Want was forbidden to come here, but she came anyway.

After shedding her clothes, she laid on her back in the pale drifts and called to her lover, her voice as high and tremulous as birdsong.

Summoned, Ardor arrived on quiet steps as the snow swirled, powder dusting his dark skin. Piece by piece he undressed, meditatively, heat rising from his flesh in waves.

Want folded her legs up against her chest, revealing her slick chasm. With a single stroke, Ardor entered.

The trees shook. The rocks groaned. And when they came, both of them pulsed with a heat so fierce that the sun tossed with envy in its slumber.

All around them, the snow melted to slush, to water, rushing down the mountainside to flood the valley below.