeling of coming around his massive cock has me nearly blacking out. The searing pleasure of his size radiates to the tip of every limb until I’m as limp as a rag doll.
He follows me into heaven, and the cool spurts of his minty cum bring me back to reality. He pulls his cock from me slowly, then wraps his arms around me.
“Are you okay?” Andri mumbles into the top of my head, his voice all rumble and worry.
I have to take a second—like, a real second—to mentally check if all systems are still online. And they are… technically. But wow, am I sore. For as good as he felt inside me, my body is definitely filing a complaint with HR. I push my crooked glasses back into place and let out a breath.
“I might be walking funny tomorrow,” I admit, “but if that’s the tiny price I pay to be closer to you, I’ll take it.” I’m aiming for light and reassuring, but judging by his face, I absolutely miss the mark.
“I never want to hurt you,” he whispers, stroking a hand down my hair like I’m made of spun sugar. “You’re so precious to me.”
“It’s nothing I don’t want.” I tilt my head so I can actually see him. “Just a small—well, big—snag we’ll figure out. You felt so good inside me.” My hands drift lower, teasing, because maybe I can distract him from the guilt spiral he’s clearly about to ride.
But he catches my hands before they get anywhere near his cock. “You need to rest, and I’m going to be the person who makes you do it.” He gives me this stern look that somehow makes me feel both flustered and slightly called out.
“But what if I don’t—”
His finger presses to my lips, and I can still smell what we just did on his skin, and it’s fucking hot.
“Non-negotiable.”
I shut my mouth immediately, because I’m not stupid—this is very much the wrong moment to sass him. This isn’t the moment that bratting will get me anything but in trouble.
He lifts me off his lap with that careful strength he always has—like he’s afraid I’ll crack if he squeezes too hard—and sets me on my side of the truck. Then he helps me get dressed again. It’s awkward and sweet and, honestly, a little hilarious, but he’s trying so hard that I don’t dare laugh.
I wince the tiniest bit as I shimmy my pants over my butt, and that is apparently enough to trigger something in him.
“You’re about one more look of pain away from a week of bedrest,” he warns.
“Maybe a hot bath and a massage will cut it?” I ask, lifting a brow like maybe that’ll soften him up.
“Happy to start there,” he says, and the way he says it makes my stomach flip.
He shifts the truck into drive, the headlights catching on the snow outside, and even though I’m sore and rumpled and my glasses are definitely still crooked, I feel weirdly warm and safe and cared for in a way that hits a little too deep.