Sleeping with the Beast: an Adult Paranormal Shifter Romance (The Conduit Series Book 2)

by Conner Kressley

  I braced myself as another blow came, the smooth leather cupping around my bottom as it hit. The belt wasn’t as bad as I expected, but the second blow hurt more than the first. Instinctively, I pulled against my binds. It was no use. I could call out at any time—I knew the words to make him stop—but now would be too soon. The king would think he went easy on me.

  And, deeper down, if I was behind honest, I wanted to see what Abram would do next.

  The third time the belt cracked against my skin, it hit the underside of my butt, and a small cry escaped my lips. But despite the pain, the heat that had begun to radiate from every impact point was stirring a fire in my belly. Each blow sent little shock waves through to my pleasure zones, and my cries had nearly turned to moans.

  A sudden need radiated through my body, every inch of me humming with desire. I wanted to beg him to fuck me—even if that hadn’t worked when I’d tried the same thing back in New Haven. But at that moment, I didn’t care. It was only my attempt to keep the charade going that stopped me. My body, however, begged in her own way, my hips bucking as much as the strange constraints would allow.

  My face burned hotter, thinking of how desperate I must look to Abram right now. The way I writhed, the way I moaned, the way I was most certainly glistening—Abram surely knew right then how badly I needed him inside of me.

  I wasn’t sure if it was that or the charade that kept him going, but each blow came a little harder than the last. Each crack of belt thrust my body slightly forward against the bed, the comforter rubbing roughly against my nipples. Tears began to slide down my cheeks, and I couldn’t be sure if it was a hormonal rush of emotions causing them, or if my body was starting to register Abram’s blows as actually painful. But none hard enough to illicit anything I couldn’t handle.

  Until the next one.

  That following crack made me shudder, and the words flew from my lips before I could stop them.

  “My prince!”

  At once, the belt fell to the floor, and Abram rushed to my side, hastily untying my binds and gathering me into his arms. He sat on the edge of the bed, cradling me against his chest and kissing away the tears on my cheeks.

  Footsteps shuffled down the hallway in the other direction, and when they faded, I looked up at Abram. “Is he gone?”

  Abram nodded. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head.

  “You’re hurt. You should have stopped me sooner.”

  I shook my head again. “I just need you.”

  His brow furrowed, and I tipped my head up to kiss his lips. He didn’t resist as I turned out of his lap and pulled his body on top of mine, never letting his mouth deviate from my own.

  The comforter on the bed was a little rough against my bottom, but the tenderness only heightened my arousal. As his body hovered over mine, my mind played through the ways our little “scene” could have played out differently. What if the king hadn’t been there? What if Abram had dropped the belt sooner and taken me while I was still tied up? Would I have liked that sort of thing?

  It seemed impossible, given how much I loved to have my hands all over Abram’s body. And yet, at the same time, the thought of it skyrocketed my arousal.

  “I want you,” I whispered.

  “I want you, too,” he said. “All of you.”

  My mind was swimming again, but this time not with confusion. Instead, my thoughts swelled with images of everything that had just happened between us, of every touch, of all of his power—even when he wasn’t being the beast—of the way he managed to use even my discomfort to enhance my sexuality.

  I would never tire of this man.

  He pulled his clothes off and returned to me with the same fervor I felt for him. He kneeled between my legs, leaning over me, and moaned as he pressed his shaft into me, stretching my walls to accommodate him. He thrust in a little faster than usual, as if unable to contain his need, and I bit down on his shoulder. This made him moan louder.

  He growled at me. “Better watch it, Ms. Bellamy,” he warned, pausing. “If you remember, I know more than one way to punish you.”

  I whimpered, squirming beneath him. I could not handle Abram withholding an orgasm from me like he had back in New Haven. He needed to give the goods. And as hard as he was right now, something told me he couldn’t hold back if he tried, but I wasn’t about to test that theory.

