No Monsters in the Snow

There was no future apart now. If he lived, I would live. If he died, I would die.

A point of no return such as this warranted something more profound, I'm sure, but my brain and mouth couldn't travel at the speed of emotion and I blurted instead the first thought that had been waiting in the queue.

"You can speak," I said. "English." I could have laughed at my own slowness, but I blundered on. "Why didn't you say anything? To any of us? This whole time? Why did you let them —"

"I speak, Roksana, when there is something worth saying."

If his first words hadn't been enough to silence my babbling, these proved plenty. I had to remember to close my own mouth.

He smoothed a tangle of my hair back over my forehead then, and gave me a mournful smile that would have sent cliffs crashing into the ocean before it had frozen along with everything else.

Whatever he wanted, I'd give him all of it. A last request. It was only fair. I think he saw this on my face, because he spoke again, putting both of our thoughts out there into sweet, terrible reality.

"I would like ... to love you. Before they kill me."

His grip was the only thing keeping me upright now. My heartbeat crashed in my ears and I worked to separate my tongue from the roof if my mouth, to give his precious words the response the deserved.

"Keval ..."

It was all I had. Any words I could think of weren't enough. Instead, I threw myself against him in a desperate kiss. My body could speak where language failed.

My worries about having to stand fell aside as we sank down onto the ruined conveyor belt. The portion of the ramp he'd cleared of snow met my back. It was cold, but not the sort of cold that could kill if I lay in it too long. Here, at least, I would live. And I had a wall of hot flesh above me now.

I was squirming beneath him, shoes getting traction on the wet rubber underfoot to help me thrust my hips to meet the erection wedged up against my crotch. I needed forgiveness for what I did next, but I was beyond restraint.

My hand plunged between us, straight past the waistband of his pants and wrapped freezing fingers around the cock he'd been grinding between my legs.

A brief grunt of shock spilled into my mouth and an involuntary jerk of his hips were all the reproach I received, however, before he slid his own left hand down to cover mine, encouraging my icy strokes, exploring the novelty of my grip on his flesh.

He would've been hot to the touch under normal circumstances, and here, with my body pushing the limits of its temperature endurance, stroking the blazing flesh was like brushing against raw pain with every pass. I refused to stop, though. This morning might be my last to feel anything, and I would make myself hurt if that's what touching him meant.

I reached further to gather up a warm handful of his balls, rolled the soft skin with my fingers, drew a precious few quiet moans from him with a series of slow, gentle tugs. The reactions from him, the heat from his chest, from his mouth still on mine, all had me paying zero attention to where his hands were moving.

If there had been anywhere for me to go, I would have jumped. As it was, I launched a startled little mmph into our kiss while my thighs made the executive decision to butterfly further apart. His hand had found its way to the one part of me somehow still warm and fingertips traced the contours of what he wanted through the heavy fabric of my jeans. I pushed my mound up into his massaging hand, humping without a shred of grace into his touch.

Our mutual frenzy of groping hands and devouring mouths had reached that critical mass, there on the ramp, where certain tolerances are exceeded, tensions need relief, and actions become rash.

I felt his fingers jerking the waist of my jeans down over my hips, sharp, uncoordinated tugs coming on one side and then the other. He broke our kiss to look down and focus, and my hands had left off their fondling to be out of his way. Keval and I had never been alone in a room before today, but somehow we needed no conversation to understand the deft rearrangement of limbs required to get us where we wanted.

My hips leapt up with a flex of muscle and I sucked a hiss between my teeth the moment my bare ass met the freezing ramp. I could've sworn I heard a low chuckle from him at this, but he didn't slow for a second. With more tugging, and the final flip of a shoe away from an already numb foot, he shucked my right pant leg down and off, and dragged the left one after it halfway to my knee. One entire leg was now bare to the elements.

Fffffuuck! So cold! Holy shit!

My knees snapped in to clutch at his sides when the cold air hit me, my body reacting to make itself small, protect its warmth. Here he circled an arm around my lower back and lifted me partially away from the icy touch of the ramp. This small measure of relief granted, my attention slid from the terrible cold to the heat pouring from between my legs.

My pussy was on display, raised up not just for the eyes of the man making it wet, but in all likelihood for the onlookers in the terminal now, as well.

You might be dead in a few minutes. Everyone in the universe could see it and it won't matter then.

As if in an answer to the summons of my own cynical thoughts, the engines I'd heard earlier came to a crescendo of approaching volume and then died. The rotating lub and blatt of running diesel equipment dissolved into a choking stretch of silence. Then, men were yelling. They were still far off, but their voices carried the unmistakable clipped tone of military order.

I went still and his eyes snapped up to mine. He'd heard it, too.

The calls of soldiers to the west meant a countdown now, though neither of us knew how much time remained on the clock.

He closed his eyes and gave a slow shake of his head, lips moving in some silent prayer or curse, before meeting my gaze again.

