by Stone, Wendy
When the spasms subsided and he could once more breathe, he looked down at her, watching as the fans of her lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks. Her lips were parted, her breath a rapid hiss. He could hear the swift beat of her heart in her breast, and smell the scent of her spendings in the air around them.
For the first time in two years, since the beginning of his curse, he was content. He rolled to the side, pulling her with him, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. He kept her there, her body tucked tightly to his side, his hand upon her hip, the other around her, resting on her waist and let his body relax, falling off to sleep easily. * * * * Brenna heard his soft growl and felt the bed shift as he rolled his big body to the side. It wasn't often that he fell asleep as she was reading to him, but those times he did were her favorites.
She closed the book after marking the page, setting it carefully out of the way. Slowly, so as to not disturb him, she crossed to the other side of the bed, lifting the covers and slipping under them.
The sheets were warm from his body, and she gloried in the feel of them, wishing she could chance stripping herself bare. She wondered what he would do if he woke to find her in his bed, her naked body twined with his like in the books that she read to him. Would he love her then? Would he take her and make her his as she so longed for him to do?
She'd been with him for as long as she could remember, the memory of her time on the streets forgotten as he'd forged new and wonderful memories for her. He'd spoiled her, dressing her in satins and silks, giving her anything her heart could want and asking only that she spend a few hours every night reading to him. It was so little when she wanted to give him so much more.
His name was Garren. It was an ancient name, one that she'd never heard until he'd told it to her. He wasn't like a normal man; his body could shift and change into shapes of animals, though she'd only seen him as the wolf. He could be a man, too, if he wanted, but holding that shape required a lot of energy, and he tired of it quickly.
His natural form was the one she saw nightly, furred, but still with the shape of a man, powerful, fierce and exciting. He'd never asked for anything from her but that she read to him, he'd never even hinted that he would accept anything else, but she wanted to give it. She'd give him everything she was if he would but ask. She loved him. With a sigh, wiping at the tear that streamed down her cheek, she moved silently to his side, reminding herself that she needed to be up and away before he woke. She settled next to him, running her hand through his fur and whispering his name. "Garren, I love you," she said as she let her eyes close. She didn't see his eyes open, nor see the anguish in the deep blue of them as he heard her words and felt her slender body against his own.
Chapter Three
Brenna climbed up on the bed, her gaze roaming over the solid form outlined so intimately under the sheet. She knew from personal experience Garren slept nude since clothing hampered him in the night. She knew from the few times she'd climbed into bed with him and pressed her body against his own.
His body was a study of tactile pleasure—soft, silky fur, resilient skin, hard muscle and bone. She loved to rub against him, to knead his flesh under her searching fingers. She yearned for the day she would grow brave enough to touch that certain piece of rock hard flesh, to wrap it in her hand and stroke him as she'd watched him do. She wondered what it would feel like, and if Garren would enjoy her touch as much as he seemed to enjoy his own.
Perhaps she could ask him to teach her. Perhaps she could coax Garren to change his mind and make her his own. Perhaps she'd wake tomorrow and find that the sun had risen from the west and would now set in the east.She shook her head, sighing heavily at the thoughts.
"Is something wrong, pet?" Garren asked, using the name he gave her when he was in a fine mood. He smiled, showing off the sharp fangs that caused so many to fear him.
"No, Garren, nothing but my thoughts coloring my mood. I'm fine." She lifted the book in her hands, wishing she could throw it on the floor. Who cared about whether Melissa and Nathaniel would be happy when her own happiness was in such jeopardy?
"You do seem rather tense, pet. Perhaps you'd like to forget reading tonight?"
"What would we do then?" she asked him, her eyes lighting up as she thought of a number of different ways for them to entertain themselves.
"Well, I thought you'd go to bed and I'd do the same." Garren watched as that wonderful light that made her blue eyes sparkle seemed to dim and her face to fall. He knew what was in her head, for the thoughts rang through his own, swirling into a confusing mist that had kept him awake the night before, long after her soft breathing told him she was asleep.
