That evening's ball was held in honor of the visiting Spanish delegation. If Kristoff had any say in it, the visiting Spanish delegation would've been thrown back into the fjord. The Duke was a pompous strutting peacock with an ego almost as big as he was short. He didn't understand why Anna or Elsa would throw a party for him, let alone put up with him, but Kristoff knew he had no patience for politics.
Kristoff stood with Anna behind Elsa's throne while the overdressed little man presented his suit for Anna's hand as if she were a shabby side of beef to be bartered away and he was doing them a favor by taking her off of Arendelle's hands.
Kristoff smirked as the temperature in the room dropped, and Elsa coolly dismissed the foreign emissary with mention of the evening's festivities. The Duke's bow had so many flourishes it was as if he were trying to clean the floor with his ridiculous cape before he turned and strutted out of the room.
Elsa sighed. Anna giggled. Kristoff glowered at the closed door. "At least there's a ball. You'll come to this one, Kristoff?" Anna looked up at him with those bottomless blue puppy-dog eyes of hers.
"Oh, I'll be there," he grumbled. Anna giggled again. Elsa covered her eyes and sighed once more.
So Kristoff crammed his stocky frame into the too-tight formal slacks and the overstarched shirt and coat and glued himself to Anna's side, a hand held politely yet his fingers curled possessively at her waist.
Anna had to dance with several local lords, and the strutting rat bastard of a duke as well. She chatted and laughed with each noble, ever the gracious host, while Kristoff stood by the Queen with his burly arms crossed and a sour expression on his face. He knew he shouldn't be jealous, but he growled low in his throat when the Duke got a little too handsy. It was only Elsa's cool gaze that kept him from doing something permanent to the smug-faced little cockwomble.
The Duke glared down his nose at Kristoff while his gloved hand drifted well south of Anna's waist. Kristoff inhaled, shoulders straining the seams of his coat, then strode across the dance floor and tapped Anna on her shoulder. "Your highness," he bowed, a slight inclination of his head. "May I have the honor of this dance?"
The Duke opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut with a gulp when gazed up and up at the dangerous brown eyes looking down at him above broad shoulders and work-rough hands large enough to crack stone. "Ah, another time, princesa mía," he gave her a florid bow, then backed away and practically scuttled off.
"Thank you," Anna sighed, then took Kristoff's hand with a smile. "I was—oh!" she gasped. Kristoff pulled her in a touch too tightly for propriety's taste, the hand clasping hers to his chest a touch too close, the broad hand on her back more than a touch too possessive, but he couldn't care less. He led her in a simple waltz with more grace than he usually did, and with a dark gleam in his eyes that had Anna trembling in his arms.
"He shouldn't have touched you like that. Not after you told him no."
"You want to break his legs, don't you," Anna grinned up at him, a feral gleam in her eyes that matched his own.
"Do you want me to?" Please say yes…
Anna bit her lip and looked up at him from under her lashes. Gods, how does she do that? He pulled her in closer, his need to hurt that Spanish son of a bitch a pale flame next to his need for his princess. That need burned hard and hot in his belly, blinding him to everything but her. She grinned wickedly up at him. "No, I've got a better idea."
He knew that look. She would be the death of him, but right now he'd go to war for her if she gave the word.
She placed a slender hand on his arm and calmly walked across the ballroom, whereas his steps were downright feral. She caught the Duke's eye and waved at him, but steered Kristoff towards the door before the little man could make a move.
Once outside the gilded double doors she grabbed Kristoff's hand and ran with him through the deserted halls, all the way to the guest wing and into Duke Fancy Pants' suite. "Anna?"
She turned and pinned him with storm-dark eyes, then pulled him down into a soul-searing kiss. "I am your princess, Kristoff," she groaned into his mouth. "Yours."
He knew what she was asking of him. Knew what she wanted, and gods he wanted it too. He pulled her back towards the closet and closed it behind them. He crushed her to his chest and kissed her deeply, passionately, possessively. "You're my princess?" his voice was low and hungry, one hand coming up to cradle her skull.
Anna nodded with vigor, and his fingers dug into her hair.
"Say it," he ordered.
"I- I'm your princess," she panted, chest heaving with excitement. "I'm your Anna."
His other hand came up to caress her delicate jaw. "My Anna…" His Anna. His fiery, awkward, gorgeous Anna. Others may chase the title, but he saw the woman. He cherished the woman. He wanted the woman. He kissed her again, devoured her sweet moans as she eagerly pressed into him. He used the hand tangled in her hair to pull her back, to tilt her head so he could latch onto her slender neck. His tongue traced patterns in her freckles, stopping a few times to leave little marks of possession along her collarbones. "Say it again."
"Yours," she keened. "Please, Kristoff, make me yours."
His cock twitched at the sheer wantonness in her voice. He kissed his way back up to her mouth, nipping at her lower lip before drawing up to his full height, pressing his hardening desire against her. Anna's eyes glittered in the dark confines of the closet, the scent of her arousal clouded his mind as he pinned his gaze to her kiss-stung lips. Gods, he loved her. And here in that fuckwit's room, he would love her like she deserved, like no one else could.
He thought to bring her hot mouth up again to his kiss, but she surprised him by dropping to her knees in front of him, his hand still tangled in her hair. She made quick work of his trousers, freeing his throbbing cock and sliding her palm up and down the thick length. He bit back the moan growling deep in his chest.
