WHAT GOES TOGETHER BETTER THAN COLD AND DARK? - PART 26
Jack already knew that pretty hidden paradise in which North periodically went to stretch his worn out limbs: he had discovered it a century ago, during one of his unsuccessful forays into his Palace. Caught while he was wandering in the corridors by Phil he had preferred a hasty escape not the umpteenth capture and, rushing out of the first available window, he had found himself facing a strange cloud hovering on the glacier's white snow; curious he had approached it and so discovered that as absurd as beautiful corner of warmth in the middle of the Arctic ice. That day, afraid to be seen again and scolded, he had explored it quickly, fleetingly touching the soft moss which surrounded the pools and dipping the tip of a foot in the water to check the temperature; flying away he had promised to himself he would have returned there in a quieter time, but the impending winter and all the duties deriving from it had soon made him postpone the visit to an indefinite date.
The years had passed, slipping away one after the other through the storms, the jokes and the vain attempts to get noticed by the children, and that fading memory had almost been completely erased when he had officially become a Guardian, the illusion he had been fulfilled. Just five months later he had realized he'd been wrong: that designation so honourable haven't dispelled the loneliness which had been accompanying him since he had been born for the second time, and only Pitch, albeit unintentionally, had managed to show it to him and made it disappear. Even after their first encounter in his lair he had been on cloud nine, sure that, despite appearances, the man felt something for him, and the second one had done nothing but confirm this: for hours and hours he had stayed squatted on a branch, continuously gazing at the ribbon and the string that the other had given him to replace the broken laces and being pleased with so much care, but the cold ruled the roost that night, and memories hadn't been enough to drive it away.
It had been because of this reason that, called the north wind, he had flown up to those springs, sure that, given the late hour and the fervour for the imminent Christmas, no one would have bothered him; walking cautiously, in order not to slip, he had took off all his clothes in the moonlight, advanced towards the bigger pool and, one step at a time, he had dove up to the chest. The embrace in which he had been wrapped had been even warmer and more enveloping than Pitch's, or, at least, than those he had given him up to that moment: with an ecstatic smile he had let himself go, happily splashing and deeply inhaling the water's scent which, contributing factor the moss, was so similar to his love's, and he had laughed at the happy memories that had pervaded him.
After less than a minute, however, he had begun to feel strange: his muscles had seemed weaker than usual, the pulse more accelerated and the breath more laboured, the heat he had perceive too intense to come from the pool and the sight too blurred and distorted to be simply fogged by the steam. Puzzled he had touched his neck and cheeks, feeling them so hot they almost seemed on fire, and, at that point, he had began to panic.
Terrified by the fact he could have drowned for the sudden weariness which had gripped him and the inability to swim Jack had started to move, walking on the floor while helping himself with his arms; somehow he had managed to reach the south shore, where he had hoisted himself on a large flat rock half submerged in water, and there, by now exhausted, he had been laying.
His temperature had needed about a quarter to normalize: a quarter during while the boy had had to thank his incredible luck in finding himself with the face where the pool was only half an inch deep, while around his hips was two inches deep. After he had completely recovered he had lifted on his right elbow, checking with his eyes that the skin was still hyaline, as always; intending not to leave anything to chance he had stroked it with his fingers, to make sure it hadn't been burning any more, and he had instantly startled, not because of the heat, but of the pleasant chills that a touch so light had given him: evidently the warmth had the power to amplify the sensations his nerves could feel.
That late winter afternoon, so, it would have been enough for him to sneak into the pool, waiting for the initial dizziness to pass and only then come forward, but peeking at Pitch while holding himself back in order not to approach him was hard for him, and, in any case, he hadn't had so much time to show himself up; hoping to be lucky he had stepped forward, fiercely resisting until North had left, but at that point he had given up, struggling not to faint. The Boogeyman had soon realized that something was wrong and, using words incomprehensible to him, he had tried to reassure and understand what was happening; Frost, however, should have taken too long to try to answer, because, softened by the steam, a worried voice had reached his ears, saying: «Enough: we must get out of here immediately».
Two strong arms grabbed him by the shoulders and knees, pulling him out of the hot pool and exposing him to fresh air, and the boy, partially pulling himself together, protested: «N-no, Pitch! Do not take me away».
«Jack, what are you saying? You're almost burning: all this heat is harming you, I have to take you away immediately!» cried the man.
«No! Do not take me to a cold place, or I would really feel sick: take me to the area where the water is less deep. I don't need to freeze in order to recover, but just to cool off a little, and that's a perfect place» murmured Jack with difficulty.
He clearly perceived the other wavering, torn between his thoughtfulness and the trust he have in him, but in the end the latter prevailed: accompanied by a confused lapping Pitch advanced, heading towards a warmer area and then settling on his knees to proceed, and finally laid him gently in the shallow water.
