She didn’t know how to respond, so she did something she’d never done before—she reached toward his erection, and dropped her head to his lap, wanting to kiss him there the way he had done to her.
Frederick grinned. “What are you doing?”
“I honestly have no idea,” she said, opening his trousers.
His cock was thick, heavy in her hand, and glistened at the end with a drop of arousal. Belle lowered her head and licked the drop off, savoring the taste of salt and man. Had she ever been able to taste something in a dream before?
“Is this all right?” she asked.
“Open your mouth,” he said. “Take it all in, lick with your tongue, and try to keep your teeth at bay.”
Belle hesitated for only a moment before wrapping her lips around his cock. The heat of it, the taste of his flesh in her mouth, was so fantastical and new that she murmured in delight, causing Frederick to moan with pleasure, and tangle his hands in her long hair.
She continued tonguing his cock, swallowing around it, and looked up at him to see if he was enjoying himself. Frederick was so beautiful, with that thick, brown hair, and deep green eyes, eyes that were half-closed now with pleasure.
“I need to know, Beauty,” he said, his voice rough with desire, “can you love the Beast? Can you love us both?”
It made no sense. What man would want her to love another man? But the truth was, when she had her chance for freedom, it wasn’t just one man she thought of that kept her from leaving. It was both the man, and the Beast. So yes. Yes, she could, perhaps, someday…love them both.
“I think so,” she said, sitting up.
Frederick groaned and took hold of her hand, guiding it over his cock. With his hand over hers, he rubbed himself, faster and faster, until he cried out, his face in a grimace that looked almost
(beastly)
primal, and come flowed out of his cock, pouring hotly over her hand.
“Thank you, Belle,” Frederick said.
He rose and washed with water from the basin, and she watched intently, enjoying the view. His long, lean muscled body, the way his strong jawline gleamed in the candlelight…
“You’re so handsome, Frederick.”
For some reason, he stiffened. “It shouldn’t matter what I look like. I want you to love me for who I am, inside.”
“You’re a fantasy. I’ve made you up in my dreams.”
“I may be in your dreams, Belle, but I am as real as my diary, as real as my portrait.”
She gasped. “How did you know I found your old diary?”
“You were looking for me in the castle. It’s all right, I suppose it’s one way you could get to know me. Although I hope you understand I’ve grown as a person a lot in the last ten years, since I kept that diary.”
Ten years. The same ten years that he’d been missing from the castle. The same ten years ago that the Beast told her he’d changed.
But nothing made sense, and none of her past experiences ever showed her a way that two men could be one, and so she dismissed the niggling thoughts that threatened to break her very sanity.
Frederick was for her dreams, the Beast was for her reality, as strange as it might be.
“You need to wake up, now, darling,” Frederick said.
“I don’t want to wake up.”
He walked back over to the bed and, in an instant, had her over his knee.
“Wh-what?” she cried, although secretly, she’d been wanting Frederick to make good on his promise to spank her.
His hand came down hard on her bare buttocks, and she gasped at the sudden sting of his palm.
“Are you ready for the Beast?” he asked, spanking her again.
She couldn’t focus on what Frederick was saying, because all of her thoughts flew from her mind as he spanked her, warming her bottom, and he kept saying…
“You need to wake up, Beauty. It’s time to be with the Beast.”
9: Submitting to the Beast
Belle woke up with her face against her pillow, her bottom burning, her inner thighs wet with arousal. She felt tender, inside, where Frederick had stretched her with his long fingers.
But Frederick was gone, and the dream was over.
She rolled over and pulled the covers up to her chin, staring at the flickering candles, half-melted in their holders. At least an hour or two must have passed for the candles to have burned down like that.
Had that experience with Frederick really happened? Or was it, once again, but a dream?
There was a hard knock on her bedroom door.
“Frederick?” she whispered.
“Beauty,” the Beast’s voice answered. “It is I. The Beast. May I enter?”
Belle got out of bed and wrapped herself in her dressing robe, then opened the door. The Beast stood in her doorframe, his enormous body taking up the entire space, blocking any escape to the corridor outside her suite.