Or perhaps Love Is an Open Door, Kristanna-style.
I’m going to a special hell for doing this. Kristanna smut under the cut.
Ever since the day she saw him in the barn, his back braced against bales of hay, strong hand wrapped around his cock and her name on his lips, caressing himself to completion, Anna had been ready to cross the boundary from her innocent world into Kristoff’s experienced one.
She knew he had that sort of worldly knowledge. Unfortunately for him, he was recognized by one of the town’s…coquettes…while in Anna’s presence, which led to a very awkward explanation of certain “coming of age” traditions to which he’d been subjected.
It didn’t matter, though.
Only this moment, wrapped in his arms, tongues tangling as their hands explore newly bared flesh, matters. Anna knows she has arrived at the boundary, that she is about to cross into a new world. She also knows there is no going back.
She enthusiastically explores his body, tracing first her hands, then her lips over his large and muscular frame. She’s inordinately pleased to find him covered in a smattering of soft, blonde hairs in most places, the hair across his chest and down his belly being thickest. Downy as a duckling, but not “hairy” as she’d heard some men could be. With his help, she learns of his most sensitive areas and what touches he enjoys most. Boldly, she takes him in her hands, marveling at the contradiction of velvet over steel as she slides her hands along his length, then reveling in his pleased reaction.
For his part, Kristoff is carefully restrained. He is big, and while Anna is strong of heart she is tiny and delicate compared to him. Her sighs and moans of pleasure are a song to him as he guides her through this new world of sensation and pleasure. He maps each of her freckles with his fingers, lips, and tongue; he designs and names new constellations, forever known only to the two of them. The strong band of his arm supports her as he lifts her to him to gently taste her nipples while her hands twist and comb through his blonde locks.
Together they maneuver until Anna lay on her back in the soft straw of the loft, Kristoff above her and resting his weight on his elbows, his hips cradled gently against her own.
"Kristoff, please…" she breathes. She feels when he drops his head to her neck, pressing gentle kisses against her pulse.
"Anna," he begins, bringing himself to look into her eyes. "Are you sure? I love you, no matter what. Please don’t feel that you have to do this."
That L-word. Neither had even said it until now, and it meant so much to Anna that he would say it now, before they made the final leap together, that her heart nearly burst. They knew without saying so, of course, but to hear it from his lips was divine.
Cerulean eyes met tawny, and, placing her hand softly upon his cheek, she spoke. “I want this, with you. Only with you. I love you, Kristoff.”
The loving smile that appears upon his face would remain with Anna for the rest of her life. He shifts, gently caressing her between her thighs with those thick fingers that earlier had pleasured and prepared her, though some instinct told her that she could never truly be prepared. Positioning himself at her slick entrance, his eyes lock on hers once more.
She brought his mouth down to hers, and as their lips meet he begins pushing himself inside, inch by inch.
Anna knows there will be pain, but she is not prepared for the burning, pinching, and stretching sensations that she is experiencing. Kristoff is caressing her face with his fingertips, gently kissing and reassuring her, until he is buried to the hilt within her.
"How do you feel?" he asks her.
"A bit uncomfortable. And full," she responds sheepishly.
He smiles gently. “It will go away, I promise, and things will get *much* better.”
"I know it will. I trust you," she whispers.
Kristoff begins to move gently within her, his eyes fixed upon hers. At first Anna’s discomfort continues, and she tightly grips his strong shoulders, but soon the pain begins to fade and, as Kristoff deepens his thrusts, is replaced with a pleasure totally beyond her ability to describe. Her head falls back and Kristoff takes advantage, dropping his head down to taste her throat.
As they find their rhythm and their fervor increases, Kristoff guides Anna’s legs up and around his waist. In this moment, completely enveloped by him, Anna has never felt more feminine, protected, and loved. This man, this grumpy, brave, socially-inept, selfless man, had chosen *her*. Awkward Anna, the “spare.” He loves her just as she is and gives of himself to her without reservation.
"Kristoff," she pants, sensing that she is reaching a crescendo. His head snaps up to meet her gaze, their eyes dark with desire, their cheeks flushed. Their mouths come together as their bodies move frantically, chasing that inevitable finale.
"Anna," he gasps between kisses. "Anna, Anna, Anna," her name continues to spill chant-like from his lips.
Her arms move from their place wrapped around his neck and shoulders and slip down his back to grasp his firm buttocks, urging him on and meeting him thrust-for-thrust.
One moment Anna is wrapped in Kristoff’s arms, the next she is falling over a precipice and into a sea of stars, feeling pleasure and love permeating her very soul. She hears Kristoff gasping her name, feels a deep warmth spreading through her womb as he finds his release deep within her.
Sometime later she returns to herself, finding herself surrounded by the smell of clean straw and Kristoff’s warm embrace. He is smiling down at her, his thumb caressing her cheek absently.
"Still with me?" he asks gently.
Anna doesn’t know how to describe this feeling of release, of new-found understanding. She simply nods, smiling, and basks in the warmth of their shared love.
Chuckling softly, Kristoff pulls a few bits of straw from Anna’s hair (she imagines she’ll be spending quite some time later getting it all out) and then tucks her against her chest. He grabs his large coat from the straw nearby and pulls it over them. By the time he has them both comfortable and protected enough for a much-needed nap, Anna is already asleep, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
I can’t believe I just…smutted. Can I even verb that?