The Beast's Bride

by Myles, Jill

  Until she got bored. And then she came to Pippa and complained. "Pippy, people are just standing around." She stuck out her lower lip in a sultry pout that would have made most men weak in the knees.

  "Well, what about music? Or dancing?"

  She shook her head, appalled at the thought. "The musicians here have pig heads and they won't wear the hoods."

  "Oh. I hadn't realized there were musicians." She hadn't seen them yet, but shuddered at the thought of pig-headed men. Ick. Pippa thought for a moment. "Perhaps a party game?"

  Belle brightened. "A party game? What kind?"

  Pippa raised her hands. "Don't look at me. The only one I know is Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle."

  "Bottle?"

  "Never mind." They probably didn't have bottles here.

  "What is Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

  "Um, it's a game that teenagers play. Someone gets picked and they pick someone to go spend seven minutes in the makeout closet with. Or something. It's been a few years since I've played something like that." Like ten years.

  Belle's eyes gleamed with a wicked spark. "I think I like the sound of this game."

  Oh dear. That cunning look on Belle's face made her concerned. Then again, this might be the perfect time to get Belle and Duncan together. "Perfect, then," Pippa said and made her voice sugary sweet. "But the rules state that everyone in the room has to play. Everyone."

  "Oh." Belle's horrified gaze went to the beast. "Oh. I don't know if people will like that."

  Pippa shrugged. "Your game."

  "And what does one do in the closet?" Her eyes were shrewd.

  "Whatever you can do in seven minutes."

  7"Let's play," Belle said impulsively. She and Pippa hashed out the rules for a few minutes, discussing how to set it up. They decided that everyone would stand along the edges of the wall and one person would be blindfolded to start the game (this would be Belle, of course). She would select someone, and that person would pick who they wished to go into the 'closet' with.

  The selected person would return, and then be blindfolded and select the next person that way. It bastardized the rules a bit, but Belle seemed excited by it.

  And this way, Pippa thought, there was a chance of Duncan being selected by a blindfolded person. She gave him a thumbs up as she moved back to his side.

  Belle clapped her hands loudly, raising them above her head to get everyone's attention. "We are going to play a game, everyone! A kissing game."

  There were hoots and hollers of excitement, and some uneasy glances in the beast's direction.

  "I need everyone to move along the walls of the room," Belle explained. "And we'll get a blindfold."

  The rules were explained as a long red sash (in Duncan's family colors) was produced. Belle was blindfolded, and she wandered the room, waiting to select the first person. Out of the corner of her eye, Pippa noticed the tension setting into Duncan's broad shoulders. He was oddly…anxious about this. Her heart ached for him as Belle's outstretched hands moved right past him and towards a young, handsome village boy about Belle's age. Her hands grasped his jerkin, and then she patted his chest. "I choose you."

  The blindfold was removed, and Belle gave a little squeal of excitement at the sight of the person she'd tapped. "Henry! You're first. Who do you pick to spend your seven heavenly minutes with?"

  The boy named Henry reached out and took Belle's hand in his, then kissed the back of it. "I choose our lovely hostess!"

  Naturally.

  Right away, Pippa could see this would be a mistake, judging by the fake modesty that Belle exuded. She pressed a hand to her cheek as if shocked by this decision, all the while leading Henry towards the doors that had been designated as the 'closet' area.

  The ballroom had no closet, of course, so they'd improvised and shut off an adjoining room.

  Pippa suspected that, once upon a time, it was meant to be a sitting room of some kind, but now it was empty of everything except for the curtains hanging over the windows.

  7Belle disappeared inside the room, and the doors shut behind them.

  Long, uncomfortable minutes passed as someone near the door counted aloud, a smirk on his face. The ballroom was full of titters and low conversation. Then, when Pippa was getting antsy, someone knocked on the door and Belle and Henry emerged. Belle's hair was mussed, her face flushed. She smiled brightly and wobbled as she left the room, clearly having been thoroughly kissed. Henry looked rather proud of himself as he accepted the blindfold and began to move about the room.

