Taming the Beast: Eleven Paranormal Romances

by Alyse Zaftig

  Belle

  Late that night, when manor and town alike were silent and nothing stirred anywhere, Belle and Gastard snuck out of the manor. Surprisingly, many of the manor staff had decided to stay and continue to work for Belle, in human form. A vast majority of the ones who had left also promised that they’d be back to work too, once they’d had some time to reconnect with friends and family.

  Whether the manor was full or empty though, didn’t matter at the moment, for what needed to be done now, to break the last curse, needed to be done outside, anyway, Belle was quite sure of it.

  She’d already told Gastard her plan to break the last curse, as she knew that once they stepped outside together, there’d be no way to speak. When she told him her plan he laughed out loud.

  “You’re telling me that to break the last curse, the curse we now share, we need to literally make ‘The Beast With Two Backs?’”

  “Makes sense, doesn’t it? This form was intended to keep everyone from wanting me, only it didn’t work. You still wanted me. Our joinings here in the manor caused this curse, doesn’t it make sense that our joining, outside this manor, in our cursed forms, would break it? I mean, that would show dad, right? If we found and fucked each other in the forms designed to keep us from fucking at all?”

  “It does make sense, in a warped way. Although, to be honest, I considered doing it already. Earlier, when we went to town on our mission to see if my curse would alter itself back once I was off your property, I thought about testing the only other part of my original curse—the inability to find release. But I knew we had the entire manor waiting to hear our results.

  I’m game, of course. I’ll fuck you anywhere you want, anytime you want me to. Indoors or out, human or beast, your wants are my wants, my love. And your needs are my needs. If pleasuring you outside will prove that my original curse is broken, and break this last one as well, freeing you once and for all, I’ll gladly do it.

  Hell, I’d do it even if it had no other purpose than to please you, because you asked me to. I’m under your spell, Belle. I always have been and always will be, no matter the form that takes. That’s one spell that will never, ever be broken. So lead on, my love. I’ll follow you anywhere. Let’s do this.”

  They slipped outside together, becoming beasts the very moment they did.

  Belle led Gastard away from the town, back behind the manor, confident that they’d not be seen. She was oddly nervous, and wandered even further from the manor than she’d intended, just because she was unsure of how to proceed from here.

  She wanted him badly, that wasn’t the issue. She just didn’t know how to stop walking and start… not… walking.

  Maybe he sensed that and took pity on her, or maybe he just couldn’t wait anymore himself, but either way, when he reached a paw out and stopped her progress, she was grateful.

  She stood still, in case she’d misunderstood and he’d stopped her because he heard someone coming, or scented some other danger. She thought for a moment about how far she had come, from not wanting to leave the manor walls and even become this beast, even as it kept her from her one true love, to now.

  Now she didn’t even think twice about this form. Not what he’d think when he looked at her, not of how large and unwieldy she felt. This form had become a part of who she was now, and she’d almost miss it once it was gone.

  Almost, but not quite.

  She felt Gastard step toward her, felt the heat of him as he stood so close behind her. She was already ready, the mere thought of what they were going to do tonight making her ache with the slow burn of anticipation since the moment she’d had the thought.

  All it would take now was the slightest push, the lightest touch, and she’d drop to all fours and howl at the moon, offering all that she was to him, now and for always.

  When he leaned forward, simultaneously wrapping a huge arm around her and biting her neck at the same time, she knew she was done for. She threw her head back, offering him more of her neck, submitting completely.

  He bit her there again, and leaned forward, folding her in half with him. With a quick rock of his hips it was done. He slid home, his beastly cock meeting no resistance at all, as she’d been ready for this for a long time.

  She howled as he filled her, and whimpered as he pulled back, leaving her empty. He rocked into her again, and she sang. She tilted her hips back to accept him, to welcome him, and it was on. Grunting and thrusting they couldn’t get enough of each other. His claws dug into her fur for purchase and she rotated them, grabbing onto a tree trunk for leverage, leaving claw marks that would be seen for years.

  She pushed her hips backward, rocking with him, grinding against him, until she noticed how warm the breeze was against her heated flesh.

  She was flesh!

  She was flesh, not fur, and she was still outside!

  It had worked, the curse was lifted!

  She looked backward, over her shoulder, and saw Gastard, in all of his beautifully sculpted, naked, human glory, thrusting deep, pounding her hard.

  “Yes! Oh, fuck yes!” she called out into the night, as she gave herself up to him yet again.

  His hand slid around, his fingers finding her clit. No scratching claws found her, just the thick pads of his strong fingers, strumming her in all the ways that she loved. He played her, sliding along, teasing music from her, bringing her closer to her own release even as he stroked toward his own.

  His other hand found her breast, squeezing one as the other swayed with each hard, purposeful stroke. He teased her nipple, pinching then soothing, and the twinge of pain took her higher.

  She bent over a little more, sliding a hand between her legs, over his hand as he worked her faster and faster, til she found what she was reaching for.

  His balls filled her palm, and she rolled and gently tugged them just the way he liked until she heard his gasped grunts fill her ear.

