A/N: Thank you so much for your support :) I get so excited when I get a new follower or review!

I mean that "T" rating, just keep that in mind.

The book Elsa catches Hans reading, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure by John Cleland originally published in 1749, is considered the first erotic novel in the English language. It's also known as Fanny Hill or The Memoirs of Fanny Hill. It was actually difficult to find excerpts from it that were suggestive, but didn't push into M territory.

Elsa would steal glances at Hans every time she was able, smiling when their eyes met, but she kept her distance from him. It was a game, a mild form of masochism; she wanted nothing more than to feel his touch, but since that wasn't possible she enjoyed the almost painful anticipation.

He watched her glide around the room speaking with his parents, Anna, Kristoff, Rapunzel, Eugene, his twelve brothers and their wives (the ten that did not reside in Baltia had arrived in the days preceding Elsa's arrival and had each in turn told him how foolish he was and offered their sympathies for his mental anguish). He wasn't sure what she was playing at, but he knew that smile. That was the smile she had worn when she when she saw him having tea with Brigitta, when she demanded his unconditional surrender, and when she thought to create the sea fog; something was going on in that beautiful mind of hers.

"So, what are you going to do?" Anna asked as she flopped on Elsa's bed.

"I plan to sleep."

Anna sighed, "About your toy in the tower."

"Anna!" Elsa was shocked by her sister's language; Anna laughed.

"Seriously though, are you going to tell him about the fire this time?"

"I'm afraid."

"Of?"

"That he'll be angry, that I'm understanding this all wrong."

Anna smiled at her, "I doubt he could ever be angry at you; he worships the ground you walk on," she laughed as Elsa blushed, "I think you're understanding things just fine and besides, you know fear doesn't work well with you."

Elsa smiled, "I know."

She had to keep herself from running up the stairs as soon as she passed the guards at the bottom. Yesterday morning was the last time she had gotten to see him other than from distance, and it was now after dinner. Her knock was harder than she meant it to be and despite questions eating at him he couldn't hold back his smile at the sight of her.

Now that she saw him closely he looked exhausted, "Are you feeling well?" she asked with concern.

"Yes, I've just had some trouble sleeping."

She watched as he walked about the room busying himself momentarily with random things that couldn't hold his focus, "Something's troubling you."

"No, nothing's troubling me," he forced a smile and spun a pen on the desk.

"You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you?" He turned away from her and fumbled the book in his hands catching it just before it hit the ground. He opened his mouth several times, but nothing came out. He knew that if he didn't ask it would only get worse. He turned to face her, "I need to know what I am to you," his golden green eyes held the ghost of heartbreak.

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, "I owe you an apology."

"For what?" his voiced trembled.

"For having you light the solstice fire with me without knowing what it meant."

"What is the significance? Siegfried refused to tell me."

She turned away, "I presented you to my entire kingdom without even asking you," she continued as though she hadn't heard him, "guilt has been eating at me since the morning after."

"Please tell me what you are talking about," he was barely able to keep the panic that was rising in check.

"As you know the solstice celebration is about the rebirth of the sun. The fire represents this rebirth, and in Arendelle this fire can only be lit by a couple that is either married or," she swallowed hard, "betrothed."

"Betrothed!"

"Yes, I'm sorry; I just became so entranced with the entire ceremony I acted despite my better judgement," he could hear the tears in voice and saw frost spreading across the floor.

"Queen Elsa," he stepped in front of her, gently held her face in his hands, and wiped a tear away from her cheek with his thumb, "I'm not upset. Everyone can get caught up in the moment and say or do something they do not really mean."

"You misunderstand me," he could feel her trembling, "My only regret is that I did not ask your permission," she looked up into his confused eyes, "I know this is all happening rather fast, but we have essentially been courting each other for nearly two years now, and your sudden departure made me realize that I don't want to live without you," she gathered all her courage, slid her hands up his chest, brought them together behind his neck, and whispered in his ear, "be my king," she pulled back and he looked stunned.

