Page 9 of The Beast & His Beauty
“You’ll have some time to get to know him.” Her response to his placating tone is only a grief-stricken sob. “When you’re my age you’ll understand, Elle. He’ll take care of you.”
Some time passes with silence. I wait with bated breath. The beast pushes forward with impatience.
Quiet but steady steps, followed by the creak of a door closing, suggests her father has left her alone in the room. She continues to cry, although now her sobs are nearly silent and interrupted by shaking breaths. After a long moment of silence, I hesitate to look but the urge is too strong and I cave to temptation.
The dimly lit fire casts small shadows across the room. I quickly make out what looks to be a rather small bedroom. A cot in the corner catches my eye. I make out her small form huddled under a blanket. Her body shakes gently with her sobs.
My heart clenches in pain. Doubt plagues my conscience. For the first time in years I feel sympathy and compassion. It’s paralyzing. Everything in my being warns me; I need to ease her pain. Her pain is mine, the thought comes from the beast. Surely it’s only so she’ll be more willing to stay with me. To do as I please. If I make her content then she will be in my debt. Hopefulness and delight replace those unwanted dreadful emotions. Since she’s unhappy here, I can take advantage of her situation and use it to keep a hold on her. A wicked grin pulls at my lips as my plan takes form.
We’ll wait for her to sleep. The beast nods in agreement.
Then we’ll make our move.
ELLE
I’m not aware at first, there’s no tingle of distress or any alarm whatsoever. I drowsily yawn as I stretch my body, completely unaware. Although, I’m warmer than usual, more relaxed even. As though I’ve slept through a million pleasant dreams.
The first hint is one of surprise: the winter cold hasn’t crept into my cot while I slept. A small smile plays on my lips as I sink deeper into comfort. I dreamed of his touch again, but this time it felt more real. My pulse quickens and the heat intensifies. His masculine pine scent is all I can smell, his low growl of desire is all I can hear, and the deep rumble of his chest against my back makes me feel nothing but lust. With my lips parted in desire and my mind lost in fantasy, I arch my neck and clench my thighs in the memory of his teeth nipping my flushed skin.
Instantly, I’m paralyzed, my body rigid. My eyes widen in shock, very much awake and aware that some realm of my dream is very much a reality. With a panicked racing heart, I’m as still as can be as the terror sweeps through me. His warm breath tickles down my neck and the moment I question whether it’s him, there’s a sting of a bite on my earlobe.
My heart races in my chest, so loudly I’m sure he can hear. I’m very much not in my own room. The wealth that surrounds me is not mine nor is this comfort.
The least of my problems is knowing there’s a hot, massive, hard body—definitely a man— pressed against my back. And I’m no longer clothed. I gasp as I feel his hot, hard cock against my upper thigh. My breath hitches and my pulse scatters.
My body seizes in fear at the thought of what he may have done. Clenching my thighs, I don’t feel different. The small movement makes him stir behind me and I struggle to remain calm.
Slowly, ever so slowly, I peer down my body with minimal movement and see the remnants of dried fluids smeared on my stomach and on the sheets. He marked me…with…his come.
It doesn’t take more than a quick look around to know exactly who I’m with.
The beast.
It’s nearly too much as my body trembles and a small part of me screams I’ve done this. I never stopped dreaming and fantasizing. I willed this to be. With a heavy inhale, his warmth plays at the back of my neck, sending goosebumps down my body.
It’s a weak attempt, but I try to pull the down comforter that’s wrapped around my hips up and over my body, but it doesn’t budge.
Quickly, yet as calmly as I can, I turn away from the chiseled chest and wrap my arms around my body in a pathetic attempt to guard myself. A chill from the air replaces the warmth I’ve felt at my back with the movement. He doesn’t attempt to pull me back and I wonder if he’s asleep.
If there’s a chance of escape.
With a concoction of emotions—fear, anxiousness, and hope—I take in my surroundings, my eyes darting quickly around the expansive room. Velvety thick curtains, such a dark red they’re nearly black, line the window. A plush, deep-red rug with Parisian patterns lies on the stone floor. The walls are decorated with beautiful scenic paintings and a large old intricate mirror that’s been cracked and tarnished with patina.
For a moment, I doubt my initial assumption. Glancing at the bed, his large foot is pressed deep into the mattress over the comforter, preventing me from shielding my body. My heart lurches and I swallow my cry for help. Human foot. It’s not the beast.
Crawe.
My heart stills and a sob rocks my body. No. No, no, no, no.
An overwhelming sense of defeat and betrayal makes my heart slow and my blood run cold. He’s taken me. The memory of yesterday hits me with a force that makes me bury my head in my arms and turn away from the hard body molded behind mine. My body trembles. No! How could Father let him take me?
Betrayal forces tears to prick my eyes, but they stop as a large hand wraps around my upper arm, rolling me back into his hard chest. As my body trembles, the rough hand moves over my stomach and brushes against my breasts.
My nipples harden at the gentle touch and my pussy clenches. I instantly recognize the feel of his skilled hands. The beast. Heaving in a breath, my mind is tormented.
I stare in the mirror, searching for any sign, but I can’t see him. This isn’t a home in a village, this is the castle. It must be. It’s far too large.
Even still, I war with who it is behind me. Whose bed I’m in. Staring down at the hand, much larger than Crawe’s, hairier as well. Far more masculine and hardened with work the former assumption would never do.