I love everything you do
When you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit I do
I wanna ride my bike with you
Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you
I'll pull them off for you
Melanie Martinez, "Training Wheels"
—
Anna re-entered the room, her face grave as she met Kristoff's brown eyes.
"That was Elsa," she informed him, gesturing to the phone in her hand. "She's not going to make it this weekend after all. Too swamped with work. The party is cancelled."
The five-hour drive had been easy, despite the weekend holiday traffic, and they had arrived at the Cape Cod house a little after four o'clock. They had made good time, even after stopping at a kitschy roadside diner for lunch along the way.
Kristoff saw upon first look that calling it a house was an incredible understatement.
The place was nothing short of a mansion, at least three stories tall, and exuded old money with its old-fashioned, coastal New England charm. The entire colonial facade had been painted recently with a fresh coat of white, with marine-blue frames and cobalt shutters and crimson doors, and just beyond the other end of the wraparound porch he could hear the dull roar of ocean waves beating against the beach.
When Anna stepped out of the car and realized that Elsa's own white Lincoln SUV was missing from the drive, she led Kristoff inside to wait in a type of parlor while she wandered off to call her sister.
He drummed his fingers on the wooden table he was sitting at as he gazed around, admiring the vertically-striped yellow wallpaper that covered the room, the exposed wooden beams and ornate crown molding that ran the length ceiling, and the large bay windows that let in a fair amount of the late afternoon light. He had never been in a space so classically nice before. Hung on the far wall he noticed a framed family portrait of a young Anna and Elsa standing side-by-side, flanked by two people who he assumed to be their parents.
He was about to get up to inspect it further, particularly interested in seeing younger Anna's freckled and cherubic face up close, when she came back with her announcement of Elsa's foreseeable absence from the holiday festivities.
"What do we do now?" Kristoff asked rhetorically. It was only Saturday, leaving them with two open days.
"It's just the two of us this weekend, I guess. We've got the place all to ourselves." Anna gave him a lopsided grin. "We can do whatever we want."
She reached out her hand to him.
"Come on. I'll give you a tour."
–
Anna started with the top floor, pointing out the guest rooms, bathrooms, and a lounge. On the second floor, most of which was taken up by a loft overlooking the first floor, she showed him her and Elsa's old rooms and the adjoining bathroom that they had once shared before making their way back down to the ground floor.
"So, this is like… your childhood home?"
"It's more of a vacation home," Anna clarified, pointing out the den to their right as they passed. The door was open just a crack, allowing Kristoff a brief glimpse of the ancient built-in bookcases as he trailed the young woman, as though he were a simply a tourist at a museum and she was the docent. All he was missing was a camera and a fanny pack.
"We'd spend some weekends and summers here growing up. There's my room up ahead."
Anna pulled open the double doors at the end of the hall to reveal an expansive bedroom, with hardwood floors and white walls, furnished with only a black four-poster bed with matching nightstands on either side, a dark blue rug, and a wooden dresser. Beside the entryway was another door, leading to an in-room master bathroom, and across the room were two storm doors, each one made up entirely of a single, framed pane of glass, that opened directly out onto the beach, offering a breathtaking panorama of the ocean and the red-orange sunset sky that burned on the horizon.
"It used to be my parents room," she explained. "But when they caught me sneaking out one too many times they decided to just swap with me, so that I could open the doors and leave whenever I wanted."
Kristoff raised a suggestive brow. He knew why teenagers snuck out. After all, he had been one himself, once. "Sneaking out?"
He imagined a teenage Anna, lanky and fresh-faced and not quite filled out in all the right places yet, sneaking out to swap saliva in the back of a Mercedes with some trust fund prettyboy who wore stuffy suits and played lacrosse and drank Cristal at the country club.
It caused a pang of jealousy to stab through his gut.
"It wasn't like that," Anna laughed, as though she could read his mind. "I would just go to the beach. I loved the water. It was always so serene, so different from the city. I'd sit and watch the waves by myself for hours. They were as restless as I was back then."
She ran a hand across the white coverlet atop the bed, her brows drawn together in concentration. Kristoff watched the emotions that played across her face with great infatuation, enchanted by the way she physiologically responded to the thoughts inside of her own head; he wanted to know what she was thinking.
After a minute of silence, Anna broke her reverie and glanced up at him, lips parted in surprise, as though she had forgotten that she wasn't alone in the room with just her memories.