Perfectly relaxed the boy let settle his limbs and head in a comfortable position which allowed him to breathe easily, and he had to hold back a smile when his partner began to brush the skin with his fingertips, squirting minute drops to refresh him: it was touching seeing him melting in such a loving behaviour.
Although he had, by now, recovered, he pretended to be still groggy, spoiled by his gentle cuddles and by the looks which, no doubt, he was addressing him, but soon after, feeling guilty, he moved his right hand, to reciprocate with a soft caress on his thigh, and he blinked, to make him understand that he no longer had to worry about him.
Those tendernesses, however, didn't stop: the Boogeyman continued to fondle him for several minutes, at first helping him to calm down, but then causing him problems for the sighs he had to hold back and finally causing him a sudden chill.
With a worried expression on his face the man stared at him, probably making sure he was not hurt, then he laid down beside him and bent over his ear to speak to him; instead of predictable questions about his health, however, Frost heard the other asking him in a sensual tone: «Jack, did you break North's suspensions?»
Totally busted the boy bent his lips into a mischievous smile and, throwing his forearm around his neck and his calf around his waist, he said: «It does not matter any more now: you've fallen into my trap».
With a leap he grabbed his hair and pulled him up to expose his throat, then, aiming to the bite he had already left him, he snapped at it; flattered by the languid groan he heard he continued his work, sinking his teeth into the torn flesh and sucking the drops of blood which oozed from it, but it didn't take long to the man to react.
Strongly grasping his neck Pitch slammed him against the floor, piercing him with a look as magnetic as incomprehensible and tightening up until he took off his breath and impeded the blood flow to the head; at that brutal gesture and the stillness which followed Jack shivered with fear, fearing he had done something wrong or ruined a moment of gentle pampering, but it was only a fleeting impression: satisfied with what he had seen the Boogeyman pounced on him, reducing the pressure just enough to let him breathe, but without freeing him.
Jack, who had immediately guessed his intentions, parted more his mouth, accepting his tongue and sticking out his own to participate, but he couldn't do much: the man knew exactly how to keep him at bay, and the boy had to undergo that aggressive kiss, quivering in sharing his heat and flavour with his partner's one and wincing under the caresses to his palate and the bites to his lips already swollen.
Hindered by the uncomfortable position, which forced him to stretch out his neck to reach him, Pitch settled back, resting his right leg between Frost's opened ones and touching, unwittingly or not, his groin; surprised the boy, already aroused, let out a stifled sigh and, almost without realizing it, he rubbed his pelvis against the thigh that had revealed his condition.
Gradually slowing down the Boogeyman broke that almost frantic union and licked his lips one last time, then he pulled his head away from him and, with an amused look and an arrogant smile, he teased him: «Already, Jack?».
The questioned, not offended, laughed back and replied: «And you, Pitch? Not yet?».
Taking advantage of his thinness he slid out from under the body of his love, scratching his arm to free his throat and reversing the positions with a leap, then, after locking his wrists beside his face, he got even: not waiting for him to catch his breath he kissed him with violence, then, getting angry when he realized the other could easily keep up with him, he stroked his pelvis with his quadriceps.
The faint sigh he heard in reply was music to his ears: he would have never expected to see the man give in so easily and quickly, but it was clear that he was not the only one who was animated by an irrepressible desire. Maybe had the Pureblood tried to lure him, too? And, in this case, what vision had it shown him? With a little effort Jack could guess what they had been, and, no doubt, if they had been as lusty as his ones, they should have seriously put his self-control to the test.
While he moved away from his hot lips to reach his tortured jugular he couldn't help but shuddering at the memory of those images, sent to him by surprise: the Nightmare had worked well to lure him. At first, in fact, Frost hadn't realized he was living a dream: nothing of the scene had changed, neither the Globe, nor the lights that adorned it, nor the horse and nor Pitch, standing at its side; soon after, however, with a very realistic naturalness, the latter had rested his head against the beast's: he had stroked the throat's silky fur and nodded to make him approach, and Jack, deceived, had got closer, enchanted, but without fear. He had had his first doubts few steps far from them two, when, probably led to this by his unsteady gait, his love had fallen to his knees, holding with the right the creature's muzzle against his chest and stretching out the left to beg him to reach him: a strongly unusual behaviour for the Boogeyman. Puzzled the boy had hesitated, thinking about withdraw from what seemed to him to be more and more a deception, but he hadn't manage to: with a feline leap the man had clung to his hips, lifting his hoodie to rub his cheek against his naked stomach and putting him at the mercy of the mastermind.