"I'm yours," she whispered, looking up at him with doe eyes before taking him into her mouth.
He tried to hold still for her, to let her tease and suck his cock at her pleasure, because gods it felt amazing! Her mouth was so hot, so soft, so wet around him. He trembled as she worked him over, sliding her tongue deliciously over and around his shaft, and when she moaned the vibrations shook him to the core and he thrust into her mouth. Her hand on his thigh gripped tighter and she hummed again, goading him onward. The hand he had fisted in her hair clenched and pulled her in as he thrust again, deeper this time. Then again, and again, until he was fucking into her throat deeper than he ever had before.
Sweat beaded along his brow at the sight of his gorgeous princess with his cock down her throat, her plump lips and smoldering eyes setting fire to his blood. He wasn't going to last much longer. He had to hold on, because fuck he had so many other things he wanted to do with her. But he felt the oncoming rush of bliss, the tightening knot of want about to burst…
The outer sitting room door slammed open, and Anna pulled back from him with a muffled squeak. She turned and pressed her face to the narrow crack of the closet door, and muttered a soft curse when she saw the Duke storm into the room, a squirrelly advisor scurrying in behind him.
Fuck, the sound of that luscious mouth of hers uttering that filthy word he taught her… he grabbed her waist and pulled her to her feet. He then dragged his hands up her corseted torso to fondle the tops of her breasts.
"This is an outrage!" the Duke sputtered. "I came to this frozen wasteland to claim a bride and the stupid girl disappears on the arm of a- a commoner!"
Anna smirked as she felt Kristoff ruck up her skirts, felt him caress her thighs, her hips, her backside. Her eyes drifted shut at the sensation.
"And who does that cabrón peasant think he is, putting his uncouth hands on royalty!?"
Anna quivered as those wonderfully uncouth hands worked their way inside her drawers and deliberately, deliciously spread her open.
"She is my princess to claim!" the Duke ranted.
"My princess," Kristoff purred into her ear as he pressed his aching length into her tight heat.
She reached up blindly, looping one hand around his thick, sweaty neck while the other attempted to muffle her pleasured whimpers. He pulled back slowly, inch by delectable inch, before pushing back in just as slowly. She shuddered in his arms, grinding down on him harder, but he kept his movements slow, precise. He dug blunt fingers into her hips, working her over his cock, claiming her with each deliberate thrust.
More. He wanted, ached for more. He wanted her breathless. He wanted her frenzied. He wanted her to forget the idiot Duke and any other idiots like him. He dipped a hand into her drawers to press and stroke his fingers against her clit.
Part of him was pleased he was having his beautiful princess mere feet from the offensive Duke. But honestly he knew there was no contest. Anna chose him. Anna loved him. This close to her, with her tiny whimpers in his ears and his shaft buried in her sweetness, nothing else in the world mattered but Anna, Anna, oh gods Anna!
He reached up and stifled her growing moans. One hand across her mouth, the other rubbing tight circles against her clit, faster and faster. She clung to his forearm, short fingernails digging into the starched linen of his coat. "You have to be quiet," his breath ghosted across her ear. "Can you be quiet for me, my Anna?"
She parted those perfect lips of hers, and he slipped a finger into her mouth. He stifled his own groans into her neck as she sucked on him. He pressed her tight against him as he thrust up into her slick heat over and over and over again, harder, faster. He bit down on her earlobe and growled, "You're my Anna. You're mine, Anna. Come for me. Fuck, that's my girl, come for me."
Her head slammed back against his chest and her back arched. He held on for dear life as she shattered in his arms, her lips trembling against his fingers, her inner walls fluttering and clenching around his cock, drowning him in her release, pulling him down into sweet oblivion with her. He latched onto her shoulder with a grunt and emptied himself into her.
"What was that?" the Duke squawked.
Kristoff glared murder at the narrow slit of light emanating from the closed closet door, still latched onto Anna's shoulder, still hilt-deep in her dripping softness. He was more than willing to risk an international incident if the little gobshite got anywhere near his Anna.
"Your Grace, the Queen summoned you for an audience," the squirrelly advisor squeaked.
The little man grimaced, then spun on his high heel and stalked out of the room.
Anna relaxed into Kristoff's chest with a breathy sigh. He nuzzled at her neck, pressing gentle kisses into the reddened marks he left on her. "My Anna," he sighed.
"Yours," she hummed. "Told you I had a better idea."
"You have the best ideas," he agreed.
She reached up to cup his clean-shaven cheek. "Still feeling jealous?"
He tilted his head and kissed her palm. "If I say yes, can we do this again?"
She burst into a fit of giggles, leaning into his embrace even more. He slowly pulled himself out of her, soothing his hands along her curves. They stepped out of the closet and straightened their formal attire as best they could.
"Oops, guess we kinda made a mess of your drawers," Kristoff apologized.
"Don't worry," Anna got that impish look in her eyes again. "I've got another idea."
She knew she'd catch hell for it later, but Kristoff wasn't the only one who felt the need to let that idiot Duke know exactly who she chose to be with, who she belonged with.
So with a wiggle and a twist, and without a backwards glance, she kicked off her cum-stained drawers and left them in the middle of the Duke's sitting room.