Step Beast

by Selena Kitt

  She didn’t think so.

  Straddling him, Tilly poised herself above his cock, her hand still on the shaft. Beast shifted, moaning, as she nuzzled the tip long her seam, up and down, teasing herself with it. His piercing, that little silver ring, nudged her clit, and she moaned, too, sliding his cock down to her hole and settling herself a little lower.

  Ahhhh God. He was big, and she was tight. His cock bucked a little, and she gave a little, settling down some more. She held her breath, watching his face, his eyes still closed. He couldn’t still be sleeping, she thought, gasping as she sank lower, taking more of him inside her.

  Oh, how she remembered this. How she’d missed it.

  She’d missed him.

  Her body knew him instantly, forming itself around his precise shape. Tilly moved slowly, lower and lower, and Beast groaned, throaty and deep. He had stilled, his hips pushing up slightly, his breath caught in his throat.

  When her weight settled down on him entirely, pelvis to pelvis, perfectly matched, Beast let out a low growl, his hands moving to her hips, fiercely gripping her. Tilly leaned in to kiss him, to silence his mouth that might open to object. She couldn’t possibly stand it, if he rejected her now.

  She felt his mouth move, felt his body tense, and she shushed him, cupping his face in her hands and telling him it was safe, she was on the pill, then probing between his lips with her tongue. Beast didn’t pull away. She felt the desperate strength in the hands gripping her hips as she pressed her mouth hard against his, her breasts mashed against his chest. His cock throbbed, filling her completely, and she gripped him with all her muscles, wanting to hold onto him.

  When she did that, he groaned deeply, giving up any resistance. She felt him give in, felt his mouth relax, his hands moving up to her waist. Tilly whimpered as his hands moved under her camisole, cupping her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her nipples. They were hard as diamonds, and although her breasts were rather large, they fit entirely in his big hands. It was as if they fit together, even if Tilly was so small and Beast was so large. Puzzle pieces that looked as if they would never work together, and yet, the moment you turned them the right away, they clicked perfectly.

  Tilly stopped kissing him long enough to let him pull her camisole off, leaving her naked on top of him. She saw his face in a slant of moonlight, his eyes glinting, fully open and aware—and filled with lust. His gaze raked over her body, followed by his hands, roaming everywhere, as if he couldn’t get enough of her, as if, maybe, he thought he was still dreaming.

  “You were calling for me,” she whispered. She wanted him to know he was awake, that this was happening. “In your sleep.”

  “I wanted you,” he confessed, his voice thick. “Oh fuck, Tilly, I want you…”

  She cried out at his words as he wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her breasts to his mouth, burying his face there, devouring her with lips and tongue. She arched and moaned softly as he sucked on her nipple, his cock moving inside her, driving her up toward the ceiling.

  “Oh God, yes,” she cried, grinding her pelvis down against his, catching his rhythm, their bodies moving together as they always had, smooth, fluid. She melted against him, letting him take over, his cock working deep inside of her. She clutched at him, clung to him, nails digging to the tattoos lacing his back and shoulders.

  With a swift movement that caught her by surprise, Beast rolled, tucking her beneath him. He dwarfed her, blocking out the moonlight coming in the open window, but she wrapped her limbs around him, welcoming his weight. His cock slid even deeper at this angle and she emitted a low moan of pleasure at the sensation, her pussy fluttering around his length.

  “Oh fuck, Tilly,” he whispered, keeping himself up on his elbows above her, face buried in her hair, breathing her in. “You feel so good.”

  “Yes, oh, yes, please, don’t stop.” She rubbed her cheek against his, feeling the prickle of his stubble, a delightful, raw scour against her skin.

  “Oh God, baby, you kill me.” He gave a strangled groan, but he didn’t stop, like she was afraid he might.

  Instead, he began fucking her like… well, a beast.

  He was a madman, and she lost herself in his motion, the slick feel of their bellies slapping together, the steady pound of his pelvis against hers. Her pussy clamped around him, not wanting to let go, ever, ever. Tilly wrapped her arms around his thick, corded neck, pulling him close, moaning as his mouth slanted across hers. He plunged his tongue into her with the same smooth, steady rhythm as he did his cock, one an extension of the other, as if he could stroke her with both until she disintegrated, creating enough heat and friction to make her explode like a star into nothingness.

  Beast began to give her short, hard thrusts, grinding his pelvis into hers, his cock rubbing so deep it almost hurt. Her clit was on fire, the delicious chafing between her legs making her rise with him, like the tide, rubbing, rocking, giving herself over completely to sensation. She was so close, her whole body was shaking. He seemed to know this, driving in deeper, relentless, making her cry out.

  “Come for me,” he told her, breath hot against her ear. “Come all over my cock, baby.”

  “Oh fuck,” she whispered against his neck, her teeth raking his skin, her pussy obeying him almost immediately. “Oh Beast! Ohhh God, I’m—”

  “Yes, yes,” he urged as her eyes rolled back and she shuddered beneath him. Her pussy spasmed again and again, contracting around his plunging length as he thrust madly into her flesh. It was too much. She could barely hold onto him, quivering all over, waves of power and passion rolling through her, hips writhing in helpless ecstasy.