As soon as the Pureblood had touched him every artifice had been revealed: the man had never invited him to join him, he had never knelt or, least of all, had reduced himself to implore him to make him stay; he had simply stood where he was, staring at him with an amazed expression while the horse exercised his art to perfection.
Frost, however, hadn't had time to react to the revelation, because a fast series of images had blinded his eyes and hit his nerves: Pitch undressing, Pitch kissing and stroking him, Pitch going down and down with his skilful mouth to make him moan loudly, Pitch forcing him on his knees asking him satisfaction, Pitch finally giving him his flavour, Pitch grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against the table adorned with engravings, Pitch opening his legs and penetrating him, Pitch, Pitch, Pitch, holding him in his arms while he took him against a wall, staring at him with hungry eyes as he thrust into him in the middle of a clearing, compelling him to get on all fours on a bed to ride him better, Pitch, Pitch, Pitch, who made him feel in ecstasy and yet seemed not to be ever enough. The boy had had to cling to his sadistic torturer to prevent himself from falling to the ground, and he had struggled to hold back his hands, already directed towards the groin to give himself satisfaction, and his tongue, ready to beg for it, but, in the end, the exaggeration itself had saved him: not even if he had had an entire night to spend alone with his love he could have received and endure so much pleasure, so he had to calm down and regain control, restraining himself, waiting for an opportune time to be fulfilled, at least in part.
He had successfully pulled away the Nightmare's muzzle, concealed his dizziness with a set phrase as he tried to recover and finally lost any desire in seeing his partner torn apart by the beast's jaws, or, at least, he had thought so. As soon as the wooden lift had dived into the ice where North was assembling the sleight those visions had violently come back in the mind, distracting him and making him more sensitive than a raw nerve: everything reminded him of the Boogeyman, from the capfuls of wind which caressed him, as lascivious as his slender fingers, to the echoes, which resembled his steps, to the scent of moss which Santa fed the reindeer with, that smelled like his perfume.
Completing the two simple tasks which the master of the house had given him had been a real nuisance: they were not only long and boring, but they also required concentration, and he had had to muster up all his strength to gather the little left. For hours he had remained in that cave, sitting on an icy spur while staring at North and Bunnymund, who were talking about things incomprehensible to him, and causing blizzards in miniature to test the wood, puffing at every break and unable to move; when he had seen his friends putting the tools away he had let out a sigh of relief and tagged along them to go out, but both had reminded him that he should have cleared the tunnel and, weaving their hands and paws, they had left him behind. Exasperated he had lent himself to that second task, demolishing one stalactite at a time, but soon the anger had taken over: with a growl he had released all his power, sweeping the gallery with a cold gust so violent it had opened cracks on the walls, then he had flown outdoor. It hadn't taken long to him to locate Pitch, and the vision of him naked and plunged into the pool had given him the perfect inspiration: laughing he had got again into the cave to freeze the suspensions, sure that, given their supporting position and their small size, their rupture would have created damages not with little significance and not attributable to himself, then he had gone back to the baths, quickly taken off his clothes and then stepped forward: when North had moved away he had been sure he had won, and he had stopped stifling those sensual memories and the excitement they entailed.
As he recalled the events which had brought him there, with the satisfaction he didn't have to hold neither groans nor chills, Jack, who had diligently kissed and bitten every inch of the Boogeyman's chest, finally reached the goal he had set for himself: settling back between his partner's legs he waited for him to raise himself on his elbows to follow him with his eyes, then he bent over and took his cock into his mouth at once; he allowed himself only few moments of smug stillness, enjoying the fact he had been able to wrap it up to the base, then he immediately began to suck, ignoring the awkward position and the fatigue and rejoicing at his every gasp. Scratching his hips to lure him and send him more pleasure he courted the member with the palate, brushing it with his tongue and insisting on the most sensitive spots, stroking it with his teeth to make him startling, freeing it to lick and fondle it with his lips and then taking it back, entranced by its prompt response and the growing sense of suffocation it gave him.
However, just when he began to perceive a slight taste of nightshade and he got ready to pick up the pace, he felt a hand brutally grabbing his ruffled locks and pulling him up; unable to oppose Jack was dragged up few inches far from the man's face, clinging to his shoulders to relieve the pain in the scalp and blinking to focus, and he heard him whisper: «Oh, how good you are in using that beautiful mouth of yours, Jack: it's only the second time, and yet you move as if you had a lot of experience. Got something to confess me, honey?».
With a mischievous smile, albeit strained because of the excitement, the boy replied: «I learned from a Pureblood of our knowledge».
«Oh, Jack» said Pitch in a teasing tone; «First you let yourself be seduced by the King of Nightmares, then you tame one of his beasts, then you allow it educate you towards obscene arts and eventually you destroy North's sleight: are you becoming a naughty boy by chance?».