  A moment later, Henry paused in front of a giggling woman, who grabbed her gray-haired husband by the arm and they disappeared into the closet. Pippa relaxed a little at that. It was cute, and they looked like they were having fun. When they emerged, the husband moved about the room, blindfolded, and picked the next person—another village boy.

  Who immediately picked Belle.

  This…was going to be a problem. As time passed and people chatted and mingled as they waited for the closeted pair to emerge and a new pair to be selected, Pippa began to grow antsier.

  Each unattached man that was selected to go into the closet immediately picked Belle. The village girls looked annoyed but resigned, and the men elbowed each other with approval each time a flushed, happy Belle emerged from the closet, fresh from her latest makeout session.

  No one was even looking in Duncan’s direction. Pippa glanced at him on his throne. He remained in place next to her, utterly silent. How did he feel, watching his intended bride go and make out with man after man? It couldn't be a good feeling, but Pippa didn't know how to stop this party game now that it had started. After all, she'd been fine with it as long as it gave the opportunity for Belle to get some quality alone time with Duncan.

  But it didn't look as if that would be the case.

  Several pairs in, though, one of the blindfolded men wandered close to their end of the ballroom. Yes, Pippa thought. Come closer and pick Duncan so he can pick Belle.

  The man paused in front of Pippa for a moment, and her eyes widened with alarm. Oh hell.

  She couldn't pick anyone at this party. She couldn't pick Duncan, and she didn't know anyone else. So she did the only thing she could think of.

  She sank to her knees and pretended to fix the lacings on one of her shoes.

  8There was a ripple of laughter in the crowd as the man's searching hands passed right over her crouching figure and moved to her side…to Duncan. The man's hands grasped at Duncan's jerkin, and then he touched Duncan's paw.

  And froze. Recoiled.

  But that was enough of a pause. Pippa jumped to her feet. "Duncan has been chosen! His turn in the closet!"

  Immediately, the room seemed to take an involuntary step backward. Hushed, frightened whispers of 'the beast' touched Pippa's ears, even as she gently steered Duncan forward with a nudge on the shoulder, past the shivering man in the blindfold.

  "Make your selection," Pippa called loudly, and then leaned in to whisper, "Belle is in the corner. To your right." As if she needed to tell him that—Belle stood out like a radiant sun amongst the clouds in her finery.

  The beast surveyed the room, and as he did, Pippa frowned, noticing that people avoided eye contact and shifted on their feet awkwardly. Oh sure, this game was fun as long as they all got to make out with Belle, right? But as soon as the tables were turned, everyone freaked?

  For a moment, Pippa hated everyone on Duncan's behalf. Surely they would realize that he wasn't all beast through and through? And that he was a really good kisser?

  And of course, that made her have just the tiniest twinge of jealousy.

  To Pippa's surprise, instead of striding toward Belle and claiming her, Duncan turned to Pippa. His leonine yellow eyes focused on her face, and after a long moment of consideration, he announced, "I choose you."

  Pippa's jaw dropped, just a little. She ignored the overloud exhalation of relief in the crowd.

  "Me?"

  He e
xtended his paw to her, to take her hand. "Yes. Join me."

  But that didn't make sense. She'd intended for him to pick Belle, like everyone else. Pippa hesitated a moment, then placed her hand in his paw and let him lead her forward. She couldn't exactly turn him away or point him to Belle, not when every eye in the ballroom was on them.

  So she kept her expression serene as they walked the distance to the far end of the room, and remained still as they entered the 'closet' and the doors were shut behind them. The room was immediately pitch black, only a thin line of light showing under the door itself. Immediately, Pippa could hear the sound of counting begin.

  8And wow, this felt like high school all over again, except that she was in the closet with an enchanted prince who was a beast, and who was betrothed to her sister.

  A man that she wanted desperately and was forbidden to have.

  She turned to face Duncan and kept her voice in a low whisper so no one could hear them talk. "Why did you do that?"