  “Oh, yeah. Just like that, Belle. I feel your pussy getting even tighter around my cock. I feel you squeezing me just right. You’re going to come for me, aren’t you? That’s right, baby. I know what you like. Take my cock, take it all.”

  Belle moaned Gastard’s name into the wind, arching her back to take him deeper. She felt his grip change, his strokes picking up speed, staying deep but rocking shallow. His fingers circled and pressed, sliding slick as his cock filled and stretched her until he pinched a nipple and bit the tender spot on her neck, sending her over the orgasmic edge.

  Her pussy squeezed and throbbed around him, driving him crazy and pushing him closer. He let go of her tit and clit, instead gripping her hips tight and pulling her to him even as he thrust into her, pushing her away. The push-pull drove his cock deeper, his sensitive, round head bottoming out as the walls of her pussy gripped him, squeezing him in waves, until he gave in and screamed out.

  His guttural yell told her everything. He was there, he’d caught up with her on the other side of paradise and they saw stars together as he filled her with every throbbing, gushing burst of his warm seed that she could possibly take.

  She was his and he was hers, and that’s how they would always be. Fucking and sucking, indoors and out, christening every inch of the manor and its grounds over the next many years, knowing that it would’ve pissed her father off to no end.

  Why?

  They didn’t know, as chasing tale was old as time, their orgasmic song was old as rhyme, and the physical beauty of their love had tamed their beasts. Curses broken, beasts dispatched, the pair went on to live a very happily ever after.

  Part X

  The Rogue and the Rose

  Amanda Jones

  Prologue

  Six years ago:

  The first moment I met Scott I became a babbling fool, completely overwhelmed by his model-handsome face and his charm. It wasn’t until a few months later that I discovered charm was his manipulation tactic, and he handed it out like flowers to any woman he thought could do something for him. I was nineteen
years old and in my first year of college when I saw Scott at my sister’s high school softball game. My sister Mae was a senior, a starting pitcher, popular and smart. It didn’t occur to me at the time to wonder why a thirty-two-year-old man would be attending a high school softball game when he didn’t have a family or friend playing.

  People surrounded him when I saw him the first time, mothers of other players and other girls still in high school. I zeroed in on Scott from where I was sitting at the top of the bleachers. He stood near the concession stand about twenty feet away, and I thought he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He wasn’t dressed like the boys I knew. He was wearing dress slacks and a pressed dress shirt, tucked in with a leather belt. He had on a watch that looked understated and elegant, and was sure to be expensive. His dark blonde hair was stylishly cut, and his shoes looked like something out of GQ.

  I stared at him when suddenly he turned his head and locked eyes with me. My body flushed all over from his stare, but I couldn’t look away. I was completely entranced by him. My mother smacked me on the arm and said, “Rose! Stop staring at that man, he’s too old for you!” Which of course made him all the more appealing: telling a nineteen-year-old girl she shouldn’t do something only makes them want it more.

  I walked down the bleachers and watched Scott the entire way. He’d stopped talking to anyone else, and was waiting for me at the bottom. I was almost there when he reached out and took my hand to help me over the last step. I wasn’t used to this type of behavior from guys. It seemed so gallant, and I was almost awe struck. He let go of my hand when I reached the ground and I stood there as I stared up into his hazel eyes and thought he was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

  “I’m Scott,” he said, and then he smiled at me. He was looking only at me, as if no one else existed. I was flattered to think that I was able to get his undivided attention, out of all the women there.

  “I’m Rose.”

  “You’re definitely not in high school, not the way you look,” he said with a devilish twinkle in his eye and this should have been my first clue to be wary. But the way he said it seemed like a sweet compliment, instead of the lecherous statement it most certainly was.

  “Thanks!” I said, flattered again, flustered and out of my element.

  “I go to UMASS, I’m just here to watch my sister pitch, otherwise I wouldn’t be back at high school, you know…” I trailed off because he had smiled at me and I couldn’t think of another word to say.

  “It’s obvious you’re much more mature than these high school girls,” he said, as his eyes roamed my body. I was amazed that someone so handsome would ever look at me like that. I had seven sisters, and I wasn’t known for being the pretty one, so the attention from a man like him was intoxicating.

  He asked me to go for a ride with him, and I quickly accepted. I left the game without saying goodbye to my family. Why should I have to? I was a grown woman, after all. I could make my own decisions.

  It never occurred to me to ask why he was at the game, or whom he came with. We walked down the dirt path to the school parking lot, and I noticed the veins on the back of his hand as he twirled his car keys. His hands looked so strong and sexy. He walked over to a BMW and opened the passenger door for me. No guy had ever done that for me before. On the unusual occasions when I dated someone, they honked the horn when they showed up to get me, or more often than not, expected me to pick them up.

  I got in and inhaled the scent of him and the car before he sat in the driver’s seat. It was a woodsy, smoky scent, combined with his cologne, and it made my nineteen-year-old head spin. He pressed a button and opened the roof of the convertible. He seemed like he had a lot of money, and for a naïve, small town girl, this was very impressive. He asked me if I wanted to go to the beach for a walk, and of course I said yes, since this all seemed terribly romantic.