"I… uhh… wha…?" he shook his head to break his confusion, "Queen Elsa, please understand my love for you has nothing to do with your crown."

"I know. You could have had a throne far easier with another queen," she gently kissed him and looked into his lovely peridot eyes, "Just say 'yes.'"

"Yes," an irrepressible smile graced his face.

"Anna," Elsa knocked on the door to the room her sister and her husband shared.

"Come in." Elsa opened the door, rushed in smiling and embraced her sister, "Does this mean what I think it means?" Elsa nodded against her sister's shoulder. Anna bounced on the balls of her feet, "I can't believe you did it! I mean, I can since you obviously did, but this is so exciting! I'm so proud of you!"

"Can I ask what's going on?" Kristoff asked confused.

"Elsa and Hans are getting married!"

"Married? How do you know that? She hasn't said anything."

"You don't speak sister."

He sat in the window seat with his back against one side of the deep window frame reading when she knocked and entered. He did not look up, entranced by the book in his hands. He wore his indispensable boots, dark blue trousers, a blue shirt, striped blue waistcoat, burgundy cravat and white tailcoat with black collar and cuffs. It took her a moment, but she realized why that seemed so familiar; it was the same outfit he had worn three years ago. Images of him when he entered the cell she had been held in flashed in her mind and frost crept along the floor. She concentrated on more recent memories: his voice as he read to her, the touch of his lips on hers, and the joy she felt when he held her close; the ice receded. A glint of gold as the sun hit the chain of the pocket watch in his waistcoat brought her back to the current time and she smiled. The sun danced on his fiery hair and the play of light and shadow on his body commanded her gaze. His trousers hugged his long legs, the one facing her was bent and his boot rested on the cushion he sat on, the other lay extended along the cushion parallel to the window. She watched his thick chest rise and fall and remembered the surprise and excitement she felt when she first put her hands against chest to find that there was no padding accentuating his magnificent form. Upon his return the lines in the last letter he sent her held new meaning; the parts that had broken her heart now elated it, but one particular line turned her thoughts in an indecent direction.

"I'm sorry, I was so caught up I didn't hear you come in," he said sheepishly as she lifted the tome from his hands.

"What could have held your attention so tightly?" Elsa said walking away with the book.

"Nothing, nothing at all!" he grabbed the book from her and held it behind his back.

She raised an eyebrow, reached behind him, snatched it from his hands, and walked away; he tried to prevent it only to find himself frozen to the floor. "Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure," Elsa looked at his bright red face and played innocent; she was well aware of the books contents though not personally familiar with it, "I don't believe I've read this one," she flipped to a random page reveling in the harmless discomfort it was causing him. She began slowly, '"His hair trimly dressed, clean linen, …made him out as pretty a piece of woman's meat as you could see,'" she paused to conspicuously run her eyes over Hans' body, '"and I should have thought any one much out of taste, that could not have made a hearty meal of such a morsel as nature seemed to have designed for the highest diet of pleasure.'" The desires he expressed in written words that had probably forgotten he had confessed to her ran through her mind, '"And why should I here suppress the delight I received from this amiable creature, in remarking each artless look, each motion of pure indissembled nature, betrayed by his wanton eyes; or shewing, transparently, the glow and suffusion of blood through his fresh, clear skin…'" she was interrupted by Hans, who had broken free of the ice, pulling the book from her hands, "but I enjoy it when you read aloud."

"I would enjoy you doing the same, just not with this book," he was immensely thankful he did not possess an illustrated edition.

She reached forward, grabbed it from him, and ran laughing to the other side of the room, "Maybe I should read it and we can discuss it later since you find it so fascinating." He chased her around the desk, around several tables, and the bath. He reached out to grab her, only to find himself frozen to the floor again, "'I readily assented to whatever he pleased-In an instant, then, my under petticoat was untied and at my feet, and my shift drawn over my head, so that my cap, slightly fastened, came off with it, and brought all my hair down…'" Elsa read as she backed away; her mind placing herself in the role of the speaker and Hans as her lover.