"No, I'd much rather read to you, Garren, then find myself in my room once more.Please, may I?" she asked him, holding up the book.
"Yes, on then, let us find out if Nathaniel and Melissa shall have a happily ever after." He shifted down further under the covers, moving his legs. Brenna looked lovely this evening, her bright blonde hair streaming freely over her shoulders in thick, lush waves. Her eyes were huge and bright in a small oval face that seemed inordinately delicate. She had a tiny stubborn chin and a long thin nose that had an aristocratic bent.
Her mother had been a slattern, walking the streets at night to make enough to keep her fed and sheltered. She must have run afoul of some lord or another who paid her the few coins to sample her generous charms and was thence gifted with Brenna, though that ungrateful wench hadn't considered Brenna a gift nor the joy she should have been to her.
She lost Brenna when Garren had spotted the filthy little ragamuffin living in an alley, getting scraps and handouts from the other whores on the streets. She'd been half starved and half wild, but had come right up to Garren when he'd approached, tilting her head and staring up at him in his disguise as a man. She studied him, as she might an insect under a magnifying glass, before reaching up with one horridly dirty hand and touching the thin silk of his white shirt.
He'd taken her with him, coming back to repay the kindness of her mother for the way she'd taken such proper care of the poor dear. He had scared her so badly that the woman had been sent to the institute at Bedlam.
That had been Brenna's lucky day. Now she lived in luxury, her every need met as long as she read to her master every night.
Her fingers reached out for him now, as they had that long ago night, touching his chest gently, her knuckles brushing against the hard flesh under the soft fur. "I will read to you, Garren," she said quietly, before sitting back and lifting the book. She rested the edge on her legs, reaching between the marked pages with delicate fingers and opening it upon her lap.
"Chapter Three," she began her voice slightly huskier than usual. "The Man in the Body of the Beast…" Jeffrey returned from the village, stopping along the way at a small shack and picking up some things he needed from the old woman there. His heart was heavy as he made his way along the long road and past the ancient cemetery, pushing through the small side gate and into the yard just as the sun was beginning to set.
Melissa's parents had shown mixed emotions when told that their daughter was needed to live-in as a maid now, instead of coming home as was her habit. Melissa's mother had been ecstatic, more so when given the pouch of coins Jeffrey had been instructed to deliver to them. There was enough money there to have paid for a maid's salary for a year, but it was the master's wishes that they receive it.
Jeffrey would deliver another pouch of coins in a fortnight and then another after that until Nathaniel tired of Melissa or the poor girl ended up dead, as Nathaniel's mother had. If only that lovely lady hadn't gotten pregnant, if only she hadn't made the mistake of being seduced by Nathaniel's father during one of his saner moments, she might still be alive today.
Another child, perhaps another son to be persecuted by this curse would have been an atrocity, at least in Nathaniel's mother's eyes. So she'd taken arsenic, a fitting ending as it was the king's poison. Nathaniel had been the one to find his mot
her's twisted and convulsing body, lifting her in his strong arms and racing to try to save her. But the poison was too fast, and he was too late. She perished in his arms, her last sight her son's tortured face.
Jeffrey could only pray that Melissa would not conceive. If she did, the consequences could serve to drive Nathaniel over the edge and into the beastly madness he fought against so desperately. * * * * "Beastly madness?" Brenna asked, her nose wrinkling at the term. "Oh, it is a fine madness," Garren said, his teeth flashing as he
laughed. "Madness as black and deep as the depths of the ocean." "You're teasing me," she laughed, her eyes sparkling. "If that is what you wish to believe, Brenna pet, then yes, I am teasing you. Now read to me please," he ordered her in his usual raspy growl. "Hmmm, oh yes ...fought against so desperately…"
Jeffrey opened the back door of the manor, passing into the kitchen and setting down his packages. He fed the fire, putting on a pot of water to make tea before turning back to his packages and opening them.