Rubbing his pelvis against the other's stomach Frost groaned, biting his bottom lip more to seduce him than to stifle it, then he submissively replied: «Yes, I'm a naughty boy now, and you taught me that naughty boys must be punished: is it not so?».
The expression the Boogeyman addressed him in return was priceless: satisfied, raptured, terribly possessive in those onyx eyes that pierced him with such longing he feared they could tear the flesh off his bones, and full of expectation.
«You're right, Jack: naughty boys must be punished».
With that last sentence, uttered harshly and sensually at the same time, the man finally ended the conversation and, rudely pressing on his nape, he forced him to bend down again on his groin: exactly the gesture the boy was waiting for.
Sticking out his tongue at first he only licked that pure velvet organ, giving light kisses on its most sensitive spots, then he opened his mouth and eagerly took him down his throat: determined not to wait for the partner he began to suck, using his hands to better stimulate the erection now complete and capriciously varying the pace, willing to bear the other's tugs and frustrated sighs in order to prolong the pleasure. When he realized he couldn't push his luck further more he never stopped, regularly moving both the head and the fingers to cause him the orgasm, and when he thought he was close enough he tightened his lips' grip, digging his nails into his hips to give him the coup de grace.
It was with a groan almost more satisfied than his love's that he received his semen, following his involuntary thrusts in order not to waste a single drop and waiting for the flavour to pervade his palate before swallowing: he wanted to made sure to keep it as long as possible. He couldn't say why he liked it so much: ages had passed since he had eaten or drunk anything, but he was sure that a flavour like the nightshade's one was too strong and bitter for his liking; in addition to this, he was certain that, if someone had told him about oral sex just three months earlier, he would have reacted with a shocked and disgusted attitude. Why should he have knelt in front of another man and use his mouth in that way, bearing his lewd sighs and even tasting the fruit of such an uncomfortably court? Yet, from the first time in Toothiana's clearing, Jack had realized he would have no longer wanted to get along without it: he adored having the Boogeyman under himself and at his complete mercy, he adored his demanding sighs, his soft and pleading caresses and his ecstatic contractions, he adored the sense of chocking and amazing wholeness that this gesture, apparently of pure perdition, could give him, and accepting his semen was nothing but a way to keep forever a part of him, letting him know how much he loved him and considered him special.
As the boy rubbed his hand's back on his chin and closed his eyes to catch his breath the man, not tired at all, turned to him, addressed him a mischievous grin and then took advantage of his temporary weakness: without further ado he grabbed his hips, he reversed the positions and pounced between his opened thighs to reciprocate.
Caught by surprise Frost groaned loudly and instinctively pushed his hands over his head to drive him away, because the chills which had been crossing his body were so intense to induce him to shrink from them; Pitch, however, as the stubborn and domineering man he was, he didn't let him do it and, ignoring the moans and the tugs, he clawed his buttocks and continued his work. Now trapped, the boy had no longer had the strength to stand up and he simply came under him, shivering every time his fingers tightened the grip, panting uncontrollably, caressing his chest and cheeks in a vain attempt to control himself, barely glimpsing among the steam and the fog of his fading sight his head moving up and down in that endless dance.
A minute was enough to bring him to the limit, and Jack didn't try even for a moment to hold back himself, knowing that he would have never managed to: opening his legs and clinging to his own shoulders for support he came, emitting a high-pitched scream which echoed in the basin and, finally, sloppily collapsing.
He barely felt the Boogeyman free him, climbing his chest in an endless trail of kisses and then raising himself up on his arms to observe him, and he struggled to turn his face and look at him, but the show fully rewarded him: his love's irises were perfectly clear and bright, two shining rings of gold framed by black flames, and his expression was so ravenous he seemed about to devour him.
Drowning in those two pools of liquid onyx the boy stretched out his arms to tenderly encircle his partner's neck, then he whispered: «Make me yours».
The man smiled at the request, as sweet and spontaneous as lustful, bending over him to kiss him and moving his fingers to his entrance to prepare him, but Frost didn't want to wait and, digging his nails into his back, he burst out: «Now».
Hearing that order Pitch narrowed his eyes to slits, probably torn between the annoyance for such and undisciplined command and the admiration for such an initiative, but in the end the latter prevailed: with an arrogant grin he blocked his wrists beside his face, then, recalling their first night, he archly replied: «As you wish, my little Jack».
He took just enough time to settle better his knees, then penetrated him with a single thrust of the back, apparently satisfied with the little care he had had, but with the light of the concern in his eyes; such an attention, however, was not necessary. The boy, in fact, slowly arched his spine to follow the chills, opening the eyelids both because of those and of the amazement: he had expected to feel a severe pain, perhaps not comparable to the first time, but certainly debilitating enough to force him to stop and catch his breath, but, given the excitement, the other's ability and the baths' warmth, he had felt only a slight twinge.
