Book Read Free

Beauty Becomes You

Page 1

by Skye Warren




  BEAUTY BECOMES YOU

  Skye Warren

  Copyright 2013 by Skye Warren

  Smashwords Edition

  With the end of semester approaching, Erin and Blake decide to lay low. After all, they have all the time in the world after that. Except Blake’s future at the university is up in the air and trouble is brewing back in Erin’s hometown. When the couple is tested, they will have to trust each other to forge their own sexy ending.

  Beauty Becomes You is a novella in the Beauty series. Don’t miss the first installments, Beauty Touched the Beast, Beneath the Beauty, and Broken Beauty, available now.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Blake stared down at his drink, trying to force his sluggish mind to wake up. His throat was dry. His whole body ached, as if reminding him he was no longer young and couldn’t afford to act that way.

  Footsteps came from behind him. He turned slightly. Ah, there she was. Erin. Beautiful Erin with a smile far too bright for this time of day.

  She sat down on the stool next to his. “Hey, stranger.”

  “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “We may have met. I think you taught one of my college courses.”

  “Did I? So tell me, how’d I do?”

  “Oh, excellent. You got five chili peppers on the professor rating site.” At his raised eyebrow, she explained, “That means you’re hot.”

  He snorted, swigging the remainder of his apple juice. “Now I know you’re lying.”

  “Well, I think you’re hot.”

  Even though she was just being kind, something panged in his chest. She meant he was beautiful on the inside, or she’d just gotten used to the way he looked, and it was more than enough for him. It would have to be.

  With an exaggerated wink he said, “Back atcha, babe. Now what do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable, like my place?” He looked around at his kitchen from the breakfast nook. “My God, we’re already here.”

  “Very convenient,” she said solemnly, her eyes twinkling.

  “I thought so.” He buffed his nails on his shirt, because… well, hell, wasn’t that what smooth talkers did? He had no idea. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d been to a bar, or really, anywhere that wasn’t home or work. He vowed to change that as soon as possible. Once the semester was over and finalized, he’d take Erin out to dinner and dancing as often as she could bear.

  He must have looked like an idiot—a sleepy idiot with no one to blame but himself for keeping her up all night. She didn’t seem to mind, judging by her saucy grin. She slipped off the stool and circled him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her legs. Her bare legs, almost completely exposed beneath the hem of his rumpled dress shirt. She must have picked it up off the floor before coming downstairs this morning. And goddamn, she wore it better than he did.

  She ran her fingertip over his shoulder. “Weren’t you going to take me upstairs and show me something?”

  Christ, had she actually said this kind of thing at a bar? The college guys would have been eating out of her hand. Or any guy, really. He was eating out of her hand. Fuck.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose I could show you my thesis. I’ve been told it’s very impressive.”

  Her lush breasts pressed against his back. He shut his eyes, holding back his groan. His thickening erection tented his sweatpants.

  Her breath coasted over the back of his neck. “Is it long?”

  The thesis.

  “Long enough.” Tugging her wrist, he pulled her around to stand between his knees. “And very hard.”

  She laughed softly, gaze wandering lower. “I bet it is. Did the committee drill you on it?”

  “Let’s just say I’m not one to back down from an oral examination.”

  He’d meant to go down on her, to lick and suck her body, to role play a sensual test, but she knelt in front of him and every thought, every teasing quip flew out of his brain. He could see the shadow between her breasts through the low V of the shirt she wore. Her eyes were heavy lidded with arousal. She tugged the band of his sweatpants down, releasing his heavy, full cock into her palm. She held him up, as if testing his weight. Her palm looked small and pale beneath the ruddy girth of him. Delicate fingers wrapping around pulsing, hungry flesh.

  “Erin.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

  Jesus. Every night she grew more sure in her feminine power, and every day he fell further in love with her. The bonds gripped him tightly, but he never fought them. Here, with Erin, was exactly where he wanted to be.

  She knelt between his legs. He brushed the hair back from her face, enjoying the silvery play of sunlight on the crown of her head. Her position was sensual, but when he looked down at her, the emotions he felt far surpassed the physical. Her position was submissive, but he was the one at her mercy.

  With a wicked tilt of her lips, she fisted his cock and brought him to the brink, pump after groan-inducing pump. Just when he was sure he’d blow, she stopped, leaving him on the knife-thin edge of pleasure and aching need. Her hand remained still, holding him up as she leaned forward.

  Her lips pressed the slippery head in a chaste kiss. The velvety caress made his hips cant forward. He sighed in helpless denial. She was killing him, slaying him, and he wouldn’t have stopped her for anything. Her tongue darted out, sending molten pleasure to his balls. She sucked him in shallowly, holding the head in her mouth and sucking hard. He swore every crude, vulgar word he’d ever heard in the military, his fingers white-knuckled on the edge of the stool.

  She glanced up at him. The sultry knowledge in her eyes mesmerized him. His veined shaft disappeared between her stretched, pink lips. He wanted so many things. To make her take him deeper. To hold her head. To own her. But his love for her wrapped around him like butter-soft chains, holding him back and keeping her safe.

