Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel)

by du Lys, Cerys

  "I do," he said, kissing her neck between each word. "And then, as I show it to you, I'll creep up behind you and place my hands on your waist and breathe heavily on your neck, almost as if I'm going to kiss you, but I won't, not yet."

  Alena grabbed at the sheets beneath her, digging her fingernails into them. "Dante..."

  "You might chide me, and I'll apologize. Did I bring you back to my room for this? You'll ask me that, but I'll deny it. Oh, no, of course not. I'm a gentleman, Alena. I would never..."

  Smoothing down the silken fabric of her nightwear, Dante's finger trailed lightly up to the peak of her breast and barely touched the tip of her nipple. Alena breathed heavily, clenching her eyes shut, practically ripping the bed covers between her fingers.

  "And then," he said, but he didn't get any further.

  "Dante, Dante stop," Alena said. "Please, I... Dante, please, we... we can't. Not yet. You haven't asked me to dinner yet."

  He removed his hand from her body, and his lips away from her neck. Laying on his side next to her, head propped up on his hand, he smiled. "We can't what?"

  "We can't have sex," she said.

  "Oh?" he asked.

  She blinked, confused for a moment. "You've tricked me, haven't you?"

  "I did?"

  "I wanted you to have sex with me and you were going to, but I just stopped you, didn't I? I can't believe I've fallen for your tricks."

  "You could compel me?" he offered.

  "Ha!" Alena meant to cackle, but it came out more as a girlish giggle. "I don't want to waste my magic. I'll make you seduce me properly, and then you won't be able to complain about it after. I'm not entirely positive, but I've heard that once you have sex with a succubus, you become their slave forever."

  "Forever?" Dante asked. "That's quite a long time. Are you sure?"

  Alena nodded, matter-of-fact. "Yes, I..." She looked away, unsure, her voice turning timid. "Dante, if we have sex like that, will you stay with me after? I know that asking you to stay forever is a lot, but I'd like you to stay at least a little while. At least a few days or maybe a week. Not alongside me for always, but if you would ask me to eat dinner with you again and... and if we could lay next to each other and cuddle and..."

  "If we're going to be sleeping together like that, we should probably live in the same room, I'd say."

  "Really?" she asked. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, definitely. Also, I think there's ceremonies involved."

  "Like magic?" She didn't know about magical sleeping ceremonies, but she liked the idea of it.

  "Somewhat. I believe the spell works in that I offer you a ring, and then we recite words in front of a divine witch, and after that we're bound together."

  "Is that a spell, really?" Alena asked. Then it dawned on her, and she slapped at his side. "That's marriage, Dante! You tricked me again and I don't like..." Her eyes widened. "Wait, no! I like it. I swear, I promise. If you marry me, you can't leave ever, though. Never. Not at all, not once. Alright? Not... not now. We can't get married now. That's just silly, right? I mean... if you asked me now, I'd have to say no, because... well, you need to ask my father for permission first. He's a little strange, but I do love him. Also, do you think Danya will marry Everett, because that might be odd. We'll need to get married before they do, since if we don't you'll be my brother after that, and then we can't have sex. A marriage without sex doesn't sound altogether too entertaining."

  "We could have forbidden and taboo sex," Dante said. "Sneaking away together in the night like illicit lovers. Depraved and desirous, siblings through circumstance, not blood, forever forced apart, but unable to tear themselves away from each other. Denying all logic and guilt, frantic with passionate need, tugging and pulling at each other's clothes, then coupling in some lewd and carnal display of prohibited love."

  "Are you saying that if I were your sister like that, because of Danya and Everett marrying, you'd still want to have sex with me?" she asked.

  "Yes," he said.

  "That's... that's so naughty, Dante. I'm the succubus, but you're worse. Maybe... maybe we should let them marry first. You haven't even asked me to eat dinner privately with you yet, anyways."

  "Alena, will you eat dinner privately with me tonight?"

  "Dante, no! Stop it! Danya and Everett need to marry first. They..." Alena paused, wrinkling her nose. "You've tricked me again, haven't you? We're never going to have sex, are we ?"