Clenching his thighs around the Boogeyman's waist he silently begged him to continue, and the partner didn't need to be asked twice: finally allowing himself some faint sighs he lowered his head until he could bite his chest and neck, then he tightened the grip around his forearms and began to give rhythmic and deep thrusts; Jack, on the other hand, followed them as best as he could, ignoring the cramps in order to breathe better and running his tongue over his lips to let him know how much he was enjoying that moment.
Soon after, however, he had a sudden spasm, which caused him to lose his grip, already insecure, around the man's wet waist, but, before that union was abruptly interrupted, the Boogeyman intervened to save him: with a jerk he grabbed his right leg, pressing it to his own chest and covering the calf with kisses and hickeys, then he firmly blocked it against his shoulder and went on from where he had been stopped.
Supported by the partner and enthralled by the new position, which allowed him appreciate better both the embrace and the passion his love put in it, the boy finally let himself go, closing his blind irises blind and turning his head to one side: now the only things he could feel were his crazy heartbeat vying with his own, his eager pants saturating the air, his velvet hands caressing him everywhere and his harder and harder cock repeatedly violating him.
He didn't take long to give in: a thrust stronger and better aimed than the others was enough to make him come for the second time, shaking him from head to toe and leaving him more sensitive than ever before. Now perfectly satisfied he enjoyed whole hog the orgasm and any sensation amplified that ensued, and smiled delighted when he felt Pitch continue to court him, pursuing the pleasure he had given but not yet gained, and finally reaching it with a last, deep thrust.
As he had done during their first night Frost pressed his hand on his own mouth, covering it to hear without interference the languid groan the other let out, and enjoying the warmth which pervaded him when he poured his semen inside him, marking him for the umpteenth time and making him feel so desired.
While the tremors slowly faded away, allowing him to breath more regularly, he felt the Boogeyman freeing him and gently sliding out of him, making sure, as always, not to hurt him and to alleviate the sense of emptiness pressing the palm on his abdomen; fearing he was tiring him the boy bent his leg, in order not to weigh on his shoulder any more, but he was quickly stopped.
The man, in fact, grabbed the ankle with his right hand and pulled it towards himself, turning his head and resting it against it: enraptured he smelled its perfume, closing his eyes and lightly touching with the nose tip every protruding bone and tendon, then, more delicate than a summer breeze, he placed his lips on it in a first, sweet cuddle. Keeping his eyelids closed he slowly went down, redrawing with the mouth every inch of skin from the toe to the knee, and once there from the knee to the pelvis, caressing with his palms the areas he couldn't reach; satisfied with the soft sighs he had caused and, perhaps, also touched by the crouched position assumed by his love, he smiled, then going in a long trail of kisses along his hip to the shoulder and taking refuge against his neck.
Moved by those attentions Jack moved his right hand to stroke his back and reciprocate, but in doing so he had to slightly turn the torso and his eyes glanced on the top of the basin's wall: surprised he saw the Nightmare he had grown silhouetted against the sky, proud as only a Pureblood could be, with the muzzle leaned forward to look better.
A moment of distraction was enough to fall into the trap: a second before the boy was frowning, trying to guess the reason for that apparition, and a second later the only things he could focus on were its terrible orbits, so bright they seemed the fires of hell; valiantly struggling he tried to resist and turn his face, but the memory of the visions seen was still vivid and fresh in him and, combined with the experience he had just had, could have only one epilogue.
Feeling his icy power waking up of its own will Frost tried to batten down the hatches, breaking away from Pitch, but it was too late: a strong discharge passed through his right arm, conveying on his fingertips and then spreading to the other's loins.
Stuck at full the Boogeyman violently arched his back, turning his expression into an almost suffering on and exclaiming in a tone half surprised and half pleading: «Ah, Jack!».
The boy clearly understood that his partner was struggling to breaking point in order to pull himself together: he saw him baring his teeth, straightening his back, look elsewhere, digging his nails into the hard floor and finally shake, but he knew he could do nothing against that stimulus so sneaky; it was for this reason that he wasn't surprised when he felt him pressing behind his right knee to force him to bend his leg even more and bending over him: such a reaction was more than expected.
Trying to overcome the mild panic which had gripped him Jack forced himself to relax, decontracting every muscle to get ready, and in that moment he couldn't have had a better idea: the Boogeyman, in fact, stunned by the attack and the excitement ensued from it, wasn't delicate at all and, skipping the foreplays, penetrated him with a single sharp movement.