  I slid my hands up his chest and kissed him hard, silently daring him to resist fucking me senseless. It worked. He grasped my wrists and pinned them over my head, then swayed forward, his cock filling me completely and his pelvis rubbing against my clit. I gasped as each thrust sent a quiver through me, and whenever he would pause, my hips bucked uncontrollably, trying to get more of him.

  His hands kept their powerful grip on my wrists the whole time, and he kissed my lips hard as he rammed into me. My bottom beneath me felt tender, even a little inflamed, and that feeling seemed to intensify with each forceful stroke of his cock.

  Abram had never fucked me like this before. It was as though something had come over him—over both of us. A raw hunger, a pounding desire, a thundering need. I could taste it on his lips every time he kissed me, as though with each kiss he was feeding some part of him I had never seen before. And maybe there was a time that would have scared me, but I trusted him. Really trusted him. And I wanted him. Wanted this.

  He moved his mouth to my nipples and bit down hard, eliciting a sharp cry from me and sending me to the brink. Between the friction and the penetration and the aftereffects of my “punishment,” I felt every atom of exposed flesh buzzing and became hyper-aware of every throb of his shaft inside of me. Everything was just…more. I wanted him more. I trusted him more. I loved him more.

  With my body already in overdrive from the moments leading up to this, he sent me over the edge faster than seemed possible. I cried out as my walls crashed around him, and when he made those small grunting sounds he always made before an orgasm of his own, I exploded again.

  The hyper-sensitivity of my body seemed to carry my orgasm on a never-ending wave of pleasure that left me gasping, unsure now if I could handle anymore.

  “Come,” I told him. “I need you to come, Abram.”

  “Fuck,” he grunted, my words sending him over the edge.

  He bowed his sweat-beaded forehead against mine for a long moment, then gave me another kiss, sending small jolts thought my over-sensitive body. With another small kiss, he rolled off of me and his head sank into the pillow beside my own while he stared up at the high ceilings.

  Neither of us moved for a long time. Finally we found the energy to clean up, then we huddled back under the blankets, him lying on his back, pillows propping him up, and me curled against him, resting my head on his chest.

  His hand drew lazy patterns against my back, and he sighed. “I’m sorry I had to do that.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t be. I liked it.”

  “I meant the first part.” He shifted his gaze toward me. “I hurt you. I should have stopped sooner.”

  He looked away again, but I pulled his face back to mine and gave him a kiss. “You didn’t hurt me, Abram. I told you. I liked it. All of it. Minus King Creeper hanging around outside the door.”

  He bit down on his lip, shaking his head. “You always surprise me, Charisse. But I think we should save any future ‘punishments’ for outside these castle walls. Please, please, just be on your best behavior while we’re here.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, titling my head to the side. “Misbehaving has proven to be so rewarding.”

  Abram spun me onto my back and hovered over me, holding my hands above my head. “Maybe next time I’ll make you say sorry the way I did back in New Haven.”

  “That wasn’t so bad in the end, either,” I challenged.

  “It could have been,” he said with a low growl to his tone. “Now please, I’m asking nicely. Behave. We have bigger things to worry about.”

  I nodded, my heart
sinking as I remembered why we were really here in the first place.

  “Good girl,” he said, then he started to trail kisses along my neck, between my breasts, down my stomach…

  But right as he was about to disappear beneath the covers, someone else appeared at the foot of the bed.

  Chapter 9

  Satina.

  She stood there like a ghost. Well, like a ghost in a sundress wearing a pretty fashionable hat, looking as if she had spent most of the day at the beach.

  “Oh, my God!” I yelled, startled.

  “Really?” Abram smiled, still staring at me. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”

  “No,” I said, taking his head in my hands and turning it toward what I hoped was an apparition.

  The idea of Satina standing in our bedroom at this particular moment had too much weird ménage à trois energy for my tastes.

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Abram made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl. Even though we’d just had more fun than any lucky person could fit into a lifetime, let alone a night, the term ‘blue balls’ came to mind. This man was insatiable. And, when I was with him, so was I. “You would pick now for an informal pop in, wouldn’t you?”

