Beauty and Her Beastly Love (Passion-Filled Fairy Tales Book 2)

by Rosetta Bloom

  Beauty tried not to look as shocked as she felt. Yes, she knew what he had told her when she arrived, but she hadn’t expected him to ask. Not now. Especially not now when she felt so homesick. She shook her head. “I can’t,” she said simply, pulling her hand from his and walking away. She went inside and upstairs to her room.

  A few minutes later, Beast knocked on her door. She bade him come in and he sat next to Beauty on a chaise longue near the window. “Is there something I can do to change your mind, to help you reconsider? I mean, you said you’re happy here.”

  Beauty stared into his brown eyes, his furry, bestial face, remembering once how his fangs and size had frightened her. Only, now she enjoyed seeing his face, enjoyed his company, enjoyed his sexual prowess. “I am happy,” she said. “As happy as I can be here, Beast. You’ve been nothing but kind to me and generous in spirit. And even in telling me I have a choice, there is a certain kindness in that. But, you…” Beauty stopped herself. She couldn’t say she felt trapped by him. It would hurt his feelings.

  She stood up. “You and I will continue the way we’ve been.” She smiled at him and tried to turn the tables. “Aren’t you happy with how we are, how we live?”

  He stood up, too. “I may be a beast on the outside, but I have the heart of a man, a heart that yearns for the love of his woman, of her promise to love him and only him forever. So, I am happy to be with you now, but I do desire more.”

  He’d laid his heart bare for her to see, and for that she was glad, but she could not give him what he wanted in return. “I’m sorry. I can’t say yes to you, Beast.”

  Beast kissed the top of her head. “Very well,” he said, then walked out.

  Chapter 16

  Beauty and Beast spent the next two weeks living a somewhat strained existence. They still were intimate, but it was clear that Beauty’s refusal of Beast’s marriage proposal had hurt him.

  On this day, Beauty was in the library, looking for something good to read. She saw the line of Ferus Lucunditas books on the shelf. This time, she noticed something about the books she hadn’t noticed before. These editions all had the publication year and month. There were three published per year for the last six years, for a total of 18. And this was March and that meant that a new book should be out soon. She wondered if it would simply appear on the shelf and she’d get to see it, or if she actively had to do something to make it appear.

  “Give me Volume 19,” she said. Then she waited. Nothing happened. She frowned.

  She heard a creaking noise and turned to see the door to the library open. It was Beast. “I thought I heard you?” he said.

  Beauty nodded. “Yes, I just noticed that the Ferus Lucunditas books are published three per year, in March, August and December. That means we’re due another one.”

  Beast laughed. “And you’re excited about that?”

  “Well, yes,” she admitted. “I have so little to look forward to; let me have this small treasure.”

  Beast frowned and walked over to her. “So, this is all you have to look forward to?”

  Beauty realized her mistake and bit her lip, as she tried to think of how to explain herself. “No, it’s not the only thing,” she said. “It’s just that I’m homesick. I miss my routine, Giselle, and, most of all, my father. You’re wonderful to me. It’s wonderful here, but sometimes the lack of my usual things bothers me. So, Ferus is like a little taste of home. Like, me getting a book from Giselle, going to my room, reading it by myself and touching myself.”

  Beast wore a crooked smile. “Do tell,” he said. “Did you touch yourself often when you read them?”

  Beauty could feel herself blushing. Despite the things she’d done with Beast, she still felt self-conscious talking about intimacies. “I’m sure most people who read that book do that. What is it you did when you read the books?” She raised an eyebrow seductively.

  “Would you like me to show you?” he asked, walking toward her. “I’ll show you if you show me.”

  It was an intriguing idea to Beauty. She’d never seen a man touch himself. Her curiosity got the better of her. “Alright,” she said. “Show me.”