  Beast’s hands moved down her body, grabbing her hips, her ass, moving her with him, the weight of his body suffocating, not that she cared. Tilly nearly screamed as her orgasm continued to course through her, her body jerking like a livewire as Beast pounded his cock deeply into her, calling her name again, groaning it out.

  His voice was still thick and rough, muffled in her hair, but he didn’t stop his motion. There was an express train running between her legs, and part of her almost wanted to beg him to stop, driving her against the mattress, battering her cervix with the hot ram of his cock again and again. But another part of her wanted it to go on, to never end, wanted to dissolve into nothing in his arms.

  He pounded into her, calling her name again. He knew who she was, he couldn’t deny it, deny her, not anymore. But Tilly found herself unable to reciprocate, speechless, all her talking being done lower down, as she gasped and sometimes cried out, inarticulate.

  This continued—hot, raw, relentless. He fucked her senseless, until she really thought she couldn’t stand it, until she felt herself helpless with passion, skewered by love, filled with Beast to the very brim, bursting with him.

  And then she really did explode. Everything shattered, all at once.

  They came together.

  Beast thundered and erupted into her, the intensity of it forcing his voice into strangled silence while the rest of him flowed freely, a thick, white-hot pulse pouring between her legs. Tilly’s pussy seized around him uncontrollably. Convulsing rhythms of pleasure flooded her body, tearing into deep untouched parts of her, breaking them open like cracks in a dam destined to burst. Some part of her that had been dry and undernourished was swept ecstatically away, disappearing in the flood.

  She held him close, feeling his body, so stiff and hard under her hands, slowly begin to relax. He gave a low sound in his throat, muffled against the pillow under her head, but he didn’t speak. She cried out when he withdrew, hating to lose him, even for a moment. Beast moved his weight off, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her.

  Tilly reached a hand out, lightly stroking his upper arm, his back straightening at her touch. She wanted to tell him how good it had been—ask if he had felt it, too. It had never been like that before, never quite as good as this. Not even that summer. But somehow, Tilly felt an indefinable air of doom lingering.r />
  She wanted to talk to him, but another part of her didn’t want to encourage him to speak, because he might not say the things she longed to hear. Instead, she wanted him to turn and put his arms around her, to hold her some more. All night long. The rest of their lives. That part of her knew, somehow, that when he spoke, things would go all wrong.

  “We can’t do this,” he said.

  The words fell on Tilly like the dull side of an axe—even though she’d expected them. Why couldn’t they do this? Even as she prepared to argue against him, she felt the futility of it.

  “Tilly…” His voice broke before he cleared it and tried to continue. “You know I’m not good for you. I’m not good for anyone. I’m not—”

  “Shh...” Tilly sat up beside him, putting a finger to his lips.

  “Stop,” she said quietly. She kissed his temple, his ear, murmured softly into it again, “Just stop.”

  She laced the fingers of one hand into the fingers of his. “You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  He didn’t respond to that.

  Tilly nestled her face in between his neck and shoulder. She held both his hands now in hers, grateful for the quiet. Maybe he was considering. Accepting, even. That deep, broken-open part of her understood the paradox, could even look at it from all sides, and still want what she wanted.

  Him. She wanted him.

  And goddamnit, he wanted her, too.

  “What were you dreaming about?” Her lips grazed his Adam’s apple and she felt him shiver.

  “You.”

  She put a hand on his head, smiling—she’d been so sure he was—running a palm over his crew cut, the simple, manly sharpness of it. Hard and soft. That was her Beast.

  “You were tossing and turning.” She nuzzled his ear. “I was hoping it wasn’t a nightmare.”

  “It’s always been a nightmare.” His hand tightened around hers, nearly crushing her fingers, and when she cried out, he let her go.

  “I’m sorry.” Tilly couldn’t keep the tears from her voice. Her lower lip trembled and she reached quickly for her camisole—a dark spot of material in the sea of white linen—pulling it over her head and wrenching it down. She rose from the bed, looking around for her panties—finally finding them between Beast’s feet.

  She snatched them up, yanking them quickly on, and turned to go.

  That’s when Beast grabbed her hips in both hands, pulling her back to the bed, into his lap. He didn’t say anything, but he cupped her face in his hands and pulled her to him, capturing her salty mouth in a kiss. Another tear slipped down between their lips.

  “I didn’t mean it, Tilly,” he whispered hoarsely, kissing one cheek, then the other, her tears flowing freely now. She wanted to ask which he didn’t mean—that he’d been dreaming about her? Or that she’d been a nightmare? But she didn’t have a voice left. It was caught in her throat, choking her.

  “I should’ve known, Tilly.” He put his forehead against hers, eyes closed. “I should’ve stayed away. I can’t trust myself around you. I’ve just proven it.”