Without even having time to catch his breath the boy felt him immediately settling on his knees and starting to thrust, not caring if he caused him pleasure or pain, and even not caring about himself, judging by his fingernails which bled because of the constant rubbing against the pool's floor: he seemed more the prey of a blind instinct than the victim of a need.
He had the final confirmation soon after, when, keeping the legs laid down on one side, Jack twisted his torso until he exposed the chest, to watch his love: he didn't almost have time to find his silhouette among the steam that Pitch intervened with a growl, forcing him to turn his face again and intertwining his finger in his messy hair not to let him slip away.
Frost meekly allowed him to dominate, slightly rotating the pelvis to ease the penetration and stroking the man's outstretched arms to send him hot chills: he loved seeing him gaining the upper hand and imposing his expert guide in their unions, even immobilizing him, and, albeit awkwardly, he still wanted to show him the gratitude he felt. The clear violent connotation of the intercourse didn't bother him at all: it wasn't the first time they made love that way and he had never felt scared or abused. Despite the appearance, in fact, Pitch knew how to lovingly take care of him even in those moments: his every move was contrived to make him feel the most intense pleasure, every little pain inflicted conceived to stimulate him even more, every gesture outwardly rude an act of kindness and every gasp a declaration of his love.
Perfectly at ease the boy closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breath to enjoy every sensation to the best; while earlier his body had been overturn by continuous, strong chills, which had crossed it several times until he had reached the limit, in that moment the pleasure he perceived was more dull and well located in the abdomen, and he managed to bear it in a different way: he didn't feel the need to moan, and the muscles, instead of shaking, merely quivered, but his strength quickly left him, while his loins warmed up to the point he almost felt on fire.
When that almost unbearable heat reached the cheeks he felt the other startle and break the rhythm, and he couldn't hold back a cry of frustration: the orgasm was close, and that interruption had denied it to him; few seconds later, however, the Boogeyman remedied that lack, lying on him without encumber him to have a firmer support and snapping at his jugular.
That gesture was enough to satisfy him: trembling, like a prey under a panther's attack, Jack arched, clinging desperately to the man who was both brutal aggressor and thoughtful lover and letting himself go with a whimper, while his skin's sensitivity increased to levels almost painful.
What came next was only pleasure in its purest form: the man's teeth tearing his flesh, his soft tongue soothing the bites, his warm breath tickling his skin, his eager sighs vibrating in his ears, his thrusts more and more quick and deep shaking his limbs, his hard cock repeatedly violating him, these and only these he could perceive, and he felt completely overwhelmed. He almost didn't notice when the partner came inside of him, because his semen seemed no longer hot when compared to his own abdomen, but the muffled acute he heard was the final confirmation: Pitch emitted it only when he had reached the complete fulfilment.
It was shocking for Jack feeling him slip out from himself, leaving behind a sudden and almost pulsating empty, but he hadn't the strength to stop him, nor the heart: probably the Boogeyman was so exhausted he could barely stand up. As Frost expected he heard him groaning to raise himself, pulling himself on his left and then collapse, causing a small wave, and he inevitably smiled: for once even his partner was so tired he couldn't move.
Curling up to compensate for the lack of physical contact he allowed himself few moments of rest, but then, unable to hold back his curiosity, he started to stir: Pitch still hadn't given any sign of recovery and he wanted to look at him, in order to understand his condition. Pressing his hands on the floor the boy stretched out his legs, then, levering on his palms, he turned around, and what he saw far exceeded his expectations: the Boogeyman was completely worn out, and sprawled in the shallow water, his breath still heavy, his light eyes opacified and half-blind and his muscles so weak they stretched in almost unnatural positions.
With an amused smile which became wider and wider Frost crawled towards him, he slid into his arms and nestled against his chest, resting his left knee on his waist to hug him and trying to hold himself back, but in the end he gave in and let out a chuckle.
Awakened by that sound so inappropriate the other hugged him, lowering his face to send him a disapproving look, then he observed: «Good thing you asked cuddles to me today».
«But I really wanted some cuddles, Pitch» cheerfully replied the boy; «And the day is not over yet. It's just that it would have been a real waste not to take advantage of an opportunity like the one that occurred».
«Oh, yes, a fortuitous occasion indeed! Is it not so, Guardian of the spites?» commented the man in a mocking tone.
«I'm good in having fun and entertaining those who are with me, am I not, Pitch?» provoked him Jack.
At that statement Pitch bent his lips into a mischievous grin and, leaning on his ear, he sensually whispered: «Oh, yes, Jack, you're such a good Guardian of Fun: you always put effort in what you do, but now you've really outdone yourself. You were so seductive while you were looking for me and giving yourself to me, so irresistible while you moaned, opening your legs, and you caught me by surprise with your icy treat: you craved for me, didn't you, sweetie? Where did you get all that energy and inspiration?».