  Beast lay down on the sofa, the same one they’d used last time they’d fornicated in this room. He pulled down his britches, exposing his penis, which lay in a heap, still somewhat flaccid. Beauty walked over and sat on the floor beside him. Part of her wanted to grab his penis, touch it, take it in her mouth, make it hard and ready for her. But, this was not what he wanted. He wanted to show her what he did. And she was intrigued to see.

  He put his hand on his cock, and it immediately started to come to life. It grew long and hard in seconds, and watching it caused her to moisten down below. Beast wrapped his right hand around it and began to gently, softly, move his hand up and down over the entire length. He got into a rhythm, his hand moving faster and faster, him remaining silent, his eyes closed in concentration. The look on his face was peaceful and dedicated, and Beauty liked it. She liked watching the muscles in his arm flex as he moved his hand, liked watching his erection slide in an out, like a gopher popping out of its hole. The muscles in Beast’s legs tightened too, as he performed his ritual. He was quieter when he pleased himself than when he was with her. She wondered if he offered more sound when he was with her, to let her know what pleased him, or if he simply had more pleasure when he was with her than when he was by himself. His mouth parted, and he let out a small gasp of pleasure.

  She watched as his hand moved faster and faster. Then, she saw it stop, and the head of his penis spit its gooey, cream-colored mix right onto Beast’s belly. It wasn’t a single spurt, but three spurts, one after another, and then she looked up to Beast’s face, an expression of self-satisfaction resting on his lips. His breathing was steady and heavy.

  He opened his eyes and turned toward her. “Did you like that?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And you’ll show me?”

  Beauty nodded. A towel appeared, and Beast cleaned himself. Then, he stood and offered her his spot on the sofa. Beauty had taken to wearing less clothing since it was just her and Beast in the manor. Today, she’d been in her nightgown with a cloak over it to keep her warm. She disrobed quickly and lay on the sofa naked. As she lay there, she felt self-conscious about doing this in front of him. He had done it for her, but he was different from her. He was strong and self-assured with sex. It seemed, with his powerful body and insatiable sex drive, it would be impossible for him to fail at anything sexual.

  Beauty enjoyed the physical pleasure, but she didn’t have the confidence. So, as Beast stared at her, she lay there, unable to muster the mood necessary to do this in front of him. “It’s hard,” she said, “to do this with you staring at me.”

  “Close your eyes,” Beast said. “Pretend I’m not here.”

  Beauty closed her eyes and thought about Beast. She thought about how she longed for him to touch her, how good it would make her feel, and then she began to touch herself in those ways. She slid her fingers around her breasts, down her abdomen and into her tuft of woman hair. Her fingers grazed the outside of her lips, then pushed inside, where it was wet and moist. She started with two fingers, gliding them deep inside her. She opened her mouth, releasing a joyful gasp as she felt the thrill of their immersion. She arched her back as she got into a rhythm and touched her breasts with her other hand, heightening the pleasure. She increased the pace of the thrusts, breathing in time with them and felt the sweet relief of coming.

  She opened her eyes to find Beast sitting on the floor next to her, staring intently, a look of desperation on his face. “I want you right now” he whispered.

  When she nodded, he stood, and she saw he was completely erect. Within seconds, he mounted her and thrust inside her with reckless abandon. He pounded her and growled as he did so, grabbing her butt cheeks and squeezing. Her hands found his back, and pulled him close to her. She enjoyed the power of his thrusts, the frenzied, uncontrolled passion. She press
ed her fingers deep into his back, holding on while he banged her insides. It was unrelenting, and she liked it that way, as he got to a pace she found almost unbearable in its pleasure. Then finally, he released, thrusting hard, with a growl, and then collapsing on top of her. His exhausted breathing matched her own.

  He kissed her on the cheek, and then adjusted himself so he lay next to her. She was completely satisfied by that exploit, surprised a little that mutual masturbation could be such a turn on for great sex. She lay there and closed her eyes, with Beast's arms around her. After a few minutes like that, Beast whispered in her ear, “I love you, Beauty.”

  She lay there stunned, unmoving. She had not wanted him to say that, because he would want her to say it back. And she couldn’t. Not when she felt so trapped in this house. She pretended to be asleep.

