Where The Ice Gives Way Chapter 100

**Charlotte**

Blake hovers above me after laying me gently onto the bed, his weight braced on forearms that tremble just slightly with the effort of holding himself back. His clothes are still on, shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, jeans rough against my bare skin. At the same time, I lie completely naked beneath him. The contrast makes me feel extremely vulnerable, but his gaze is so warm it chases every chill away. He kisses me again slowly, like he’s still afraid I might vanish. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, tracing the lines of me with quiet reverence. “Charlotte,” he whispers, voice rough. “Is this still okay? We don’t have to—”

“It’s okay,” I say softly, reaching up to cup his face. My thumb brushes over his cheekbone. “I want this. I want you.”

He searches my eyes for a long moment before his hand slides slowly down my side, hesitant fingers brushing over bare skin. He pauses at my hip, waiting, and I arch just a little in silent answer. Blake exhales shakily and lets his palm settle there. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His eyes drift lower, then lift back to mine, flushed with awe. “So damn beautiful, Lotty. I can’t believe you’re letting me see you like this.”

Heat floods my face. I feel exposed in the best way—cherished, not judged. My hands move to his shirt, fingers a little shaky. The buttons fight me for a second, and I let out a nervous laugh. Blake smiles, small, crooked, just as nervous, and helps me, shrugging the fabric off his shoulders. Moonlight catches on every line of muscle, the faint scars from hockey and shifting. I let my palms settle on his bare chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart beneath my touch. 

Blake leans down and kisses me again, deeper this time, but still so gentle it makes my chest ache. His hand moves to the button of his jeans. He hesitates, forehead resting against mine. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he says against my lips. “Anytime. I mean it.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I don’t want to stop.” He nods and carefully works the button open, the zipper following with a soft sound that feels loud in the quiet room. I watch him push the denim down his hips, the awkward little shuffle of fabric and legs tangling in sheets making us both smile. We share small, breathless laughs that ease some of the tension. His boxers go next, and then he’s as bare as I am, settling between my legs.

Now there’s nothing between us except heat and anticipation. Blake braces himself on one elbow, his free hand stroking my thigh, slow and soothing. “I’ve never done this before,” he admits quietly, voice barely above a whisper. His ears are flushed. “Not… all the way. With anyone.” A soft smile curves my lips. Relief and affection mix inside me until I feel like I might float. I cup his face again, pulling him down so our foreheads touch. “It’s a first for me too,” I tell him. “We’re doing this together.”

Something bright and tender breaks across his face. He kisses me, taking away my breath again, before he pulls back. He reaches toward the bedside table, fumbling in the drawer until he finds a condom. He holds it up between us, a little sheepish. “I want to do this right,” he says. “Keep you safe.” I nod, heart thudding. “Okay.” He tears the packet open with his teeth, then immediately looks embarrassed about it. I bite my lip to keep from giggling. Blake notices and grins, the tension breaking again into something sweeter. The next part is clumsy in the most beautiful way. He rolls it on while trying not to look too awkward, his hands shaking slightly. I pretend not to notice, my own fingers tracing soothing circles on his shoulders. When he’s done, he settles back over me, elbows braced, eyes locked on mine. “Still okay?” he asks again, voice thick.

“More than okay,” I whisper. I slide my hands up his back, feeling the muscles shift under my palms. “I want you inside me, Blake.”

He makes a low sound, half groan, half sigh, and kisses me deeply. One hand slips between us, gentle fingers exploring. The first touch makes me gasp softly against his mouth. He’s patient, circling slowly, learning what makes my breath hitch. Every time I moan quietly or press closer, he listens, adjusting until the ache inside me turns liquid and warm. When he finally lines himself up, the blunt pressure is both terrifying and thrilling. He pauses, breathing hard, forehead against mine once more. “Charlotte… if it hurts, tell me. I’ll stop.”

“I will,” I promise. “Just… go slow.”

He nods and begins to push forward—inch by careful inch. The stretch burns a little… It’s unfamiliar and intense. I tense, fingers digging into his shoulders, and Blake freezes immediately. “Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, kissing my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth. “I’ve got you. Just breathe.” I do, forcing air into my lungs. The burn eases into a deep, full pressure that makes my head spin. He’s barely halfway in, and already I feel so connected to him it’s overwhelming. “You feel…” His voice cracks. “God, Lotty, you feel incredible. So tight. So perfect.” I let out a shaky laugh that turns into a soft whimper as he rocks forward another inch. “You’re so big,” I whisper, half embarrassed, half in awe. Blake huffs a quiet laugh against my neck. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I tilt my hips experimentally, and we both gasp at the new angle. “Keep going.”

He moves slowly, so slowly, until our hips finally meet. We stay like that for a long moment, joined completely, breathing together, hearts hammering against each other. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, not from pain but from the sheer intimacy of it. This is Blake. My mate. Inside me. Loving me with every careful breath.

He kisses the tears away, murmuring soft nonsense—how beautiful I am, how good I feel, how he’s never felt anything like this. His hips make tiny, shallow movements, testing, letting me adjust. Every small shift sends sparks through me, pleasure beginning to thread through the discomfort. “Still okay?” he asks again, voice strained with the effort of staying still. I smile up at him, dazed and glowing. “Perfect. You’re perfect.”

Blake’s expression softens into something so full of love it steals my breath. He lowers his head and kisses me slowly, deeply, and reverently, while his body rocks gently against mine in a rhythm as old as time and as new as this moment. I’ve never imagined Blake to be so vulnerable as he is in this moment with me. All the cockiness and the playful teasing are gone. This is him. This is my mate.