  I pulled the covers up over me, making sure I was covered. Abram had no such modesty. Sure, all the best pieces were out of sight, but his chest, arms, and a tantalizing chunk of his left hip were on full display. And the way he moved around thoughtlessly in the bed said he couldn’t care less who saw him.

  Of course, who could blame him with a body like that?

  “Like it would have mattered.” Satina rolled her eyes. “The two of you are at each other more than rabbits in planting season.” She reacted to my quizzical look with, “He knows what I’m talking about. Besides, I needed to wait until you were alone. The enchantment around this place is so strong that I can’t stay very long.”

  “It’s voided my curse,” Abram said, leaning forward.

  He seemed a bit upset at the prospect, which surprised me a little. It was a curse, after all. Shouldn’t one be happy to see it lifted, even if only for a short time?

  Satina huffed. “That doesn’t say much for my skill set, does it?”

  That was right. If the enchantment on this place was keeping Satina out most of the time and blocking Abram from going beastly, then it meant the Conduit who placed it was more powerful than her.

  Not good, considering she was our “big guns.”

  “I suppose it doesn’t say much for your abilities, either,” she added, glancing at me.

  “Hey, I’m just a half-breed,” I said, raising my hands unapologetically.

  “And a pretty ill-informed one at that,” she said smugly.

  It was true. I hadn’t found a way to tap into the Conduit part of myself yet. To be honest, I probably wouldn’t have been able to tap into the Supplicant, either, if it entailed anything beyond standing there and bleeding. There was some frustration there, though. While I had no interest in diving into this spooky world of magic and monsters more than I had to, I was stuck in it knee-deep, and the prospect of having some control over things didn’t sound too bad.

  Besides, I had all these Bewitched scenarios cooking up in my head. It was probably unrealistic, but what wasn’t anymore?

  “A teacher would be quite useful to you,” she said, looking around. “Maybe quite useful for all of us, actually.”

  “Is that an offer?” I asked, raising my eye brows.

  “Absolutely not.” Satina scoffed. “I was never much of a teacher, and even if I was, I wouldn’t be of any use to you. You’re too tempting, Charisse. Being around you for too long wouldn’t be in either of our best interests.”

  She looked at me again, some sort of hunger brimming in her eyes. “No Conduit could be trusted around someone like you.”

  And with that went my dreams of being some crazy witch’s star pupil.

  Abram put his arm around me, and I got the feeling he was going on the defense now. “Why are you here, Satina?”

  “Well, it’s not because I liked the show,” she said, motioning toward his general nakedness. “Would you cover yourself? The last time you were this naked in my presence, the both of us ended up sorely disappointed. I’m not interested in a repeat performance.”

  Exhaling loudly, Abram pulled the comforter over his lap more thoroughly. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

  “The same reason I’m always here. To stop you two from getting lost in the throes of your hormones.” She moved around the bed, settling in front of me. She wasn’t really here. I knew that. I had seen her face in the curtain during dinner, and now I saw her full visage. But she was still an apparition, even if it did seem like I could reach out and touch her. “I have information that will help you on your little…quest.”

  I sat up in bed. This I could get behind. I had to hand it to Satina. She might have sometimes relied too heavily on snark and pompous sarcasm, but she always came through with the good stuff.

  “About the curse?” I asked.

  “About the suicides,” she said, clicking her tongue in that annoyed, chastising way of hers. “There have been fifteen in the last few months. They’ve all happened on that far cliff, which was also the site of the original Grimoult castle.”

  “We’re aware,” Abram said gruffly. “Get on with it.”

  Satina quirked her eyebrow. “So you know about the beauty?”

  “Sleeping Beauty?” I asked. “King Doucebag’s daughter.”

  “King Archibald’s daughter?” Satina shook her head. “That woman is long dead. She lived a good life, though. Met some prince in a forest and married him the next day, which is sort of ridiculous if you ask me.”