  "Let's eat dinner privately tonight, but not tell anyone," Dante suggested.

  She frowned. "I want you to tell someone. I don't want you to be ashamed of me. I..."

  Dante shook his head and sighed. Grinning, he snuck forward and kissed her on the lips. Alena blushed and looked away from him, nervous.

  "All I can say is that Everett and Danya better marry each other soon," he said. "I'm entirely certain I won't be able to keep myself away from you for very long."

  "Really?" Alena asked, entirely too pleased at his words. Oh, this was so interesting and different than what she was used to.

  "Yes," he said, kissing her once more.

  ...

  Danya awoke and... where was she?

  The last thing she remembered was standing in some impossibly high tower room somewhere, completely separated from the rest of Everett's mansion. That witch, the one that came from the tree that Beatrix summoned, had talked to her and then... she remembered.

  Some spell or other, some way to control her. That's what all of these witches wanted, wasn't it? Anyone to do with magic seemed this way, too. Everett wanted control, and to satisfy his own needs. Beatrix did, too. Perhaps now, as some conglomeration of demon and human, even her sister might. Would Alena become like that, heedless to the needs or emotions of others?

  Danya knew she wasn't perfect. She knew she'd made mistakes in the past, and she understood there was nothing she could do about it now, but that didn't mean she didn't regret it. She despised what she needed to do in order to survive, and she hated how her father idly sat by, oblivious. Would he be proud of his daughter for selling her body and sexual services to keep their family afloat?

  Some sudden thought struck her. Perhaps he knew already. Perhaps he knew and he did nothing because what could he do? The alternatives were possibly worse, and if he feigned innocence and denied it in his mind, then what? It might seem like paranoid thoughts, but it wasn't entirely farfetched. Michael knew, and others, too. She tried to be discrete, but one word from the wrong person could send rumors flying through town as easily as that.

  And what then?

  It didn't even matter anymore. Danya didn't know where she was or what she was doing here. She lay atop the dining hall table where Everett had first taken use of her body. Dishes of food and assorted plates and cutlery surrounded her, prepared for use in some grand banquet. Danya wore nothing, or so it seemed, but she felt fully clothed. What was that about? She didn't understand it, but then again ever since she'd arrived at this hidden mansion in the woods she barely understood anything.

  A dinner bell chimed and people filtered into the room. And still she lay there, nude, for all to see. Ladies and gentlemen sat at their places around the table. Danya tried to move, to get up, to flee from their scrutinizing gaze, but she couldn't. When she glanced to the side and towards her feet, she saw her wrists and ankles bound to the table with ornate napkin rings intended for fancy displays.

  The people sat and served themselves and ignored her as she struggled to move and free herself. Was she part of the meal or the entertainment? Would they feast on her next? Pull down their pants after clearing away their dinner and use and abuse her like some tender piece of meat? Or would they feast on her literally, slice into her body, ignoring her screams, while peeling away slivers and putting them on their plates? Would they...?

  "That's really enough of that," a woman said from somewhere far off, but nearby. Immediately, the dinner setting vanished, and all of the people along with it.

  Danya lay in
a bed, not bound or tied or trapped. She sat up and blinked, confused.

  "You have such strange thoughts," Beatrix said. "Why would anyone place you on a table to eat you?"

  Danya glanced down her body; she wore her beautiful pale blue dress again. Beatrix loomed nearby, watching her. There was a door in this room, unlike before, and a quick check out the window showed that she was in the mansion proper now. Some room, a bedroom. Whose?

  "I wanted to apologize," Beatrix said.

  Danya narrowed her eyes at the witch, unsure. "For?"

  "My anger was with Everett, not you. I pulled you into all of this through the curse, though. I don't believe it's my fault entirely, but if I hadn't done it, none of this would have happened to you. Everett wouldn't even be alive now, either, so you wouldn't know him. Perhaps the mansion would be abandoned, and you could have lived your life peacefully within the town. Is that what you would prefer?"

  Danya choked back her anger and sorrow. Was that what she wanted? Not really, no. There wasn't anything for her there, except perhaps her youngest sister, Felice. Danya had no other ties binding her to the town, nor did she want any. Everyone who knew her treated her either callously or with general disregard and indifference. No one cared, but to be honest, she found it difficult to imagine anyone here that cared, either.