Quickly fixing the herbs he needed, he put them into a bowl and set it carefully aside, washing his hand and throwing the wrapping and stems into the fire where they bloomed with flames wreathed in black. Taking down another bowl, he carefully mixed up enough herbs for tea, placing it into the kettle and pouring in the water that was now hot to let it steep.
He set about making up a platter of frytours, fried cakes that he'd gotten yesterday, setting it upon the big tray service and pouring the tea into the pot, adding milk and sugar and cups to the tray.
With a sigh, he picked up the heavy tray, carrying it up and into the library and setting it down in front of the sofa. That done, he went to find the master. **** Nathaniel sighed, breathing in the sweet scent of Melissa's hair. She was snuggled against him, her back resting against his chest, curved into the shape of his body. His arm was over her waist, his hand entwined with hers. He sighed again; feeling relaxed and at peace for the first time since the curse had taken his body.
"Are you well, Nathaniel?" she asked, looking back at him, her eyes wide."All those sighs sound so sad."
"I've never been happier, little one, than I am right now," he pressed a kiss to her cheek, tucking her head back against his shoulder. "I cannot remember a time when I felt so at ease."
He felt Melissa snuggle back against his furry form, feeling the heat and softness of her body as it rested against his own. She'd been such a surprise, beyond anything he could have imagined, responding to his body with a joy he'd never known.
His gaze grew warmer remembering all she'd done, the words she'd used, the things she'd done to him. He smiled as she gave a small sigh of her own, watching as she closed her eyes. Dipping his head, his lips touched her hair and he tightened his arms around her, wanting her to feel safe in his furry embrace.
Nathaniel knew the moment she fell asleep, for his beastly senses were attuned to her breathing, to the sound of her heart beating, to the slightest sound that came from between her sweet lips. Gently pulling his arm out from under her head, he laid her against the pillow, sitting up and staring down at her.
She was exquisite, but her beauty was not just on the outside. Inside, she was sweet and good and caring, everything that he desired but knew he should walk away from. He would end up hurting her, as his father had his mother, until in the end, she would either leave him or kill herself.
The thought of Melissa's lovely body contorted in pain as his mother's had been sent a shiver of anguish through him. Was it his lot in life to be alone? Must he bear this curse with no recourse and no hope of happiness?
No answer seemed forthcoming as he stared at her and he sighed once again. He was about to lie back down, to gather her into his arms once more, when he heard a scratching at the door. Rising, he threw on the dressing gown he'd brought when he went to her, and pulled the edge of the duvet cover up to shield Melissa's nakedness from the man at the door. He hurried over to answer it before Jeffrey decided to pound upon it and wake her up.
"Did you talk to them?" he asked with no preamble as he threw open the door.
"Yes, Master Nathaniel, I did. I also gave them the coin you authorized."
"And? Come on, man. Don't be all day about it." Nathaniel heard his loud tone and glanced back to where Melissa was sleeping, hoping he hadn't disturbed her.
She still lay where he'd left her, her face turned toward them, her eyes closed. She looked like some fairy princess waiting for her handsome prince to come and kiss her awake, slay the beast, and carry her off on his charger with him.
This beast wouldn't be slain so easily, though , he thought with a grimace.
"Her mother was thrilled with the coin you sent and the order for gowns and uniforms, sir. Her father…" Jeffrey's voice trailed off as he followed Nathaniel's gaze to the bed and saw Melissa's sleeping form. His heart sank. "Master Nathaniel, it would be remiss of me if I didn't remind you of the consequences your actions with the young miss could cause."
"What consequences?" Nathaniel growled, irritated with Jeffrey's attitude. "Becoming with child, sir," Jeffrey said. "Well, don't beat around the bush, Jeffrey, say what you think, man." Nathaniel rubbed his forehead, the rage that had been growing in his stomach now causing his head to pound.
"Would you want to pass down the illness that has made you like this, sir?" Jeffrey asked him pointedly.
"Mind your own business, Jeffrey," Nathaniel growled, the warning coming out harshly.