  Abram didn’t correct her fairytale ending. Instead, he replied, “What ‘beauty’ are you referring to, then?”

  “A quick bit of research on the victims would tell you that they had absolutely nothing in common. They were all of varying ages, sexes, races, belief systems. Some of them have lived here for years, while others—like yourselves—were on vacation. Some were married. Some were single. A few were children.”

  I shuddered.

  “They have nothing in common…except one thing.”

  My body tensed up. “What?” I asked, knitting my fingers around the blanket nervously.

  “Most of them spoke of a woman before their deaths. She would come to them in a series of vivid dreams. I’ve spoken to a few of their spirits on my side, and it’s my belief that, within those dreams, she guided them to their demise.”

  “The Conduit,” I said in a whisper. “Did they tell you who she was?”

  “Like they could figure it out.” Satina rolled her eyes again. “But I’ve done a sweep of this island. Other than within this castle, I can’t find any trace of magic. Unfortunately, that’s not to say there isn’t any. Dreams are not easy to manipulate. The sleeping curse that the original Conduit used on Sleeping Beauty all those centuries ago is some of the strongest magic known to man. It is so strong, in fact, that it was outlawed and lost eons ago.” Her gaze met the floor. “If someone has managed to twist that magic outward, then it would be beyond anything I could combat, maybe anything that I would even be able to sense.”

  “Well, that’s encouraging,” I said, infusing a little sarcasm of my own.

  Satina nodded. “But not impossible to deal with.”

  “I don’t like where this is going,” Abram answered.

  He stood, taking a sheet from the bed and wrapping it at his waist, leaving me with just the comforter. He was like some fabled god standing before me, and knowing that I would get to spend the entire night with him sent a happy ache through my core. I promised myself not to fall asleep this time. He wouldn't be running off before he became the beast, and I wasn't going to miss it a second time.

  “You haven’t even heard my proposal,” Satina said coyly, eyeing him up and down.

  “I don’t need to. I know you, and I know
situations like these. I would throw myself in front of any dagger, lie down on any sword, but that’s not going to be enough, is it?”

  Satina’s eyes didn’t leave him. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the king is keeping a secret. I think it’s somewhere in this castle.”

  “I think that’s rather obvious,” Abram shot back. “But what does it have to do with the suicides?”

  Satina frowned. “If I knew, I would tell you. You’re lucky I’ve figured out this much for you. Now you’ll have to do the rest from the inside. The magic surrounding this castle is strong, so I’ve been forced to focus on what’s happening outside the castle. I think whatever the king is hiding has to do with the beacon I’m sensing on the island. I can feel it whispering to me, but being in the afterlife dulls my senses, and I can’t find it.”

  “A beacon?” I asked, my eyebrows knitting together.

  “Yes,” Satina said. “Think of it as a mystical anchor, a stationary object that emits the magic like a…sort of like a pulse.”

  “Like a router,” I finished.

  Satina’s eye glazed over. “A what?”

  “Like a router. You know, for the internet.”

  Abram swiped his hand down the side of his face, his fingers scraping against his permanent five-o’clock shadow. “She does this all the time.”

  Satina waved at him dismissively. “You have to find the talisman. Find that, and you’ll find the Conduit.”

  “Fine. I’ll find it,” Abram said, one hand resting at the thin cloth around his waist.

  “You know it doesn’t work like that,” Satina scolded. “You’ll need more info from the king first, and to find it, you’ll need someone to keep the mongrels inside this place busy, King Douchebag included.” She grinned at me. “You know as well as I that there’s only one thing she could give that would hold the king’s interest. And we both know that you’re not willing to put her through that.”

  Abram’s expression twisted into anger. “Back off, Satina.”

  She raised her hands innocently. “I wasn’t suggesting it,” she said coyly. “You’ll have to talk business or sports, or perhaps recount to him vividly some of your, uh…training sessions…with your princess. I suggest you spare no details.”