He broke free of the ice, placed one hand on the center of a table, vaulted over it, ran forward and finally cornered her against the wall between the bed and the wardrobe; slamming his hands against it on either side of her head. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks touched with pink, and she wore a coquettish grin. He gazed down at her with half-lidded eyes and a slight smirk; a look she had never seen him wear before, but it sent chills down her spine, "It would be in both of our best interests for you to stop reading."

"And why is that?" she asked coyly, her blood pulsing heat through her veins.

"Despite my inexperience, I am a man."

"A man that wrote a woman that he wanted to share her bed and experience every noise, every shiver, every subtle movement of her body," she spoke slowly, barely above a whisper.

Her words made his knees weak. He closed his eyes and bit his lip trying to keep himself together, "A man alone with a woman that is making it very difficult for him to remain a gentleman."

"And what makes him think she wants him to remain a gentleman?" The book fell to the floor as he pulled her in and kissed her.

His previous kisses had been gentle, sweet, and romantic; this was not the same. Whatever had been sparked was now a raging inferno. She could feel his heart race. His fingers twitched as he tried not to grip her dress too hard while he pressed his mouth firmly to hers. Fire raced through her body as she stepped forward and walked him backwards until he fell onto the bed pulling her down on top of him. He looked up at her wide-eyed. She sat up on his thighs, "I believe we've been in this position before, Admiral," she grinned down at him.

He reached up, pulled her to him, pushed himself up on the bed so his head rested on the pillows, then in one quick motion flipped them both so that she was beneath him, "Not this one," he grinned wickedly down at her. She smiled and giggled before grabbing his cravat and pulling him down to meet her mouth.

She titled her head and parted her lips begging him to deepen the kiss; a request he eagerly complied with; exploring the new sensations and growing bolder with each movement. She frosted his hair as she pulled it; a thin layer of ice spread across the back of his coat radiating out from her grasp. He supported himself with his right arm and ran his left hand down her side savoring the curves of her body. Her tongue slid against his causing him to moan into her mouth and grip the cloth that covered her hip as the wave of desire rushed down his body.

Steam rose as their lips parted. He trailed hot kisses along her jaw and down her neck, "Hans," she breathed as he continued along her bare shoulder. The sound of his name on her lips thrilled him and he would do anything to make her say it that way again. He kissed back up the same trail and nibbled on the edge of her ear.

Her mind ventured to the fantasy she had fought against the night of the storm; she wanted to feel the touch of his unshielded skin, "Gloves."

"What?" he looked confused.

She sat up forcing him to do the same, "Your gloves," she took one hand, kissed the tips of his fingers, and began to slowly remove the glove with her teeth.

His eyes grew large, "Oh, no, no, no," he pulled his hand away and straightened its covering, "I…uhh…well…" he colored as he faltered, "feel very vulnerable and…uhm…exposed without them." She pushed him back down on the bed and straddled his waist. An intoxicating sense of power welled up from within as she looked him over knowing she was entirely responsible for the current state of this powerful, brilliant man. Admiral Westerguard, a man dozens of kingdoms were indebted to; Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, the man who had tried and almost succeeded in taking her crown now lie willingly beneath her, his normally immaculate appearance disheveled: his lips red from her mouth, his cheeks flushed, his cravat crooked, his tailcoat partially off one shoulder, his shirt wrinkled, several buttons of his waistcoat had come undone, and his hair was tousled from her fingers; she had never wanted him more. She returned her lips to his and pushed her tongue back into his mouth.

It took far more effort than he had ever imagined not to buck his hips against her, or pull her down against his body. She could feel the varying pressure of his arms on her back as he fought his body for control. She left his lips, kissed his chin, his jaw, gently moved the collars of his shirt and coat, and softly kissed his neck, "Queen Elsa, what are you…"

"Please, just Elsa," her smoky voice whispering in his ear caused his mind to go blank. He tilted his head back as she returned her mouth to his neck and moved his collars again. He gasped and she felt his body tremble as she lightly sunk her teeth in and flicked her tongue against his skin. She pulled away with a smirk and lightly kissed his nose, "I need to go freshen up for dinner. You may wish to do the same," she slid off the bed and turned to smile and wink at him before shutting the door behind her.