  A new, subtle pressure had him clenching and rising up to meet her mouth. She’d worked a finger down below where he couldn’t see—but Jesus, he could feel. Sparks down the seam of his balls and up underneath. How could she bear to touch him there? He wanted to make her stop, to force her to rub him there faster and harder. The barstool may as well have been glued to his palms. He couldn’t move them. Couldn’t stop her, couldn’t make her do a damn thing. This was all her: wicked intent and lavish attention.

  Slowly, her finger slid back farther, to the waiting pucker of his ass. His whole body strung up tight. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying out no and stop and God fuck yes. Flames licked his balls, and he rocked in a rhythmic motion, desperate for relief.

  As her finger explored forbidden territory, her eyes held a question. Do you like this? And they held something else, her answer. She liked this, and he was filled with gratitude. Flushed with pleasure. He would probably go up in smoke any second now, but God, the burn felt so sweet.

  Circles.

  The thought pierced his lustful haze. She was making circles right there with the tip of her finger. He followed the sensation of tiny spirals at his most vulnerable point. She sucked him in deep, making his eyes roll back. Her grip at the base of his cock tightened and then slid along the shaft. Her finger at his back entrance pressed inside. The smallest degree of entry, and he was lost. Climax swept over and consumed him. He shouted something broken and base while he poured his orgasm on her tongue. Shudders wracked his body as he stared down at her. His entire body clenched tight with pleasure before relaxing in sweet contentment. She lovingly licked the last traces of seed from his cock.

  Finally releasing himself, he unclenched his fingers from the stool. One hand shoved into her hair and gently pulled her to him. He kissed her with an open mouth and greedy tongue, tasting himself inside her. His bod
y was sated, but not his desires. He had wanted to taste her, and judging from the way she shivered in his grip, she wanted that too.

  Feeling wild and desperate, he glanced around the kitchen. Through the open-air entranceway, he saw the armchair in the living room. Not a very comfortable piece, but the padding would protect her. He wanted to make her come so hard her liquid spilled onto the cushion. He felt feral, wanting to mark the furniture with her scent, her sex.

  “Follow me.” Feeling grim and unkind, he pulled her over and sat her down. A little more roughly than he needed to, but it set the tone. She needed to understand. This was how it would be, him leading and her placid. It was the only way he could worship her properly, because if she spoke a single word, he’d obey.

  He spread her legs, placing them over each padded arm of the chair. It was bondage without a foot of rope. The more he pleasured her, the tighter her legs would bind her here. Of course, she could always relax and stand up herself, but she wouldn’t. The dark amusement in her eyes said she understood the game, she accepted it. Her parted lips and quickened breath said she didn’t give a damn, as long as he gave her what she needed.

  The folds of her sex glistened in the faint light. He speared his fingers through the moisture, relishing the slickness. So lovely. And his, all his. He dipped into the wet heat. His cock stirred again, ready to take its rightful place. No. Not this time. He quested farther north, to the place where softness bundled together, where gentle pleasure tightened into nerves. He stroked her clit, and she shuddered.

  “Blake.”

  She sounded lost and beautiful. What was he doing to her? Should he stop? Leave her alone? He couldn’t.

  “Stay quiet,” he said. “Keep your hands on the chair. If you speak or move, I’ll stop.”

  He leaned forward to breathe in the earthy, sweet scent of her. Fuck, he went crazy for this. The first taste had him rock hard. The second made him groan with fevered longing. Her sex was plump and swollen, slippery against his lips. He found the well of arousal with his tongue, drawing out more liquid and drinking it down.

  The familiar musk of her transported him to another world, where time could never intrude. He had an eternity to lap her folds and suckle her clit. He lashed her with his tongue, pulling stuttered breaths and harsh inhalations, but she was so good. So obedient. She remained almost silent, almost still.

  He glanced up and lost a heartbeat at what he saw. Her unfocused eyes had glazed with unshed tears. Her parted lips trembled. He had meant to draw this out, to make her wait and maybe return the favor by exploring the tight pucker beneath. But he couldn’t stand to see her in this kind of sexual agony.

  Pressing two fingers inside, he found the roughened spot that made her buck. His lips closed around her clit, sucking her hard. Her whole body grew taut. Her hips bucked against his face. The sensual violence grew too hard, too much, until he skated his free hand, still damp from her juices, along the tender insides of her thighs, a feathery caress to push her over.

  She cried out her release as wetness flowed over his lips and down his chin, coating the chair just like he’d imagined. He helped her back down with slight licks and soft kisses. When her body slumped against the back of the chair, he picked her up and held her until the trembling subsided.

  Her breathing evened out, and for a minute he thought she’d fallen asleep. Her voice sounded drugged when she spoke, slurred and breathy. “Did I pass?”

  It took him a minute to connect the dots to their teacher-student fantasy at the start. “Very much so, sweetheart. You are my best student.”

  She huffed a laugh. “I better be your only student when it comes to oral examinations.”

  “My one and only.” He kissed the top of her head and let his lips linger there, reveling in the silky strands of her hair. His one, his only. His everything. In a matter of days, it would be permanent. Safe. In a matter of weeks, it would be real.

