The Ice King’s Weakness

Chapter Thirteen – The First Night

Elena’s POV

The door clicked shut behind us, and suddenly the world outside disappeared—no deadlines, no strategies, just the charged silence between us.

Adrian’s hands were everywhere—strong and certain—tracing the lines of my shoulders, pulling me closer until I could feel the steady beat of his heart against my own.

His eyes held mine, dark and intense, like he was memorizing every inch of me before he touched me again.

Slowly, deliberately, his lips brushed along my jaw, down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

I shivered, arching into him as his hands slid beneath my blouse, warm skin meeting cool fabric, the contrast making my breath hitch.

There was no rush—only the slow exploration of a dance we’d been circling since the moment we met.

Every touch was a question, every sigh an answer.

His fingers traced the curve of my waist, pulling me impossibly closer until I felt the heat of him pressing against me.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his voice rough with need.

“I want you,” I breathed, my voice trembling with anticipation and desire.

And with that, the night stretched out before us—filled with whispered promises, heated kisses, and the kind of connection that made the world outside fade into nothing but a distant memory.

Adrian’s POV

The moment she closed the door behind us, every calculated thought I’d clung to shattered like glass.

Elena was no longer just the consultant, the challenge, the beautiful distraction. She was everything.

Her skin beneath my fingertips was electric—soft and alive, making every part of me ache with a need I hadn’t dared to feel in years.

I traced the curve of her neck with my lips, tasting the warmth, memorizing the softness. Her breath hitched, and I knew I had her—completely.

But it wasn’t just desire.

It was something deeper. Something I’d spent so long denying—something fierce and terrifying: hope.

Hope that maybe, just maybe, this woman could break through the ice I’d built around myself.

And as she whispered those words—“I want you”—I felt the walls inside me begin to crumble.

I didn’t just want her.

I needed her.

And I was done pretending I could control what she’d already claimed: my heart.