  "I have a proposition for you," Beatrix said.

  "What is it?" Danya asked.

  The witch smiled and seated herself on the edge of the bed next to Danya. "It's going to sound silly, really."

  "Don't say it if you don't want to," Danya said. "It doesn't make any difference to me."

  "True," Beatrix said. She shrugged and glanced around the room. "I think I'll say it, though."

  Danya waited, but the witch said nothing. Was this some game of hers? It bothered Danya. She didn't need to sit here and be harassed and pulled into another magically contorted version of reality. She didn't need to do any of that.

  "That was magic before," Beatrix said finally. "You atop the table. I thought you might like it. I should have warned you. I apologize. None of it was real."

  "Alright," Danya said.

  "You see, the thing is, I know magic, of course. Most people are frightened of it. Everett... wasn't. For a time. I'm unsure if he still feels that way. You weren't before, though. I really do appreciate that."

  "It's not about fear," Danya said. "I wasn't scared, because I didn't care. If you killed me, it wouldn't have mattered. I felt so alone and trapped, and I still feel that way. None of this makes sense. Do I have a sister anymore? I was angry with her for what she did with Everett, but now I don't even know. Is she like you? Is she going to become vile and vicious and awful?"

  Beatrix smiled, revealing her pure white teeth. "I can be rather vile and vicious and awful, but I don't like to be. Matilda thinks it's odd. She always told me there was no such thing as good or evil. There just is. Everything is, or it isn't, and you can make it be or not. It's lonely like that, though. Like you said, being able to do everything that you want is lonely too, and I feel somewhat trapped because of it. No one wants to be close to you if you're like that. No one wanted to be close to me, even when I tried not to be like that."

  Danya crossed her hands over her chest. "I don't feel sorry for you. That might be rude, but I don't."

  "Good. I'd rather you didn't."

  "Yes. Good."

  They sat there, watching each other, neither moving. Beatrix breathed softly, her breasts heaving up and down, perfect and mesmerizing. It angered Danya. This woman, so close and perfect and wonderful, and what was Danya then? Nothing, really. Everett kissed her, yes, and he said some things, but she paled in comparison to the witch, no matter what she did.

  "This is foolish," Beatrix said. "I hardly doubt you'll agree with it. I'm not always vile and vicious and awful, though. I like to be nice and sweet. And sometimes more than that. I like... happiness of all kinds. If that makes sense? I'd like to attempt to correct some of what I did wrong. Of course I can't break the curse without the magic from the rose, and that won't return for another century, but..."

  "Everett can break it if he finds a willing woman to sleep with him," Danya finished when Beatrix trailed off.

  "Yes, and if you accept, I believe he'll wish to do it with you."

  Danya raised one brow, confused. "Perhaps, but I don't know if I forgive him yet."

  "He could find someone else," Beatrix added.

  "He did," Danya said.

  "You're mad at me about that. Jealous, too."

  That did it. Danya swung her hands up in the air, exasperated, then fumed at the witch. "Do you think I shouldn't be? You have magic. You can be whatever you like. You've lived forever—or will, right? What am I, then? I'm just some whore from the streets. I never wanted to be one, but I am. When I came here, I thought I might be more, but I'm not. I'm easily replaceable, and no one cares or wants to bother with me. No one..."

  Beatrix halted Danya's words with a kiss. The witch's lips pressed against hers, tight and demanding. Caught off guard, entirely unsure about kissing another woman, Danya blinked and stared blankly at what was happening. Beatrix's lips felt nice, though. Soft and smooth and lusciously perfect. They were perfect, Danya reminded herself. Everything about this woman was. It was magic, and it might amaze her if it didn't frustrate her beyond belief at the same time.

  Danya found herself pressed against the bed, her body pinned beneath the witch's. Sensuous and soft, Beatrix rained gentle kisses upon Danya's lips. The witch's hand shifted up alongside the other woman's dress, towards her breasts, where she squeezed gently. Despite the oddity of the situation, and the sheer uncertainty of doing anything like this with a woman, Danya realized it felt nice. Apparently it didn't matter who touched what, but if they performed with careful sensuality, it appealed to a person nonetheless.

