Beauty and the Beast(20)

“May I touch your face, Sir?” she asked quietly.

The Beast dropped heavily to all fours, and now his head was even with hers. The lion’s mane flowed out from around his face, thick and as vibrant as if it had been spun from gold. His heavy brow felt warm, very warm, or perhaps her hands were chilled.

“That feels nice,” he said, as softly as a lover.

Belle stroked his head, bringing her fingers down to his fangs. They were clean and white, and terribly sharp. If she touched the tip of that long canine tooth, would it prick her, would she bleed? She paused, unwilling to get bitten.

“I won’t harm you,” he repeated. “You have nothing to fear. I have full control over my mouth, my teeth. You could even kiss my lips, and feel nothing but comfort there.”

Belle smiled at him, surprised by the Beast’s gentleness. It was a bit hard to wrap her head around the idea that he wasn’t some wild animal that couldn’t be trusted.

Could she really kiss the Beast?

She moved in, her lips hovering close to his. But fear took hold again. “You said today was about touching. Touching alone.”

“So be it,” he said. Did he sound disappointed?

Before she changed her mind, Belle walked around to the side of the Beast, stroking his silky fur as she went. At some point below his waist, covered now by a pair of custom-tailored pants that only fairies could have provided, his upper torso transformed into that of a wolf-like lower body.

The long, sleek legs, the powerful hind paws, and the tail. Would he wag his tail if he was pleased? Belle stifled a burst of nervous laughter, and the Beast growled. She felt it vibrate through his massive body.

“Oh!” she gasped, and stepped back.

“You’re laughing at me,” he said.

He sounded hurt. How could a small laugh from a small girl have hurt the feelings of someone so powerful?

“No, no I wasn’t,” she said. Belle wasn’t even sure if it was a fib or not. Looking at him now, the idea of laughing at such a beast made absolutely no sense.

“What if I had you strip, and I touched every inch of you, and I laughed?” he asked. “What if I laughed at your body?” It didn’t seem like a threat, rather, it seemed like he really was wounded by her reaction.

“I’m nervous, Beast, Sir, that is all. I had a silly thought and the laugh escaped me. I wouldn’t dare laugh at you.”

“Strip.”

Belle stepped back, her heel bumping up against the doorframe. “Sir, please.”

“Remove your clothes, or I will remove them for you.”

“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

“Let’s see how you feel, when you are the subject of inspection.”

What could she do? She could run, she could tell him no. But he was bigger, and he would win. He was a Beast. There was no reason to make this harder on herself.

“I apologize, Sir,” she said. “I truly do.”

“Well, then?” he asked, nodding his head toward her gown.

“Perhaps the fairies could provide assistance,” she said.

They did. Her gown dropped to her feet like a puddle, the secret diary she’d stored in the folds hitting the marble floor with a thud, but the Beast didn’t appear to notice. With renewed courage, she stepped out of the fabric, naked. Naked in the sunlight, exposed completely to her Beast, her Master.

The Beast circled her like a wolf circling its prey. Belle closed her eyes, taking calming breaths. He wouldn’t harm her, he had promised. If he wished to, he could. So there was nothing to do but leave her fate up to Providence.

“You can laugh at me if you must, Beast,” she whispered. “I know you want to.”

“No, Beauty. There is nothing I see to laugh at. You are beautiful, and fully deserving of your name.”

Belle opened her eyes. He was so close, mere millimeters away.

“Touch me?” she asked.

Why did he arouse her so? The memory of what he’d done to her on her first night in the cell, when she’d parted her thighs for him and welcomed his touch on her wet heat—despite her fear—came back to her so hard she moaned.

“You want me to touch you?” he asked, as if in disbelief. “You’re not afraid?”

“I’m not afraid, Sir.”

Touch me. Touch me there, once more.

He reached out and picked her up, cradling her in his arms like a babe. Even though she was now quite high off the marble floor, she had no fear of falling, or of him dropping her. She felt…safe.

Safe in the arms of the Beast.

The Beast trailed his fingers across her cheek, his touch so sweet and gentle, she sighed with pleasure.

“What were you laughing at, little one?” he asked. “Tell me.”