  "Do what?" His eyes flashed in the dark, and she wondered how well he could see. She couldn't see anything, but she felt his presence next to her, warm and strong.

  "Pick me? You were supposed to pick Belle!" She threw her hands up, not caring that it was a useless gesture in the darkness. "That was the point of this whole game."

  "The point of this game was to entertain your sister," Duncan said in his rough voice. A hand touched her cheek and stroked it. "And I am here with the only person that I wished to kiss."

  "I…oh." The breath sucked out of Pippa's lungs at those romantic words. "This is wrong.

  Terribly wrong. You're meant for Belle."

  But when she felt his mouth hover close to hers in a silent question, his breath warming her skin, she tilted her face back and closed her eyes, waiting for his kiss.

  His lips brushed over hers in the lightest, sweetest of caresses. Just a soft graze of flesh against hers, enough to send shivers through her body. Pippa gave a low moan at the sensation, and she felt his own rumble of response in his chest—something like a cross between a purr and a groan. Then, one large hand was cupping the back of her head, and she was pulled against him.

  The kiss became hot and hungry. His tongue stroked against her lips, asking a silent question.

  So she opened her mouth and accepted him, accepted all of him.

  In the dark, with her eyes closed, he didn't feel like a beast. He felt like any man, and he kissed wonderfully. Their lessons had gone well, Pippa realized with a daze, because he was kissing the hell out of her and making her legs weak with need. His tongue stroked into her mouth with abandon, tongue flirting with hers in a way that made her grow slick between her legs. She whimpered against his mouth when his tongue thrust hard into her mouth in a mimic of sex, and she pressed her body against him.

  "Sweet Pippa," he breathed against her, and she felt his big hand on her waist, pulling her against him. "I would kiss no one but you for all my days, if you would let me."

  She moaned, and when her body pressed against his, she felt the scalding heat of his erection stabbing against her stomach. Her fingers curled and she wanted to caress him, to give him the 8same pleasure he was sending through her body in such intense ripples. So she slid her hand down his front and found his cock, caressing it with a stroke.

  He hissed in surprise, then groaned, thrusting into her hand.

  That excited her tremendously, and she rubbed him through the fabric, even as his hands roamed over her body, his mouth continuing to consume hers with wicked kiss after wicked kiss.

  His lips nibbled at hers even as his hand slid to her ass and cupped it. She continued to stroke his length, enjoying the shudders it sent through his body.

  She was surprised when he pushed her hand away and took a step backward.

  "I'm sorry—"

  "Nay," he breathed, and pulled her against him again, pressing a wild kiss to her mouth to silence her. "Do not be sorry. I cannot spill in my trousers in front of all and sundry, else they will think me more a beast than they already do."

  "Oh." And for some reason, that made her giggle slightly. "No, I guess you can't."

  He continued to kiss her, and then tugged on her bun, a silent request for her to tilt her head back. So she did, and moaned when his tongue moved along her neck, tracing the hollows of her throat. "But it does not mean I cannot touch you, does it? And it would give me great pleasure to touch you, sweet Pippa."

  And his hand boldly went to her front and cupped one of her breasts.

  She moaned at his touch, that hot hand erotic even through the layers of fabric of her dress.

  She felt him step forward, and she staggered, clinging to him as he moved.

  And then they were up against a wall, the cool stone at her back. And the beast was still holding her against him, still kissing and licking the hell out of her neck in a way that made her hips want to shamelessly rock against him. Her fingers moved to his lion's mane and she clung to him.

  She was so dazed by the sensations that the feel of his hand on her leg made her suck in a breath. And then Pippa moaned again as he continued to travel up, past her knee, sliding up her thigh.

  "Let me touch you the way you touched me, Pippa," the beast whispered at her neck. "Tell me to stop and I will."

  Stop? Hell no. She moaned again, her fingers digging into his thick mane in encouragement.

  She wanted him to keep going.

  8He groaned and his large hand slid toward her inner thigh, hesitating for a moment.

  "Please," Pippa whispered.