  She gave a little cry, but it wasn’t anything close to words. She couldn’t begin to articulate what she was feeling for him, about him.

  But she tried, in between shuddering breaths. “You… you came back…”

  “I came back,” he breathed, sliding his hands down to her shoulders, turning her to face him. He shook his head. “But I’ve fucked it all up. I should’ve known…”

  “No, you haven’t.” Tilly swallowed, managed to find her voice again. “I know why you’re here. And she… my mother wants you here. She needs you here. It’s okay. I know that’s the reason you came home. I just—”

  “No, Tilly,” he urged, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her body even closer against his. “You don’t understand. I didn’t come home for her. I came home for you.”

  “Wh—what?” she breathed.

  She heard his throat click as he swallowed.

  “I came home because…” His voice was thick with emotion. “I didn’t think you could bear to lose one more person… and… I couldn’t bear to lose you...”

  “But you left,” she choked out. “You said it was impossible, and you left!”

  “It is.” He groaned, lowering his head, eyes closed. “I should’ve known I couldn’t come back here without… fuck! Without hurting you… and I don’t want… the last thing I want… ”

  “What? The last thing you want is to hurt me?” She gave a strangled laugh. “Oh that ship sailed a long time ago. You tore my fucking heart out and then you just… just… left!”

  “Tilly, I had to go.” He sighed, sounding resigned. “I was enlisted. I—”

  “No, you didn’t just leave because… because the army, or whatever.” She felt her lips trembling with the force of her words. “You disappeared! For, like—years! No calls, no letters, nothing. Nothing!”

  “I thought…” He lifted his head, looking at her in the moonlight. “I’m not good for you, Tilly.”

  “Stop saying that!” she cried, grabbing him by the shoulders, shaking him—not that it did much, but it got his attention. “I never said that. Where in the hell did you get the idea that you’re not good for me? You’re the best fucking thing that ever happened to me. The only time in my life that I remember being really, truly happy—I was with you. How can you say that you’re not good for me? You don’t get to say! You don’t get to—”

  “I have to!” he thundered, pushing her off his lap. She fell to the floor, hard, teeth rattling in her head, wind knocked out of her completely. Then he reached for her. “Fuck. Tilly… I’m—”

  “Sorry?” she gasped, staring up at him as she shook his hand off her arm. “You bastard.”

  Beast let her go, cradling his head in his hands. She heard his harsh breathing, saw the moonlight shining on the patterns across his bulging shoulders and back.

  “I am,” he said finally, not lifting his head. “I’m a goddamned bastard. You’re right. Get out, Tilly.”

  She shook her head, feeling lost. Always, she came up against this unbreakable part of him. He was a wall, impenetrable.

  “Beast.” She went to her knees, edging closer to him, reaching out to touch him. “Please. Listen to me.”

  “Get out,” he said again, his voice like steel. Slowly, he raised his head, his eyes narrowed silver slits in the moonlight. She sat back on her heels, hesitating, trembling hand still outstretched. “Tilly, I won’t allow it. Do you hear me? I will not allow it.”

  “But—”

  “No!” he roared. “I swear to God, if I have to go away again, I will. Now get the fuck out of here—and don’t ever come back.”

  Tilly’s heart was broken. She couldn’t move. So he moved her. He yanked her up from the floor, steered her into the hall, and slammed the door.

  She heard the lock turn and fought back a sob. She fought it all the way back to her room, where Frankie had rolled to her belly, hugging a pillow. She had ceased snoring, but she was fast asleep. Tilly slipped under the covers, hugged her own pillow, and curled into the corner of her bed. She fought her tears, fought all of her emotions as they threatened to break the surface, until finally, she had no choice.

  Tilly screamed. She turned her face into her pillow, and give into long, silent, sobbing screams that threatened to tear her apart. She cried as silently as she had slipped down the hall to Beast’s room. She cried as silently as she had borne almost every horrible thing that had ever happened to her. She curled into a ball, feeling powerless, helpless, adrift on a sea of pain in a boat that had no rudder.

  But that wasn’t entirely true, was it?

  Her boat wasn’t rudderless—she just wasn’t the one steering it.

  Frankie snorted in her sleep and rolled to her side, mouth open, drooling onto her pillow. Tilly smiled, looking at her sleeping friend, wondering just how Erich the Terrific would handle drunk Frankie. Or hungover Frankie. Ugh, she wasn’t looking forward
to hungover Frankie.

  Slowly, Tilly’s smile faded. Her eyes grew wide in the darkness, listening to Scrabble bustle around his cage. Slowly, her smile began to return.

  She had an idea.

  Tilly was quite familiar with the office at The Block, but Frankie had never been up there for an extended period. So while Frankie drifted around, looking at the posters, the books on the shelves, Tilly sat on the buttery, black leather couch, her mind returning to the spanking she had received there.

  The more she thought about it, the tighter her ass clenched. And the more determined she was to go through with this, in spite of Frankie’s teasing.

  They both looked up when the door opened.