"Are you hungry?" she asked him. "Let's have dinner."
–
After a simple dinner of angel hair pasta and marinara with a side of vegetables, whipped up by the Princess of Arendelle Publishing herself, they grabbed a pair of stemmed glasses and a bottle of Merlot from the pantry and headed out to the beach through Anna's bedroom.
Everything was awash in dull, gray light, thanks to the full moon that hung on the black curtain of the sky overhead like a silver coin; the hissing ocean was a dark, infinite abyss, and if it weren't for the moonlight that reflected on top of the waves it would have been nearly impossible to tell where the water ended and the heavens began. Being on the populated coast, they couldn't see as many stars as Kristoff had anticipated, but they could definitely still see more than they could back in the city. The nearest houses that Kristoff could actually identify were easily almost a mile away on either side.
Anna plopped down in the soft sand and poured each of them a glass of wine, handing one to Kristoff as he took his spot beside her, facing the sea. The breeze was warm, rustling her wavy hair and the trees behind them in a gentle symphony of whispers, but it held a nip like a warning, foretelling the autumn to come.
The number of times she had sat out here by herself were countless, watching the waves in peaceful loneliness, dreaming of the day she'd finally have somebody to share the view with.
And now, here she was, sharing the view, with the last man she ever expected.
It made her come alive, her heart beating just a little faster and she chugged her wine in one go, a trail of burgundy dribbling down her chin.
Being with Kristoff both unnerved and excited her; she couldn't deny it.
"Hey," she started suddenly, cutting through the silence between them like a blade. "Remember when I told you that I'd never gone skinny dipping?"
Kristoff turned to face her and noticed the slightest glimmer of something mischievous in her expression. Before he could respond, however, Anna was up on her feet, pulling at the tie at the front of her white cotton dress and letting it slip from her body.
She was standing there in all her glory, her pale skin illuminated by the moonlight, stark and proud and bare, wearing nothing but a pair of silky, flesh-colored panties. Before his very eyes, she slipped her fingers beneath the straps and pushed downward and then those were gone, too.
"Last one to the water is a rotten egg!"
She took off in a spray of sand, giving Kristoff an uninhibited view of her gorgeous, round bottom as she ran.
"Come on!" she shouted from over her shoulder, diving forward and disappearing beneath the waves without another look back.
Bewildered, Kristoff chortled to himself and stood, clumsily pulling his shirt over his head with wine-loosened limbs and tossing it to the ground. His khaki shorts went next. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers, ready to take the plunge into total public indecency territory, when he realized that he had yet to see Anna resurface from beneath the sea.
He scanned the top of the water, looking for any sign of her orange head bobbing on the waves, but saw nothing. Seconds passed, and then a minute, and… nothing.
A chill ran up his spine.
"Anna?" he called out.
No answer.
When he shouted her name again, louder, and still received no response, he bolted towards the ocean's edge. He paused for a moment, anxiously looking for bubbles or ripples or any sort of indication of life in the cold depths below, before he inhaled sharply and dove in.
Moments later he resurfaced, with the lively, sopping, nude woman in his arms, pulling her out of the water and dragging her up the beach until he felt they were far enough away to be safe from any further danger.
"Kristoff, what the hell?" she sputtered when at last he had set her down on the sand and knelt in front of her on one knee.
The burly man's eyes were wide with fear as he tried to comprehend the situation, his wet hair matting uncomfortably to his forehead, struggling to catch his breath.
"I thought you were– when you didn't resurface right away…"
He thought she had been in distress, torn away by the current, or had possibly even drowned, and he had been afraid. A breeze blew by, chilling him to the bone, but he couldn't be sure it was caused by the wind to begin with.
Damn it all, he had been afraid of losing her, and the revelation clutched at his heart, snaking its way in and putting down roots there until it was no more separate from him than the pulse of the blood that coursed through his veins, arrowing to his groin.
He moved forward, crawling over her body until she was leaning back on her elbows as far as she could go, her wet hair swinging behind her as he placed one hand beside her on the sand for leverage and another on her thigh, holding her to the spot as his knee nudged her sex. His eyes darted to her purple-stained lips, to the little dip at the corner where the tiniest drop of sea water had pooled, and licked his own lips eagerly in anticipation, yearning to taste the salty wetness there.