  Duncan's hand moved up, and then he cupped her mound. She was not wearing panties—

  since they didn't seem to believe in the things in this time—and his fingers immediately found her wetness. She felt the hiss of his breath against her throat.

  "So soft and wet," he growled, and she shivered in response, her back arching. She desperately needed his touch. Craved it. Squirmed against his hand.

  "More, please," she told him, and rocked against his palm. "Touch me. Explore me. Make me feel good."

  He brushed his fingers over her pussy, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching her, and she felt his mouth press another hot kiss to her exposed collarbone. Then, a thick finger stroked over the seam of her sex and Pippa froze, her fingers digging in to his mane . Just like that…but more, she thought.

  As if reading her mind, his finger slid between the lips of her sex and then he stroked through her wetness.

  She whimpered. "Yes, Duncan."

  He growled again, stroked through her soft petals, his large digit carefully exploring her.

  "The scent of you is so lush, Pippa. I want to take it in my mouth and taste it."

  She moaned at the thought, squirming against the wall as she clung to him.

  But he continued to slowly stroke through her slickness, discovering every inch of her. He slid his finger into her wet opening and circled there, and she bit her lip, desperately doing her best not to bear down on him and take her pleasure. This was about him learning her body, and she didn't want to drive him toward anything. She wanted him to learn what he liked.

  But when he brushed a finger over her clit, she was unable to stop the breathless gasp that escaped her lips.

  He froze against her, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

  "Sorry," she breathed. "I'm not trying to push you in one direction or another. Touch me how you like."

  "Did I hurt you?"

  He truly was a virgin, wasn't he? It was charming…and sad all at once. Poor lonely beast.

  Her lonely man. "No…when you touch me there, it feels incredible."

  8"When I touch this little bud?" And his fingers stroked it again, as if his confidence grew again.

  She gave a soft cry in response that had him shifting to cover her mouth with his, to swallow her sounds. She kissed him frantically, ever aware of the fingertip that still rested atop her clit, clinging to him. God, he felt so incredibly good.

  "Pi
ppa," he groaned, pressing between her spread legs and hiked up skirts, and he began to kiss her hard again, his tongue thrusts wild and abandoned. He hiked her leg up with his other hand, spreading her for him, and his other continued to explore and play with her clit, all the while she whimpered and gasped and clung to him. He quickly learned which movements made her wild - when he took two fingers and rolled her clit between them, or when he dipped a finger into her wet warmth and then stroked circles around her clit with it. Those little motions drove her into a frenzy of need, until she was clinging to him, hips bucking as he stroked her, making wild little cries in the back of her throat. She was lost in the pleasure of his touch, lost to everything but Duncan, his kiss, his hands, his big form pinning her against the wall.

  She came with a violent cry that he swallowed with his kiss, grunting his own pleasure at her response, continuing to rub her with his fingers as he racked shudder after shudder from her.

  "Sweet Pippa," he growled low in his throat. "My sweet Pippa."

  The counting grew louder, and then came to a halt, and Pippa's dazed mind barely registered what was happening. The door opened a crack, letting light flood in.

  And Duncan turned and snarled, the sound feral and animalistic. " Not yet."

  The man at the door yelped and slammed the door shut again.

  "Oh," Pippa breathed, reality returning. "Oh lord."

  She'd just let her sister's betrothed finger her in the closet. And she'd come like a shameless wanton. Good lord.

  But he kissed her so tenderly that she couldn't be sorry. And then helped her arrange her skirts and smooth her hair before they emerged. Pippa's face was burning as Duncan opened the doors again, and then gestured for her to walk first.

  The walk of shame, times a thousand.

  Pippa resisted the urge to smooth her hair again and kept her back straight, shoulders back, as she marched out into the silent ballroom as if nothing had happened. This time, instead of 8averting their eyes, people stared at her openly, a mixture of horror and consternation in their eyes. She'd just made out with the terrible, horrible beast, after all.

  Except she seemed to be the only one that didn't find him so horrible. He was just a man, a lonely man cursed to spend his days in a particular kind of torture. And he called to her.