Throwing his arms around the other the boy answered: «It's partly thanks to a Nightmare of our knowledge, that has even taken the trouble to come here to watch us: it would have been really cruel disappointing it by offering it only cuddles and hugs! However, do not think that I let it control me: I pounced on you only because I wanted to, not because I couldn't say "no" to its tricks, and I stopped because I saw you were exhausted».
The explanation he had given was not completely true, but not totally false, from his point of view: the Pureblood had undoubtedly lured him, using all his arts to erode his resistance, but he had given in because of his desire, not of exhaustion. Nobody could force him to have an intercourse with the Boogeyman, but, at the same time, nobody could ever deny it to him: Frost loved him, he found him attractive from every point of view and he adored the sensations he felt when he made love with him, why on earth shouldn't he have lure him and give himself to him if he desired to? He had the right to do what he wanted with his partner, and he would have always done what he wanted. The fact that he had stopped for pity, of course, was a lie: although he seemed to be the less tired among them two, he knew he had been the first to collapse; however, he had added that sentence to his speech both to tease the partner for the umpteenth time and to reveal, in a way not too clear, a truth he had not quite the courage to admit: despite the long and satisfying embrace the desire he felt had not completely faded.
«Oh, really?» intervened the man, interrupting his thoughts; «What a great act of generosity was yours: stop in order not to exhaust me further. But you're making me feel guilty: tell me, Jack, do you still want?».
Letting out a giggle and determined to cut him some slack in that game of mutual provocations that, so often, they had had with each other for fun, the boy said: «Sure, but, you know, I understand that now you're too tired to keep up with me, so I will settle down and keep my cravings for me».
«Oh, Jack, how could you forget? You know I can give you pleasure in a thousand ways, and you can be sure that I will use all of them to make you scream» concluded Pitch with languid voice.
Jack didn't even have time to realize the seriousness of the promise that he was grabbed by the hips and firmly slammed into the floor: he saw the Boogeyman licking his lips as he grinned, settling between his legs and then, without warning, he felt his fingers penetrate him.
Taken completely by surprise he pushed his elbows on the bottom for support and exclaimed: «Ah, what...?!».
Pressing the left palm on his chest the man forced him to lay down again, then he blocked him with his own body and, covering his mouth with his hand, he murmured: «Jack, my little boy, you have to behave now: the Pureblood is still here, and it would be cruel only disappointing it by offering it only cuddles and hugs, don't you think so? Scream for me, Jack, beg me, call my name or what you want me to give you: I want to hear your beautiful voice broken with pleasure».
Almost without waiting to finish the sentence he scissored him and the boy instinctively tried to pull him away, still torn between the amazement for the initiative taken by the partner, the desire to seek more pleasure and the fear of receiving too much: he had taken for absolutely granted that the mutual provocations had, as always, ended the embrace and started off the sweetest and most moving moment of their unions, and he wasn't prepared to resume. Pitch, however, knew how much he craved for, and he also knew perfectly what were the right cords he had to strike to make him give in: with his onyx eyes narrowed in concentration he moved the fingertips inside of him, groping for few moments, as if he was undecided, but then he confidently touched that special spot he had discovered less than two weeks before.
With an involuntary jerk Frost arched his back so violently against his chest to lift the Boogeyman, causing him to lose his grip on his trembling lips and holding his breath: the stimulation had been so focused and effective it brought him on his knees in less than a second, and, if he had ever harboured some doubts about that little prosecution and the conditions it would have left him in, in that instant he forgot them, along with everything existing except for himself and his love.
Moaning incoherently he clung to the man's back, digging his nail into it in order not to slip and opening his thighs as much as he could to leave him more space, and he barely noticed his teeth sank into the jugular: actually his pupils showed him only a hazy halo grey and white and, despite the growing sensitivity of his nerves, the only things he was able to perceive were the series of increasingly warm and exciting chills which, from the lower belly, spread into his body, reaching even the nape and the toes.
In a short time, despite the deep scratches and the brave endurance, the boy lost his grip and slid on the floor, but he kept anyway his spine arched, to follow ever thrill and contraction, while copious tears streamed from his blind eyes. None of his reactions that he was voluntary or mindful: since he had been penetrated by Pitch's fingers he had completely lost control of himself and he could only shiver, claw at the smooth floor and at his partner's skin even smoother and moan without restraint; it was for this reason that, till the end, he didn't notice he was close to the limit.
With an incredulous and satisfied acute Jack startled, lashed by one of the most intense orgasms he had ever experienced in his life; he didn't expect he could be able to come for the fourth consecutive time, and he struggle hard to bear the myriad of shocking sensations which had gripped him: the chill which had struck him, in fact, obstinately echoed along the nerves, and the tremors, instead of fade away, increased from moment to moment.