"Kristoff?" Anna's voice trembled, but with desire or fear, she couldn't be sure. She could tell that she was incredibly aroused, the spot between her legs creaming and dampening her inner thighs even further, the heat contrasting against the coolness of the water on her skin. Her nipples peaked and a chill trickled through her body, but it wasn't because of the night air.
He growled low in his throat at the sound of her name leaving her lips and brought his hand up, dragging the rough, dry skin of his knuckles along her side, starting at her hip and making his way upwards to her ribs, her breast, her neck. He stopped at her jaw and stroked gently with his fingertips, stretching his thumb to wipe the wetness from her mouth. The pad of it brushed over her lips and she puckered them instinctively, kissing the digit, entranced by him.
His mouth was on hers then, swallowing her surprised cry as he kissed her hungrily, roughly, desperately. She kissed him back just as passionately, her resistance melting away to free the unbridled, unchecked desire that had been lurking beneath, simmering for some time already. Kristoff swept his tongue inside the moist cavern of her mouth and Anna moaned; she tasted sweet and earthy with a hint of salt, and he felt himself grow harder with each passing second that their tongues danced together, painfully aware that the cold, wet cloth of his boxers was the only and final barrier between them.
With effort and a grunt he tore his mouth away from hers and reached down, taking Anna by the hand and pulling them up to stand together, making a purposeful beeline for the door to Anna's bedroom, her small hand clasped in his larger one the entire way. Their clothes and wine and glasses were left behind in the sand, forgotten and unimportant.
They stumbled together into the room, leaving the doors wide open in their wake, and Kristoff led them to the bed, laying Anna down as he climbed on top of her, kissing her like mad all the way.
When he broke the kiss for air, each of them gasping, he gazed down into her blue eyes and swallowed thickly.
"Anna, do you want to do this?"
She nodded, eagerly and without hesitation.
"Yes, Kristoff."
Reaching up, her lithe fingers tangled in the sodden hair at the nape of his neck, guiding his face down to hers and kissing him before she changed her mind; he pulled his boxers down, freeing his erection to line it up with her sex, their bodies mingling in the sand and sea water that collected on the sheets as the passion between them reached a feverpitch.
When she bucked and whimpered against him, Kristoff gasped. "Wait, we need a–"
He thought about the condom in the pocket of his shorts, left back on the beach; not that he had been planning on anything happening, but damn, he had definitely hoped.
"It's alright," Anna breathed, gripping his shoulders. "I'm on the pill."
Kristoff rubbed the head of his cock against her slick opening, revelling in the delicious way she shuddered at the contact. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he slid into her, letting out a moan and dropping his forehead to hers.
When he pulled back and met her gaze, he could see the discomfort in her eyes; his face must've held a question, because she answered it without him saying anything.
"I'm okay," she managed to bite out through her clenched teeth, gasping as she did so. "It's just... different."
It had been so long since she and Hans had done– well, anything– that she was afraid it would hurt. Plus, Kristoff was bigger than her ex-fiance, in more ways than one. But as she squirmed and Kristoff stilled, she found herself wanting– no, needing– more. She needed him to move.
"I'm not made of china, Kristoff." She jerked her hips slightly, as if to emphasize her point. "If you don't start moving soon, I'm going to kill you."
He pulled out and pushed back in, repeating the motion when she moaned out loud and threw her head back, his hardened member stretching her deliciously to accommodate his girth. To Anna, having him inside her felt absolutely incredible; to Kristoff, being inside her was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
His pace quickly became demanding, his breaths coming in short bursts, taking all that she would give, thrusting in time with her moans and mewls as they came in rapid succession. Her fingernails dug into the flesh of his upper back, egging him on, willing him to push her toward some unforeseen destination. It was as though her womb was a coil, winding tighter and tighter until...
"Kristoff, wait–"
Her body spasmed before she could get the words out and she cried out, stars exploding behind her eyes; her back rose off the mattress as strange, unfamiliar waves of pleasure rippled through her, and when she finally came to her senses again, settling back onto the bed, she felt a distinctive warm spot beneath her bottom. Kristoff held her through it all, and when Anna looked down she could see evidence of his own orgasm splattered across her stomach; she had been too consumed by her own to notice.
Anna's face flushed a deep scarlet. "I… that's never happened before."
"Don't be embarrassed." Kristoff swooped down and placed a brief, chaste kiss on her lips, his face flushed and amber eyes sparkling. "Come on. Let's go get you cleaned up."
–
Remember to always practice safe sex, kiddos.