To say I was in a panic at that moment was to mention in bland tones that it might be chilly out. Keval, on the other hand, was a picture of calm.

He reached up to trace along my temple, my cheekbone, with the tips of his fingers. His touch ran down my throat, pausing to feel the flutter of my pulse where my neck and shoulder met. The half-smile on his lips made time irrelevant, at least while he looked at me that way.

I was beyond ready for him now. He'd shove those useless lab-issued pants out of the way, line us up, and split me in half with that thick cock I'd been pulling at just moments ago.

When he hoisted me, hips first, by twin handfuls of ass away from the ramp, my fantasy world couldn't shift gears fast enough.

What is he ...?

His eyes were on my pussy only a split second before his mouth took their place. Liquid heat closed over me and I bucked against the sensation without thinking. Fingers sank further into the meat of my backside at this, and my weight rested half in his palms and half on my shoulders and neck, my body angled in a steep line up into his attentions.

"Keval!" I gasped for coherence in the glare of sun on snow, the shock of pleasure jangling between my thighs.

"Keval, there's no time! They're coming! We —"

"Shh, Roksana," he said, "Let me do this."

He broke away only long enough to insist I allow him this one thing, and then dove straight back in, leaving no time for debate.

I couldn't tell you now if it was the impending danger, the people watching from the terminal, or maybe just him. Him and that fucking effect he's had on me since day one. Either way, my admonition about time running out was unneeded.

An orgasm ripped out of me in the sharp, naked cold of morning with a speed and violence I'd never known. From shoulders to knees, my body leapt up in a stiff arc, jolted by unseen electricity. The instant, guttural cry that tore from my lungs was louder by far than any of the calls from the soldiers moving into position around us.

He made me ride it, made me give him everything. And I did. I became something pure and blinding. A base-level force with no identity.

My legs flopped and jerked over his shoulders. The sounds I made came from no language, just a primal explosion of being. I saw nothing. Was nothing.

It might have been ten seconds. It might have been a day and a half. But when I could hear again, I sobered right up. The flat click of firearm components sliding into place will do that to you.

Oh fuck. It's happening. We're going to die.

I was gasping for air, turning my head in a panic to see how many there were. As if a low number meant hope. As if it would take more than two bullets.

At least six of them, in standard white camo, had spread out to form a semi-circle around the belt loader. Around us. Six sights trained on us, six barrels pointed.

Shit. Shit.

Keval was calm. His features were relaxed in satisfaction and the smile he gave me now carried none of the sadness his earlier one had. He lowered me back to the ramp and, when those eyes held mine, I forgot to flinch at the cold.

"Why?" he said. "Why risk yourself?"

His hips were back between my legs now as he asked his soft questions.

"To show them," I said. "You're not what they think."

My hands were busy pulling at the waistband of his pants. He laughed a rueful laugh as his fingers slid between us, spreading my wetness, making the sensitive skin sting with cold as he went.

"They won't believe you."

It was probably true.

Blunt, male flesh nudged at my entrance, and I tilted my hips for him.

I could think of worse ways to die.

The vibrant edges of cold and hot clashed together in one forceful thrust. He was inside me. Big enough to hurt, but there was no slowing down.

The body is not meant to handle such an extreme temperature dichotomy at one time. I think I may have let out a mad cackle, just at the beginning, because my poor frazzled nervous system couldn't process the signals.

Everywhere we touched was fire, and everywhere we didn't the freezing air bit and constricted. Keval wasn't gentle; there wasn't time. And I wouldn't have asked for that, anyway. He gave me the fucking I'd been wanting for months. From the moment our eyes had locked together from opposite sides of Plexiglas. Opposite sides of a world.

I could hear what was in all likelihood a Special Forces team barking commands and responses now into walkies on all sides of us. The word 'assault' filtered through to my ears and, while my body was most eager to accept the broad shaft hammering up into it now, I saw in my mind's eye what Keval and I must look like to the soldiers.

Here they'd see a couple hundred pounds of dangerous muscle pinning some half-clothed, prone female to a defunct piece of ground equipment, plowing between her legs like the animal they thought he was. We were a picture confirming their worst fears.

I wasn't a screamer. Just a response to sex I didn't tend to have. But I could think of no other way to show them. To correct their grievous error in judgment. I gave my pleasure a voice.

"Keval."

He lurched into me with a grunt at the sound of his name.

"Keval."

I made my frozen legs cooperate enough to let me hook my knees up over his hips. I couldn't just lay there, dumbstruck. They could have no reason to question my consent. My body rocked to life, working to meet his thrusts as best it could.

"Please," I said. "Please, Keval. Fuck me."

Confidence and volume came into my urgings, welling bold and more reckless with every icy breath I could suck down into my lungs.