  By this time, I had convinced myself that it was fate that had brought us to the game at the same time; that we were destined to meet. We walked along the beach and talked about where he grew up (NYC), his family (one sister he was very close to, and his parents who had passed away), and his job (investment banker in Boston).

  He told me he felt so at ease with me, as if we had known each other forever. He usually had trouble talking to people, and allowing people to see the real him, especially women. He didn’t understand why he could open up to me since we had just met, but this was the first time he had ever felt this type of connection with a woman.

  Of course, I ate this up like a starving woman eats a Snickers bar. I hung on his every word, astonished that little ol’ me could make this much of an impression on a man like him. I bought it all, hook, line and sinker. By the end of our two-hour walk on the beach, I was convinced I was in love with him.

  We slowly walked up the boardwalk and back to his car. It was early evening, so not many people were around. He stopped me on the boardwalk, told me he didn’t normally do this, but could he please kiss me? He’d wanted to ask all afternoon he said, since the moment he saw me in the bleachers. I said yes of course, so he framed my face in his hands and gave me the sweetest, most romantic kiss I had ever received.

  I clung to him like a barnacle while he kissed me over and over, and he only let his tongue enter my mouth at the end, but even then only slightly. I took this to mean that he respected me as a woman, and didn’t want to rush things. I was a virgin and Scott seemed so mature and worldly; I saw stars when he kissed me.

  After that day we were inseparable. My parents didn’t know how much we saw each other because he would pick me up at my dorm. They expressed displeasure about the fact that he was thirty-two-years-old, but I didn’t want to hear anything negative about the man I was fated to be with, so I just kept it all to myself.

  Scott always picked me up. We never went to his place in Boston since he thought it was too far away, and he would rather spend time with me doing things together than driving all the time. I never questioned this. He took me out for nice dinners, bought me flowers, contacted me when he said he would and was very attentive.

  After about a week we slept together in my dorm room. I didn’t care that the bed was small or that we weren’t in a romantic hotel, because all I wanted was to be with Scott. I thought the sex would be amazing, and it was at first. When I had an orgasm with Scott, you’d have thought he’d hung the moon the way I reacted. He made me feel special, and when he told me he loved me after we made love the first time, I said it back, knowing we would be together for the rest of our lives.

  As we lay there in my tiny bed, I basked in the glow of True Love, never realizing my life would change forever in just a few minutes.

  “I want you again,” he said, as he nuzzled my neck. I flushed with happiness, still not quite able to believe that this perfect man wanted me.

  “Good,” I said as I turned into his arms once more. But this time was different. What had been sweet and kind an hour before, became aggressive and painful. He scratched his nails down my back, and they were so sharp I knew he had drawn blood.

  “Scott, stop,” I said, as I attempted to push him away. He stopped, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I noticed he had inhaled very deeply, ecstasy and possession combined in his expression. I was really frightened then.

  What was happening? Who had he become?

  He pushed me hard back onto the bed; I struggled but to no avail. I begged him to stop, without any knowledge of what I was really begging him not to do. He was thick against my thigh, and I was disgusted with him for the first time since I’d met him. He pushed my legs apart and slid inside, and I still struggled. He hurt me; I realized that was his intent. He scratched my back further with his incredibly sharp nails, and I cried out. He pulled back and I saw his face above mine, but I didn’t recognize it. His eyes were red; his teeth were pointed. I was unable to comprehend that before he leaned down and bit into my neck. I screamed then, as he drew the blood from my body. It seemed to go on forever and s
oon I was hazy and light-headed.

  Finally, he stopped. Unable to move, I watched with hooded eyes as he dressed. Everything was gray in my vision, and without much concern, I wondered if I would die. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked down at me and chuckled in a self-satisfied way. Still incapacitated, I heard what he said as if I was underwater.

  “Virgin blood. God, you were a lot of work, but so worth it in the end,” he laughed again, his face and body back to the incredibly handsome visage I knew. I listened in horror to his next words, up until that point not quite understanding what he’d really done.

  “Welcome to a life everlasting, Rose. I’ve done you a favor, although you might not see it that way at first.” He adjusted his cuffs and continued, “You’re special now. You were nothing before, just some dumpy girl from a nothing town. I’ve given you a gift. You’re not a virgin anymore, so you’re welcome for that. I’ve changed you, but you won’t really know how much for a few weeks.” With that cryptic comment, he slammed the door behind him. I never saw him again.

  I waited, scared to death. I wasn’t completely naïve, but what he had implied was impossible. Those “things” only existed in movies. During that time, my vision became clearer, my hearing became acute, my senses became, well, extra somehow. I prayed to a God I wasn’t sure I believed in that nothing would happen to me.

  All of that praying was for nothing. My worst fears were realized. I hid in the backyard as a thirst for blood swelled inside of me. The need was absolute, and to my horror, I considered going inside the house. To my family. I fought it back for hours, crying and praying some more. My life was over. I was a vampire. I was a monster.

  Chapter 1