Once, he was a prince. He could never be a prince again, but he could be a man. For Belle.
For Belle, he would do anything.
***
Back in the library, a note drifted from the air on a piece of paper, and landed neatly on top of the copy of Voltaire’s scandalous Candide that Belle had discovered. She picked the paper up in surprise, even as she noted that the sun was now low in the sky toward the west.
~~~
Please do me the honor of joining me in the East Wing sitting room. I am prepared to mark you, and I trust you are prepared to accept my invitation. As always, I shall never harm you, Beauty.
With Devotion,
The Beast
~~~
Belle folded the paper in half with trembling fingers and used it as a bookmark for her book. She set it down by the windowsill, not wanting to waste even a moment by putting it back on the shelf.
The Beast would never harm her. She could trust him. And so she went, without delay, to meet him. The castle was huge and maze-like, but sconces lit up along the walls as she walked, showing her the way.
The Beast wasn’t in the sitting room in the East wing when she arrived. What should she do with herself? What would the Beast prefer?
He liked it when she knelt for him, so she carefully arranged her gown around her and waited, kneeling, head bowed.
Belle could hear his heavy footsteps prowling closer before he spoke. “You are a sight to behold, Beauty.”
Raising her head to meet his gaze, Belle offered him a shaky smile. “Thank you, Sir.”
And then, as if he could see past her brave façade and into her heart, he added, “You needn’t be afraid. Not of me.”
“I’m not,” she lied quickly. “I mean… I know I needn’t be, Sir, because I trust you.” And that was the truth.
“Let me help you out of your gown.” The Beast came closer to her, so close she felt the fur that covered his muscles brush against her bare arms. With quick hands that weren’t nearly as clumsy as she would have imagined such large hands would be, he loosened the stays in her dress and, perhaps with a bit of fairy magic, managed to have her completely naked within moments.
“Sir?”
He smiled, and she clung to his arm. “Are you going to cane me?” she asked.
“I’m sure I will, at some point. But not right now.”
Good Lord in Heaven, what did he have planned? The not knowing was killing her. And she had thought she had it all figured out, based on Frederick’s diary. Fool, her.
The Beast took her chin with his hand and tilted her head up to him. “You need not fear my fangs, my teeth.”
Before she could process what he meant, he dropped his head to her bare breast, and licked her nipple.
Oh! The sensation was almost that of a cat tongue, scratchy yet soft and wet. The sandpaper-feel of it made her nipple tighten to a hard peak, and she moaned.
“I would like to bite you, my little Beauty,” he murmured.
Fear ran through her body, and every tiny hair on her flesh stood on end. But she said nothing. If the Beast said she need not fear his fangs, then she would trust him.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered, feeling shamed as a whimper tore from her throat.
He licked her breast again, all the way around the small, pink areola, and she shuddered with pleasure.
“I won’t harm you,” he promised. “But it will hurt. Let the pain mingle with the pleasure. This is not a punishment, Beauty. I want you to learn to enjoy this.”
With that, he nodded, and though he didn’t speak, she knew what he meant. She lay back, her skin against the rich carpet that covered the stone in the sitting room, and stared up at the Beast.
He was so big, so immense—he took up her entire field of vision. Somehow, even though she was naked and vulnerable beneath him, she was no longer frightened. His face was kind. How had she not noticed the similarity in his bone structure to that of Frederick? The cheeks, the jaw… the eyes. So human. So… Frederick.
“You are magnificent, Beast,” she said.
“As are you.” His head brushed the insides of her spread thighs.
And then, he licked her, his thick tongue opening her nether lips to touch her very center, lapping at her bud. The scent of her heady arousal mixed with that of the fresh-cut roses throughout the sitting room, and she breathed it in, her passion mounting.
Every lick of the Beast’s tongue brought on another wave of ecstasy. She writhed beneath him, moaning with desire.
Yes, oh Heavens. Yes.
Just as she reached the brink of climax, his fangs pierced her inner thigh, and she screamed as her orgasm wracked her body. The pain and the pleasure, the licking comingled with the bite, all came to a head, and she let herself fall over the cliff of sensual pleasure as she came harder than she ever had before.