“Never. It will be easier if I can stand,” he said. “Come here, Beauty.”
He positioned her body, bent over the side of the bed, and gently pulled her robe off of her, letting it drop to the floor. Naked, she trembled, waiting for him. Her nipples pebbled against the bedsheets, her fingers grabbed hold of the linen and tightened in anticipation.
The Beast stood behind her, and pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. None of his weight was on her, and she exhaled shakily.
“You are everything to me, Beauty,” he whispered. “Is this all right? You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, Beast,” she said. “I want this. I need this.”
He pressed his cock to the entrance of her cunny, and she moaned, still fearful of how it would feel. Slowly, carefully, he entered her, stretching her wet heat, filling her completely. His cock rubbed against every nerve ending in her body, mingling pain and pleasure in almost the same way as his lovebite had done when he’d marked her.
She cried out as he pulled back and slowly thrust inside of her once more.
“It’s all right, little Beauty, everything’s all right,” he whispered, his voice low and rumbling.
Her whole world narrowed until nothing existed except for the Beast inside of her, stroking her, touching every part of her from the inside out.
It seemed to go on forever, and yet she didn’t want it to end. Her pleasure bloomed and rose on crest after crest of waves of sensation, and she bit the pillow, stifling her own cries of passion.
But the Beast ripped the pillow from her mouth. “I want to hear you, Beauty. I want to hear you scream with pleasure.”
He pulled out of her, leaving her empty, wanting. She cried out inarticulately in protest—
Don’t stop!
—but he lifted her from the bed like she weighed nothing at all, and held her in his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist as if of their own accord; she clung to him, this mountain of a man.
The Beast grabbed her thighs and raised her up and onto his cock, impaling her with delicious passion. Belle threw her head back in ecstasy and held on for dear life.
“Yes, Beast, yes,” she moaned, unable—unwilling—to contain herself any longer.
She grabbed his bulging muscles, wanting to feel all of him, to experience everything about him. She tore at his hair, pulling his face toward hers for a long, deep kiss. Then, in a moment of primal abandon, she bit his mouth, as if daring him to bite her back.
With a low growl, he threw her onto the bed on her back. Belle cried out in surprise—he was so tall, the drop to the bed was five or six feet at least. He loomed over her, his beautiful green eyes dark with lust and desire.
“I’m sorry, Sir—” she whispered, even though, if given half a chance, she’d do it again.
“Never be sorry, Beauty.”
He braced himself above her, his body inches from hers, supported by his own arms and legs.
“I won’t crush you,” he rumbled. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I trust you, Sir,” she said.
She did, with all her heart.
The sight of him hovering above her was terrifying indeed, but at the same time aroused her deepest passion. She moaned with pleasure as he thrust inside her once more.
Belle wrapped her arms around him, the heat of his breath warm on her bare neck. His thrusts shook her to the core, awakening her entire body.
She gave him the screams he wanted, her passion mounting even as she felt she would be torn apart by his power. Belle knew she was safe with him, and her fear only intensified her arousal.
The Beast sped up his pace, rocking within her, moving faster, faster, until he came with a loud roar that shook the chandelier and made the lights flicker. Belle whimpered and nearly scrambled to get out from under him, her natural instinct overtaking her, despite desperately wanting
(needing)
more. And more. She cried out, her desire echoing through the bedchamber.
He held her hips, pinning her to the bed, wrenching another delicious orgasm from deep within her.
It’s like when Frederick came, how he seemed more animal than man. In that moment of pure ecstasy, he had been reduced to his most primal instincts.
The Beast pulled out, hot come splattering on her breasts. She lay still, not daring to move, breathing hard.
“Stay still, Beauty. Let me tend to you.”
She closed her eyes, nearly drifting off into sleep, when she felt the warm, wet towel wiping her skin, cleaning her off. The Beast placed tender kisses on her body as he dropped to his knees at the bedside and washed between her legs. His face was so close to her there, inspecting her.
“You’re perfect,” he said. “You didn’t even bleed.”
“I fell off a horse when I was a child,” she said, “and bled then. So my maidenhood was already torn. But I swear I was a virgin for you, Sir.”