Something about me begging to be fucked seemed to snap him over into more serious territory, if such a thing were possible. His wild pistoning slowed. He opened his eyes to watch my face strain and flush as he filled me again and again. Each deliberate thrust jolted up my spine with the force of its impact. My pussy stretched in a perfect joyful ache around the slick girth of his cock, and my fingernails bit into the skin of his forearms.

"Fuck me."

He slammed home. I growled my demand again.

"Fuck me!"

Again.

"Do it, Keval! Please. I need it. FUCK ME!"

We were lost in each other. The soldiers were a fiction, for all the mind we paid them.

My tailbone grated over cracked, wet rubber, abrading my skin each time he pounded me down against the incline of the ramp. I couldn't connect myself with him enough. My body worked in a fever to follow his, wanting him in, in, and every time he drew out to thrust again, I chased him. There was no reason I could see that we should ever be separate again. I would live here, surrounding him, accepting his body into mine until time stopped.

Time, of course, was undeterred. His pumping, however, did come to a stop. He seated himself into me with a hiss and lowered his upper body down onto his elbows. Our faces were inches apart. I expected a kiss, but his lips burned over my cheek instead and slid back to graze at my ear. He had me trapped there, unmoving.

"Roksana ..." It was a breath, not even a whisper. "... thank you."

I told myself frozen tears would be a painful experience, and called on all my willpower to hold them back. I told myself the soldiers were well-trained, and it would probably be over in an instant. I told myself it had been worth it.

The tune of most climaxes ends in a grand crescendo. Bodies working faster and faster, flesh slapping together in the wild, uncoordinated rhythm of glee. It seemed only natural then, for Keval to take another route altogether.

There was no more pulling out, no more furious thrusting. He was as deep as he could go. I could feel my pulse in my clit, crushed as it was against his pubic bone. A spray of bullets might kill me any minute now, but the man I meant to save was going to torture me first.

It started with a roll of hips. Grinding. He gave me the length of his cock, rocking away just enough, using my pelvis as a fulcrum point to help him sink back in while every other part of our bodies remained joined.

It was madness.

I writhed under the treatment, making every attempt to claw my way toward release, doing my best to stir him back into more vigorous action. He was having none of it. He had the patience of a stone and held to his glacial pace, letting the slick lips of my pussy part and slide around his shaft. I felt his every curve and ridge with acute awareness.

My own movement, at least, was still under my control. I accepted the pressure of his body on mine. His contours made a heavy, welcome surface to rasp over the swollen bud of my clit. My desperation was obvious now, and I think he saw this. Each of his tortuous strokes now bottomed out with a delicious subtle thrust.

The first one was a pleasant surprise. The second one made me gasp. The third ... with the third I knew it was coming.

Murmurs of confusion rippled among the soldiers. Something dangerous had escaped the facility, and their orders had been to put it down like a dog. Now they faced a pair of lovers ignoring the awful cold, risking execution to know each other's pleasure. This was not the scenario handed down by command.

If their indecision could just hold them long enough ...

My body was seizing up; that telltale throb was insistent, growing.

"Keval."

There. The pressure. The friction. If I could hold it ...

Just like ...

Just like ...

"KEVAL!"

That.

"Unnnngh! YES!"

I don't know what words I screamed aloud and what was in my head. He barely had to move. With a twitch of his hips, he pulled the pin. My climax detonated.

"God, yes! Keval! Please! Fuck fuck FUCK!"

He exploded into motion, driving into me in a fury.

Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop.

"Please please please! Give it! Fuck mmff —"

He ate the last of my words, lapping them out of my mouth with a demanding tongue, licking the plate of my orgasm clean as the rhythm of his pounding fell into chaos.

I felt his cock swell with that last surge of hardness. He slammed in to the hilt, back arching, breaking away from our rough kiss.

"Roksana!"

He came.

Heedless of the cold, of soldiers, of our audience behind the windows of the terminal. He loosed every bit of himself — rage, love, seed, regret — all of it, inside me. I took him in and let everything back out in my cries, my desperate howling for them to recognize his humanity.

My hands clutched at his backside, holding him in, fingers warmed to prickling by increased blood flow. Our bodies jerked out the last blind twitches of achievement. Eyes came open. We saw each other.

"Keval."

"Roksana."

I was right. Tears below freezing are painful.

I blinked at the sting and he laughed, wiping them away across my temples. He was still balls-deep, and our collective moisture was about to become a new problem. And my legs were fucking freezing.

Things like putting pants back on, finding my discarded shoe, all blended into an irrelevant haze.

There were calls echoing around the circle of soldiers. Stand down. Fall back. A diesel transport fired back up and pushed its way through the snow.

We stood together on the ramp of the belt loader. Keval, the monster, planted himself between me and anyone in a uniform.

I felt his hand fumble for mine, and caught it, lacing our fingers together. The sun rose higher at our backs and it was not as cold now. I leaned into him, my eyes still wary of the soldiers.

"Is it over?"

"I doubt it."

The grip of our hands tightened in shared certainty.

"Just let them fucking try."

* * * *