  Danya didn't want that, though. She didn't want to be some whore, who even spread her legs for another woman, who gave up everything and...

  "I apologize," Beatrix said, pulling away.

  "Why did you kiss me?" Danya asked. "I'm not like that, you know?"

  "Well, yes. I don't think I am, either," the witch said. "The problem is that, like I said... I'm sorry, but I crave it. Intimacy and love, even of a friendly kind. It's my own doing, but I recently cursed the only man who took me to bed as a lover for centuries, and I've been worrying and regretting and pondering my revenge ever since. Do I want him to suffer, or do I want him to apologize?"

  "I'd like him to suffer and apologize," Danya said. "He's an ass."

  "Sometimes, yes. I think we could change that, though. What do you think?"

  Danya had no idea what that meant. "Excuse me?"

  "Everett loves you, of course. Or he will. I know these things. The beginning signs are easy to tell. I think you like him, too, don't you? If yes, if you accept him, you'll both marry and you'll become the Lady of the Manse alongside him as the Master."

  "I..." No. Why would Everett want her? It made no sense. Danya wasn't an official lady, nor anyone worthy of wedding someone like him. She wasn't anything important, and yet here was some supposedly all-knowing witch telling her she could be. "You could marry him," Danya said.

  "That won't work," Beatrix said. "I frighten people. They wouldn't accept me. Everett could marry me, of course, but he won't, either. Not just because of that, but because he doesn't love me in that way. I... I want it, though. Which..."

  Beatrix waved a finger in the air, and a gentle buzzing vibration tapped at Danya's core. Between her legs, somehow thriving with attention and life, she felt thick arousal spreading into her. Slow, like sweet honey, it pushed inside of her, caressing her inner depths and teasing at her clit.

  "It's your decision," Beatrix said. "I won't force you. This is just a sample, to explain. It's... I should have asked you first. Whoops! But still, it's nice, right?"

  Danya wanted to object and claim that it wasn't nice, that it was horrific, but none of that was tr
ue. It was soft and smooth and sweet in some way entirely unknown to her before. Invisible magical hands caressed at the core of her body, massaging her lower lips and her stomach and her pussy and clit. They teased and tempted her, arousing her. She couldn't deny that, didn't really want to deny it. She didn't want to feel it like this, but did it hurt to listen to what Beatrix had to say, did it?

  "You should be Everett's wife," Beatrix explained, kissing Danya's cheek. "Regardless of what I want, that's what will happen. But if you'll let me, discretely and hidden, known only to the three of us, I'd like to share your marital bed. All of us, together," she added. "Or apart, if you wish. I won't intrude, I promise. If you'd like to do things with just you and I, if Everett won't become angry with it, I'd like to try that, too."

  "I don't know," Danya said. She didn't want to move for fear of giving away her pleasure. She shouldn't make important decisions at a time like this.

  "I understand," Beatrix said. "As I mentioned, I don't wish to come between you two. I'd enjoy playing, though. In a good, proper way. I won't use you or him. I'll agree to a pact if you like. Magical and binding. I can enhance everything for us, if you'll let me, though. I can fulfill your fantasies. Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a man with a cock between your legs, pressing atop a woman and into her slick folds? I can do that for you, give you a man's tools if only for a few hours, and I could be the woman writhing beneath you. I can..."

  Danya gasped, both in pleasure and surprise. "You can do that?" she asked.

  "Do you want to see?"

  Danya blinked, uncertain. It... it intrigued her, and yet...

  "Not yet, not entirely," Beatrix said. "I'll show you a little, though."

  Confused, Danya nodded. Beatrix shifted Danya's dress up, revealing her crotch, then performed more magic, waving her finger once more. Something filled the witch's hands, some illusory, as of yet unformed magic. She swept her palm across Danya's stomach and towards her clit. With carefully guided, magical motions, Beatrix molded the magic into an illusory shaft, upwards more, forming the head, and...