Page 17 of The Beast & His Beauty

An unsolicited groan escapes me, and I do not know if it came from the beast or me as my cock hardens, wanting and needing more of her. Of those sweet gasps.

I allow myself another inch, my fingertips meeting the softness of her belly over the hard line of her hips. Elle takes shallow breaths, her pulse racing underneath her skin. I can hear her heart beating as well, as loudly as if it were in my own body. I can hear her dress moving over her body as my hand changes the way the fabric hangs. I can even hear the way her feet meet the floor, not quite steady, but not quite unsteady either.

I do not trust myself to speak. I have determined that Elle must see the castle and agree to stay before she can see me, and to speak aloud would expose more of me than she is possibly ready to witness. I cannot risk going against my plan, though I want to murmur words into her ear. I want to give her an answer to her plea.

I move my hand another few inches until my entire palm is against her belly. The muscles flutter as she breathes, waiting.

As I am waiting.

Though I do not know what I am waiting for. I am no longer waiting for the beast to lay his claim to Elle. I am waiting to know my own mind, but there is little to know when the urges of my body are so strong.

I crave her madly. It is in an animal way. I want to take her to the floor and push her dress up around her waist and have her quench both our thirsts, the beast and mine. I want to be buried inside her. I want to give her as much pleasure as her body can handle and help her to the ground.

If I stand here another moment, that is the course I will take and nothing will be able to stop me once I’ve started.

Before Elle can move again, I pull back, creating space between us, and lift her into my arms. It is an entirely different experience from carrying her while she was sleeping.

Elle’s hands lift as though to remove the blindfold. I gather her tighter in my arms in a silent command to stop.

Breathing fast, Elle freezes then lowers her hands.

What would I see if she had gone against my implicit orders and removed the blindfold? How would her eyes look? Would they be filled with fear or would they be dark with the desire I can scent all over her skin?

I think it would be desire, and it pulls me to her almost unbearably.

I do not lower my mouth to hers or walk her back toward the bedroom. I do not put her on the floor to have her here. I master my own body first, ignoring the surging need in my cock, and move through the threshold.

The tips of Elle’s slippered toes brush against the doorframe as we go, and then we are descending, Elle still and pliant in my arms. She does not fight me and does not seem to have any mind to. That could be her desire, or it could be the magic, or it could be both. I make no judgment. It is not the time to make a judgment. It is only time to move before the beast takes control again.

She stays that way, her scent filling my every breath, as I carry her downstairs to execute my plan without deviation.

ELLE

The feel of the beast’s body against mine is a heady one. Being held in his arms is no less so, and I feel a wave of what is almost like dizziness but more powerful as he walks down the stairs. Lust blinds me. Not the blindfold. Without my vision, I take note of every sound and every feeling. The strength of his arms around my body is like nothing I have ever felt…

Save for once.

The beast is muscled in a corded way I would only expect from a fearsome animal, but he has the shape of a man. I suppose this is what happens when a prince is sacrificed to a beast.

And it is almost as if the form of a man has been perfected in the beast’s body. I wonder if this was done by the magic of the curse and the sacrifice as well. There is so much magic all around that I cave to it. The magic always extended beyond the wall, but in this place there is far more of it, and it is far more palpable. It’s gentle yet intoxicating, much like the beast.

There are some parts of it that I cannot seem to shake off, although I do not want to. Being surrounded by magic is better than being surrounded by fear. I will accept the fine furnishings and the feeling of safety even if it is coupled with an intense desire that I am not sure is entirely my own.

We reach the bottom of the stairs. The sound of the beast’s footsteps change on the floor. Heavier, more foreboding even. We must now be in a larger hallway or a longer space. I try to listen harder, but my attention is divided between the solid, warm sensation of his body against mine and the sound of his footsteps. They mingle together in my mind until neither one is clear and both are hidden by the beat of his heart.

I do not know.

He turns, his hips shifting subtly under mine and his footsteps making a new sound on the floor. The air shifts once again. Whatever room we’re in must be very large.

Then he bends to lower me to the floor, and instinctively I grip his muscular arms and then catch myself, releasing my hold on him and grateful he does not respond. My heart beats faster, and I swallow thickly at the change in position.

He holds me by the waist until I am balanced on the comfortable slippers once more. I still under his touch, understanding that he does not want me to remove the blindfold. It follows that he probably does not want me to move beyond his reach until he gives me some sign or command.

The beast held me gently on the way downstairs, and he does not touch me roughly now. His fingers trace a path up my spine to the nape of my neck and linger there for a few moments. Goosebumps gather in the wake of his touch. Once again, I’m trapped with the constant thoughts of lust.

To my surprise, he works at the tie of the blindfold, loosening it until it falls away from my eyes. The silky cloth drapes over my shoulder and hangs there for a few moments until I understand that he wants me to take it.

I do, twisting it between my hands. He could use it to tie me, I suppose, but he hasn’t done so yet. Adrenaline rages inside of me. My breathing comes in short gasps.