  Chapter 17

  There was a knock at Beauty’s bedroom door. It could only be Beast, for no one else was in the house except him. Even so, he always knocked, offering her a chance to deny or welcome his entry. “Come in” she called, as she tied a ribbon around the waist of her chemise like it was a belt.

  “I like it when you walk around undressed,” Beast said.

  Beauty smiled. “Well, it’s just you and me, so there’s not much point in the corset and petticoats and all that. I figured I’d go with just what I needed.”

  Beast nodded, and had a look of yearning on his face as he eyed Beauty. She wasn’t sure she was up for any more sex, as they’d been at it so much lately. Watching him pleasure himself had been interesting, but pleasuring each other was infinitely more rewarding.

  “You came to stare at me in my chemise?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “No,” he said, then smiled slyly. “I think I have a solution to your problem.”

  Beauty stared at him quizzically. “And what problem is that?”

  “That you want to see your father.”

  Beauty’s mouth opened in shock then she smiled. “You’ll let me go see him?” she asked, but he was shaking his head no even before she had finished the question. “Then what?” she asked, feeling betrayed.

  “I’ll show you,” he said, holding out a hand. “Come with me.”

  Beauty looked at his outstretched palm, and then placed her own hand inside his, with slight hesitation. He had never hurt her before, but she wasn’t sure she liked whatever he was going to show her. She wanted to see her father, and if she couldn’t leave, she couldn’t see him.

  Beauty followed Beast out of her room, down a hallway, to a book case with a statue on it. Beast touched the statue, and the wall opened. Beauty stared, shocked. This manor had a secret room. She followed Beast inside a small room with a single chair in it and a mirror on the wall.

  “It’s enchanted,” he said.

  “The room?” Beauty asked.

  Beast shook his head. “The mirror,” he said. “You simply ask it to see anyone you wish and it will show you that person.” Beauty was speechless, her mind still not quite believing what she was seeing. She looked at the mirror, wondering if it really could be. “I’ll show you,” Beast said. He turned to the mirror, and said, “Show me Odette.”

  Before them on the mirror, a young girl appeared. She was probably 14 or 15, with honey blonde hair and a beautiful smile. The family must have been well off, as she was wearing a fancy dress and expensive-looking jewelry. She was sitting in a room with a woman who appeared to be her tutor.

  They watched for a few seconds as the girl wrote something on a piece of paper, but the moment Odette opened her mouth to speak, Beast said, “Stop.” The image of the girl went away and the mirror reflected Beauty and Beast in the room. Beast was staring at the floor, his fist clenched. She’d thought it had been a sign of a hard heart that he’d told her to forget about her family, but as she watched his reaction to his sister, she realized she’d been wrong. He’d told her to forget because that’s what he wanted — to forget the anguish he felt at missing his family.

  She grasped his hand and gave it a squeeze. “That was amazing — that the mirror let you see her,” she said softly. Beast nodded. “How do you do it exactly? Do you have to know where the person is to see them?

  Beast shook his head. “No, just ask for the person, and it will know where they are and show them to you?”

  Beauty nodded. That seemed simple enough. She bit her lower lip and thought. But, she wanted more than just to see her father. “Can the person see you, or just you see the person? Can we talk to the person?”

  The Beast hesitated, then said, “It depends.” Beauty raised her eyebrows, so Beast continued. “I’ve found that I have the ability to… project.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You remember the day the carriage arrived for you, to pick you up?”

  Beauty nodded. “Yes, you were there in the carriage, and then you disappeared.”

  Beast shook his head. “No, I was here, in this room. I was able to project an image of myself there, with you. I put on the cloak to make it seem as if I wanted to stay in the shadows, but I was here in this room. I could see you, and you could see me, as if I were there with you.”

  Beauty stared at him, trying to remember that day, trying to remember what she saw. Had she actually touched him that day? She didn’t think so. And he disappeared as if by magic. But, what if he was never really there? “So, I can ask to see my father, and then project to speak to him?”