"Hans Gregor Albrecht Brynjolf Westerguard!" Hans' eyes widened and the colour drained from his face as his mother yelled his full name. Klaus, Gemma, Kristoff, Anna, Rapunzel, Eugene, and Elsa all turned their attention away as his mother confronted him, "What is that?" she demanded pointing at the collar of his tailcoat.

"My collar?" he asked confused.

"No, what's on your collar," she grabbed his coat and pulled him down to take a closer look at his collar, "lipstick," she gasped as she saw the mark beneath his shirt that accompanied it, "is that a bite mark!?" His skin was as red as his hair when his mother's voice drew the attention of most of the people who remained in the dining hall.

"Mother, please," he begged in a whisper.

"Sailor or not, you are a prince and I raised you better than this!"

Hans was mortified, "mother, this is not the place for this."

"Oh, don't you dare give me a lecture on impropriety with a bite mark under your collar! Your father will deal with you tomorrow," she said in a dark voice before storming off.

"I…I'm going to retire for the evening," Hans practically sprinted from the room trailed by his guards. Elsa stood stunned by Queen Adelaide's rage.

The look on her sister's face told Anna all she needed to know about the origin of the marks on the retreating prince. "Can I talk to you for a second?" Anna said as she drug Elsa away from the group, "What just happened?"

"I don't know!"

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know!"

"Now might be a good time to figure it out. You know, before Anders gets to him tomorrow."

"Well, I see you managed to get beyond kissing like you're fourteen," Eugene laughed.

"Then why am I being treated as though I am still a prepubescent youth?"

"I can't really help you there; never had parents."

Hans was about to make a retort about that not necessarily being a bad thing, but thought better of it, "How did she even see it from that distance? My collar is black!" he sighed, "I supposed it doesn't really matter now."

"Got any more hidden under there?" Eugene grinned and pulled Hans' collar.

Hans rolled his eyes and shrugged him off, "No, no clothing was removed."

"I didn't think so; she's a lady and you're terrified."

"And you weren't?"

"Hey, we're not talking about me here."

He decided he didn't wish to pursue that any further; the less he knew about Eugene's copulatory experiences the better, "I'm already a prisoner, what else could they impose upon me?"

"I don't think you really want to find out."

The next morning Hans lie on the bed staring up at the canopy, waiting. He knew it was only a matter of time before his father came in and dealt out some sort of punishment. A soft knock roused him from his dreadful musings, "Yes," he yelled not bothering to get up.

"I'm so sorry," Elsa entered and closed the door behind her.

He sat up and smiled at her, "Don't apologize. I now know to check my collar before I leave," he laughed and she blushed; "besides no matter what my father does when he gets here, it will have been worth it."

Her face lit up, "He hasn't been here yet?"

"No, I haven't seen either of them since last night."

"Good, we can fix this. Your mother, the guards, and you are the only ones who know I was here, and you and I are the only ones that know what actually happened," she began to pace, "while your mother can be absent minded she's no fool. She will speak to the guards and the truth will become obvious soon if we don't offer another explanation. If your parents know the truth, I doubt we will be left alone together until after we are wed."

"I see your point," he tried to keep a straight face, but hearing her speak of marriage elated him.

"Stand up," she walked to him and hugged him paying close attention to where her mouth hit, "perfect," she stepped back, "The lipstick got on your collar when I embraced you."

"And the other mark you left?" he asked with a roguish grin.

"I doubt it's still visible," she moved his collars and breathed a sigh of relief, "It's gone. You can claim it was never there, that it must have been a trick of the light."

"That could work. Let's just hope my father is willing to doubt my mother's visual perception."

Elsa left with Anders, worried to rouse suspicion if she appeared to be there for another purpose other than to clear Hans' name. She wasn't sure if the king actually believed the story or if he just wanted to, but either way he assured them he would explain things to Adelaide.