"You asked me, sir. I just voiced my concerns. Her father wasn't happy with the idea of her staying here in the manor. He thought she belonged at home. I told him we were staffing the place fully and she would be in no danger here. He believed the lie," Jeffrey started to turn, stiffness in his every move at the insult to his dignity. "I have set up tea for the two of you in the library; I shall bring the tray here instead if you wish."
"Jeffrey…" Nathaniel began, only to stop and stare at the man's tense back helplessly. "Haven't you ever wanted something, wanted it so badly that it wouldn't leave your thoughts until you had it? Then when you have it, you realize you only want it more?"
Jeffrey sighed. He knew what the master meant. He'd once felt that way about a woman andhad to watch her die. "Yes," he said softly. "Then you understand how I feel?" "Yes, I do, Nathaniel, but it doesn't mean it's what is best."
* * * * Brenna's voice trailed off and she glanced up at Garren. He was
staring at her, his troubledblue eyes dark with his thoughts. Her own thoughts swirled around until she was dizzy with the confusion of them. She wanted Garren; there was no doubt in her mind about that. She wanted him to take her in his strong arms, to press kisses to her mouth, to take her innocence and make her a woman. His woman.
"Brenna?" he asked, startling her from her thoughts. "Is something wrong, pet?"
"No," she said, but inside her heart was screaming yes. "I just needed to rest my voice for a moment." She reached for the glass of water she neither wanted nor needed, and took a sip. Her hand shook as she went to return it and the glass slid out of her fingers, falling to the bed to spill across his chest.
Garren roared at the sudden coldness of it, jumping away from the spill and out of the bed. He stood next to it, his hand brushing the cold water from his fur.
Brenna's eyes grew wide as she saw him for the first time, naked but for the short fur that covered his body. It was black and thick, growing in a small ruff around his strong neck. The hair on his head was longer than that on his body, for when he was in human form, it would fall to his mid back. He was covered in fur from head to toe, except for his cock.
That hung down his thigh, thick and long even in its flaccid state. It was pale next to his black fur, the skin bare, looking even more naked next to his pelted form. As he moved around, trying to brush off the water, she could see the pair of large balls hanging from their fur covered sac under it.
He was so different looking than she, but so beautiful, his body sculpted and heavily muscled. She couldn't help
but wonder what his cock would look like hard, as it was when he would get aroused by the stories she read. She'd read enough about erections but although she knew the idea of what one would look like, she lacked the practical knowledge.
Garren stopped dead in his tracks, realizing that he stood naked before his young ward. His gaze shot from his chest and the cold water he was trying to get off of his fur, to her, sitting upon the bed, her mouth open as she stared at his naked form. No, not at his naked form, at his cock, her eyes were definitely locked upon that unruly piece of flesh.
As soon as he noticed her staring, it twitched, beginning to rise, to lengthen and widen, until it stood proudly, as if basking in her admiring gaze. He bit back the groan that wanted to come from his lips, trying to force himself to get back into the bed, to force himself to relax as if it was an everyday event for her to see him nude.
But his legs refused to move. He could do nothing but stand there as she climbed down from his high bed, coming around the tall posts to stand before him, so tiny next to his towering form.
"I always wondered what it would look like," she murmured. "I wanted to pull the covers off of you when you played with it. I wanted to watch while you stroked it while you listened to me read. I wanted to help, to touch it myself," she said softly, reaching out with one hesitant hand, her palm carefully cupping him.
Her skin was hot against his length, almost searing in the intensity of sensation it aroused. He growled, low and deep in his throat, fighting the urge to thrust himself into her hand, to show her the way he liked to be stroked, to let her touch him until he exploded in her beautiful little fingers.
"It wasn't the story," he groaned as she wrapped her fingers around him, her hand stroking over the bare skin of his cock. "It was watching you that always made me come, Brenna, never the stories."
Her eyes searched his blue gaze for the truth of his words. "Then why would you never let me help?"