  Beast nodded. Beauty felt the joy building in her. She could see her father again. She could speak to him. A smile broke across her face, and she could feel it pinching at her ears since it was so large. She wrapped her arms around Beast. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.” Then she turned and walked toward the door.

  “Beauty,” Beast said, confused. “Where are you going?”

  She laughed, realizing she must seem a bit crazy. “To put on some clothes. I can’t let my father see my like this. He’ll think you’ve been doing exactly what you’ve been doing with me.” She winked at Beast. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

  * * *

  When Beauty returned a few minutes later, her hair fixed in a simple knot in the back and her corset on, she looked radiant. It was happier than Beast had seen her in the past couple of months. He realized now her melancholy was caused by homesickness, and this was sure to be the cure.

  Beauty faced the mirror and tentatively said, “Show me my father, please.” There, on the face of the glass, was Pierre. Only, he wasn’t at his modest cottage in the countryside. He appeared to be in prison. His hands and feet were shackled, and he had a bowl of gruel in front of him. “Father,” Beauty said frantically. “Mon Dieu. Papa,” she cried out. “Papa, what has happened? What is going on?”

  She turned to Beast. “Why can’t he hear me?” she asked. “You said I could project.”

  Beast placed a hand on her shoulder. “You have to concentrate to project. And it’s possible that you can’t. Maybe it’s something only I have the power to do.”

  “But, why wouldn’t I be able to project, Beast?” she asked. “Why just you?”

  “Don’t worry about why,” he said. “Just turn around, close your eyes and concentrate on your father, on trying to get your message across to him.” Beauty turned and closed her eyes, he assumed to concentrate. He didn’t want to have to answer her questions. He didn’t want to have to admit that maybe projecting worked for him because he was bound to this manor. He could never leave it. However, he could send the enchanted carriage, so long as it had a live animal pulling it, to do his bidding.

  “It’s not working,” Beauty said, frustration clear in her voice.

  Just then, in the mirror, a man walked up to Pierre. He had brown hair, a chiseled jaw and wore fine clothing. “Monsieur LaVigne,” the man said as he bent down toward Pierre. “If you will just bring your daughter from hiding, I will forgive all of this. But, if you do not, you will be executed in two days. You cannot promise me your daughter and, in antic
ipation of our marriage, have me pay your debts, only to refuse to deliver her.”

  Pierre coughed, then said in a whisper. “I told you, Monsieur Dumas, I was coming to pay my debt to you.”

  “Only it was stolen by bandits as you came,” Dumas said coldly. “Pierre, is it really worth dying to keep me from my bride?”

  “I swear to you, follow the path in the forest, and you’ll find the beast’s lair. You’ll find Beauty there.”

  “Enough lies,” Dumas said. “Jailer, please let me out. I will be back in two days to witness his execution.”

  The image faded from the mirror, and Beauty turned frantically to Beast. “We have to go back. We have to save him,” she said. “We have to explain.”

  She turned and started toward her room. Beast wasn’t sure what to do. He couldn’t let her leave. She’d never come back if he let her leave. However, the sole reason she’d come was to save her father. If her father was just going to die anyway, die because Beast had prevented Beauty from being delivered…. The thought of that made him shudder. He went to Beauty’s room and found the house had already provided her a bag. She was packing some clothes in it. He felt dread and some other feeling building in him, but he was at a loss to describe what it was. It was unpleasant and weighed him down. It wasn’t until she looked up from her packing and saw him standing in the doorway that he realized what the other feeling was: shame. Beauty stopped packing and stared at him. He said nothing, but her face crumpled, and she started shaking her head as she walked toward him.

  “Don’t say I can’t go,” she said.

  “You promised,” he said softly. “You promised to stay here forever.”

  “To save my father,” she said. “But now he is going to die if I don’t go. Please,” she said, tears streaming from her red-rimmed eyes. “Please, if what we’ve had has meant anything to you, please let me go.”