Caught by a mild panic he stammered the his love's name to ask for help, but, as soon as he felt him bending over him, he calmed down: until Pitch was there with him there was no doubt he would have taken care of him in the best and most thoughtful way, and he had nothing to fear about.
Wandering his eyes still blind and wet on the blurred halo he supposed it was his face he smiled, then he weakly whispered: «Thank you» and slipped into the darkness.
When Pitch heard Jack faintly murmuring a thank and collapsing in his arms he couldn't hold back a smile: the boy had the innate talent to appear at the same time sweet and sensual, and that perfect mixture made him melt every time.
Touched at the sight of his little snowflake exhausted and still crossed by chills he lightly kissed him on the cheek, then he bent over his ear and whispered: «I love you, sweetie».
He hugged him again for a while, reluctant to end a moment so magical, but soon he realized that, by now, it had passed some time since North had moved away: no doubt, if they hadn't returned soon, the Guardians would have come to look for them, or, worse still, they two would have had to walk into dark along a road they barely knew, seriously risking to get lost in the endless Arctic cold.
Looking up to see if his assumptions were correct the Boogeyman saw the sky shining in thousands of colours: while the east already darkened into a midnight blue, the west was lit up by infinite shades of purple and orange, and the zone of conjunction between the two faded from cobalt to violet to burgundy and amaranth.
Enchanted by such a sight it took a moment to Pitch to realize that no silhouette broke the line of the horizon: the Pureblood, which until few minutes earlier had stood on the edge of the basin, ravenously watching their every move, had now gone, maybe satisfied with what he had seen, maybe simply frightened by his master's possible reaction, or, maybe, for a mixture of these and other reasons. Actually the man was not happy about the fact he had been peeked by one of his servants: the idea of having his ardent eyes fixed on the back as he made love with Frost made him quiver, knowing that such a sly creature could have heard their moans of pleasure caused him a violent jealousy and, in general, the certainty that a fifth wheel had participated, albeit as a spectator, to one of their intimate union made him feel vulnerable and stolen of that experience.
Reflecting with greater calm, however, he managed to cool his hot temper: the Nightmare, albeit sadistically clever, was and remained a demon, therefore he couldn't have enjoyed nothing except for the carnal intercourse; furthermore, given its ability, that act of voyeurism must have been more an exercise than a spiteful gesture of annoyance.
Opting for an equitable solution Pitch decided to give a warning to the beast, once he had met it again, but to put off the punishment to the next act of disobedience, so he finally set aside the issue and got ready to take care of his love.
Letting out a small moan he straightened his back and checked that the boy hadn't been wounded: with patience and accuracy he examined every piece of skin from the thin ankles to the bony knees, from the narrow hips to the sharp shoulders, until he reached the face and the scalp, and, whenever he ended to linger on an area of his body and went on to the next, he gently stroked the limb just passed.
All those kind gestures, rather than a habit, had become almost a ritual: he did them always after all their embraces, taking advantage of those moments when Jack was not conscious to make sure he hadn't hurt him in any way; in fact, although he had changed his attitude and heart weeks before, he still feared that he wasn't treating him with enough care, that he let himself go too much or that he went too far: all unpleasant events which he wanted to avoid and which he would have never forgiven to himself.
Fortunately, as always, he found nothing alarming: some scratches on the buttocks, a trail of bites on the jugular, a slight abrasion to the lower lip and, in general, hickeys and light bruises on the chest and limbs. None of those signs looked severe or painful and Frost, normally, was satisfied of them: he adored those marks, both for the heady sensations he felt when he received them and for the possessive meaning they had, and it was a long time by now that, when he saw them healing, he spontaneously asked for new ones; Pitch, of course, had never denied them to him.
Reassured by the boy's conditions the Boogeyman stood up, making his eyes wander through the fog to orient himself; after about a minute he spotted an area that was just right for him: slightly far away from the others, it emanated a little steam, as if it were less hot, and hot had a pretty crystal clear waterfall, suitable for rinsing off from the skin the murkier one of the baths.
Bending down again he lifted the boy, lovingly holding him in his arms as if he were a sleeping child, and settling his limbs and head to make him feel comfortable despite the very short journey they were about to do; he allowed himself a moment to gaze at his little snowflake in all his innocent tenderness, then, advancing cautiously on the floor and then on the moss, he walked to the chosen destination.
I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave me a comment or a question, if you want to. Next chapter will be published on Wednesday. Since I haven't finished to translate it yet I might be late, but I don't think it will really happen; however, if you don't see the update on Wednesday, be sure I'll publish chapter 27 on Thursday