  * * *

  She went to the bar and took a swig of Blake’s drink, wishing for a moment that the amber liquid were indeed alcohol instead of juice. She turned and froze at the sight. He had sat down in the chair where she’d just been. He was naked, one ankle slung over the other. Strong hands that could be impossibly gentle hung loosely on either side of the chair. He leaned his head back against the chair, eyes closed. His expression was so peaceful, she couldn’t help but stare. Her face flushed when she realized he must feel proof of her excitement beneath him. She might have been more embarrassed except she was distracted by his next words.

  “I think we should stop seeing each other until the end of the semester.”

  She almost fell off the stool she’d sat on. “What?”

  He leaned forward, looking solemn—and frustrated. “Look, I did handle Melinda. That’s done. But talking to her made me feel…well, guilty. Like I might be taking advantage of you, even if I didn’t mean it. I should know that intentions aren’t the important factor. It’s my actions.”

  “You’re not taking advantage of me.” She felt shocked, hollowed out. And somewhat offended. As if she were a child incapable of making her own choices.

  He grimaced, seeming to read her thoughts. “I don’t mean it like that either…but intentions don’t really matter. You have every right to be mad, but I hope you’ll understand.”

  She was silent, hating that she did understand. She loved his integrity, and that’s what she was seeing now.

  “I hated facing this decision,” he said. “Either way, I would lose you. I had to choose the one that would only last for a little while. Let’s do this for a few weeks. Until the day of the Faculty Ball. By then class will be over, grades will be in, and your thesis will be finished. And we’ll have forever after that. Trust me, Erin?”

  Her heart swelled. Of course she trusted him. And forever… well, she would do just about anything for forever with him. Even give him up for a few long weeks.

  “I do,” she said, then cleared her throat, embarrassed by the matrimonial sound to her words. “I do trust you. We can handle this.”

  His smile was pure relief.

  “Do you want to come home with me?” she blurted out.

  One eyebrow raised. “Now?”

  “I meant my hometown. Come home and meet my mother. It will be better than having her meet you here, where she’ll…” Swallowing, she looked around his kitchen. The thick crown molding and stainless steel appliances. “Well, she might judge you based on your house.”

  Standing, he stalked toward her. God, completely naked. Why couldn’t she stop staring?

  Reaching behind her neck, he pulled her in and kissed her flush on the nose. “Did you just invite me to meet the parents?” he teased. “This must be serious.”

  She nodded, grinning. “Well, there’s only one parent. But yes, I’d say it’s serious.”

  “Glad to hear it, because I’m serious too. And I want you to move in with me.”

  Her breath hitched. She glanced around the stately home. “Here?”

  “That was the idea. Unless you don’t like it. Then we could look for someplace else together.”

  “No, it’s not that. I love your house.” Something held her back from saying yes. Being under his control, financially, physically. She’d struggled and studied and worked her whole life so she’d never have to answer to a man. Even though she knew he’d never hurt her, it was hard to give up that dream. “I just meant…I spend all my time here anyway.”

  His expression was soft and painfully understanding. “It would be different if you were with me, every day. Every night. But it’s okay. You don’t have to answer now. After the semester. It can wait.”

  Her sigh held relief and gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “I won’t rush you, because I need you to be sure. Once you’re with me, I’m not going to be able to let you go.”

  She shivered at the dark note of possession in his voice. After her exams, she’d be able to think straight. Then she’d tell him yes, wouldn’t she? S
he couldn’t imagine telling him no. Her love for him posed a greater threat than a domineering man ever could. Blake had gotten under her skin and buried deep in her soul. There would be no going back from this. She was looking over a ledge she knew she would jump over, gauging the distance. If she were honest, she was already on her way down.

  “Just promise me something,” he said. “I may not always be near you, but I will never be far away. If you’re ever in trouble or need something, you let me know. Promise me.”

  She melted, her heart a puddle. “Oh, Blake.”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Nothing is too small. You need a light bulb changed or find a spider in the shower, I’m there.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said with mock forbearance, even though she found it sweet as hell.

  Her old boyfriend, Doug, had only been interested in her when they were together. And her mother, as wonderful as she was, had enough to manage with her work that she didn’t concern herself with how Erin did on a day-to-day basis.

  Especially lately, when she couldn’t even seem to take a phone call.

  Just as quickly, he turned the topic to safer ground. “So, it’s been a long time since I met any parents. I’m not even sure what that entails.”

  She grinned. “Better mind your manners.”

  He put a hand to his chest. “I’ll be on my best behavior. She isn’t going to put us in separate rooms, is she?”

  “I doubt it, considering there’s just the one bedroom beside hers. Though I suppose we could always make you sleep on the couch.”

  “Can’t blame her. I have the worst intentions where you are concerned.” He grew serious. “It can wait until after the summer semester, right?”

  “Yes, of course. The drive is too long to make in a weekend trip anyway. We’ll spend a few days there. Plus, if you don’t mind, we should take your car. I don’t think mine has that many miles left in it.”

  “I don’t like you driving that thing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s fine.”

 

‹ Prev