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

by Rosetta Bloom

Beast reached a furry hand out and brushed a stray auburn hair from Beauty’s face. “It certainly did help you. I think it proved quite useful.”

  Beauty laughed, and thought back to their sex earlier. It had been extraordinary. She blushed and closed her eyes, reliving when he plunged deep inside her for the first time. The shock, at his size, at the sensation, at the ripples of pleasure that passed through her in that moment. She opened her eyes, shook her head. “You’re the one who proved quite useful.”

  He smiled lasciviously, “I do know a thing or two,” he said, pulling her toward him. “So, this Giselle, she bought them at a book shop?” he said, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling at her neck.

  Beauty pulled back. “I have no idea,” she said, laughing. “Why do you care? How did you come by them?”

  Beast shrugged. “They were in the library. But, they seem to be rare editions, and given how Catholic the area is, they don’t seem to be something the local minister would encourage young maidens to read or be happy that Giselle was showing them around.”

  Beauty nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “I was quite surprised anyone published them. This Ferus Lucunditas can’t be popular with the church where he lives. Though, maybe he’s a pagan and doesn’t care.”

  Beast frowned. “A pagan?” he asked. “Because he enjoys telling love stories that include all the parts — stories that tell in detail how a man should love a woman, and how she might love him — he must be a pagan?”

  Beauty raised an eyebrow. “You’re right, but people generally, they just don’t talk about it. And it’s just that I was frightened to read it when I first got it, when I first saw what it was. Giselle just told me to keep it private, to only read it at home. My father saw the cover a couple of times, but because it’s so nondescript, he never really took much notice of it. Thankfully. So, Mr. Lucunditas must be very brave, or it’s a nom de plume.”

  “It is,” Beast said, matter of factly. “It’s Latin. Ferus means Ferocious, and Lucunditas means Pleasure. It is a book of ferocious pleasure.”

  Beauty opened her mouth in a little O, a look that turned Beast on, immensely. He could feel the blood flowing to his lower region. He pulled Beauty toward him, and kissed her. His hands found her ass, and cupped them through the layers of clothing. He wondered why women wore so many layers of clothing — chemises, petticoats, skirts, corsets. It might be easier if she walked around naked. Though, if she walked around naked, they would spend their days doing nothing but what he planned to do with her now.

  He ripped the layers of her skirts and petticoats right off her. She pulled back, looked up at him, as if shocked. “Is this you being ferocious?” she asked, licking her lips, he was sure with the goal of turning him on, further.

  “Yes,” he growled lowly. “If that’s alright with you.”

  She took a step back, naked from the waist down. She walked away from him, over toward the sofa in a corner. She sat down with her book as if she intended to read, but it was clear she had no intention of reading. She reclined, lying on her back, popping the book open randomly to a page, then spread her legs so he could see her wonderful pink lips that already appeared to be moist. She asked coyly, “And if I said it wasn’t alright?”

  Beast came toward her, closing the distance quickly. He looked longingly at her open legs, focusing on the curly brown hair between them. He touched the area gently with his fingers, feeling the hair that was already moist at the lips of her opening. He breathed heavily and stared at her. “Then I would stop,” he said. “If you said it wasn’t alright with you, then I wouldn’t continue.”

  Beauty frowned, and began to unbutton her corset. “You, Beast, have a wealth of self-control,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Not as much as you think, but I make efforts to respect your wishes, even when you’re toying with me.”

  She smiled. “I’m sorry,” she said, raising an eyebrow as she slipped the corset off, then pulled the remains of her tattered chemise over her head. “I am not toying with you. I want you to be ferocious with me. I want to feel ferocious pleasure.”

  “As you wish,” he said, then buried his face in her breast, suckling them. He grabbed her derriere harshly, squeezing the buns tightly. Not too tight as to cause pain, but enough grip to be noticed. She moaned, “Oh.”

  He bent down and placed his face between her legs. He licked the inside of her thigh, and she moaned. Then he grabbed both thighs with his hands and pressed them back further, giving him more room. He slid his tongue into her, licked the side of both lips, and then used his tongue to tickle her sweet spot. He heard her breathe out another, “Oh,” and did it again. Her legs tightened around his head, and he slid his tongue down her lips. Then, he darted it inside her, slid it round, and listened to her moan, feeling her body shudder with delight. He kept it up until she grabbed the top of his head and said, “I need you in me.”

  He withdrew his head from her crotch and gently flipped her over so she was on her knees. She seemed surprised but didn’t verbalize any objections. He looked down at her perky ass, the round cheeks so perfect and slightly red from where he’d squeezed them. He rubbed her bum with his palm, then leaned all the way forward, so his face was near hers, and licked her neck, his tongue tracing its way down her back. He slid a finger inside her, the warm moistness immediate and pleasant. He used the lubrication to rub, to rub that little area that so turned her on when he massaged it. He heard her moan, an octave higher than before. The moisture kept coming, and she got louder, so he withdrew his finger and slid in his penis. She gasped and then let out a yelp of pleasure as he pushed further in. He gave a hard thrust, and she said, “Dear God.”

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  A ragged breath escaped her, followed by, “Yes.” She moaned, “Don’t stop.”

  He wasn’t sure he could stop if he wanted to. He pushed again, hard, causing her butt cheeks to jiggle. Beauty was on all fours, so he reached underneath and grabbed her breasts and squeezed gently as he thrust harder and faster. With every thrust, Beauty gave a breathy, joyful shriek. He watched the muscles of her back tense and contract with the thrust, and her hair shake, thumping against her neck and back in the same rhythm as his thrusts. He could feel her contracting tighter around his massive cock, could feel her body readying itself to orgasm, to shudder and convulse in pleasure, and he wanted to come with her.

  His hairy fingers played with her nipples now, and she moaned louder. He pushed once and then exploded inside her. The release felt good, and he smacked her ass and smiled. “Was that ferocious enough pleasure for you?” he asked as he pulled out of her.

  She flipped over, a smile of pure delight on her face. “More than enough,” she said, and then he curled up on the sofa with her. He wrapped his arms around her, and soon they both fell asleep.

  Chapter 14

  Beauty had lived with the Beast for two months now. They spent a great deal of their time having sex. Beauty was thrilled to explore this side of herself. She liked being with Beast, especially the physical pleasure he offered her, over and over and over again. But, also his company during the day and evenings. He was charming, well-read, and often humorous.

  He enjoyed walking the grounds with her and tending to the gardens. They’d often just sit and read to each other. If she’d known then what she knew now, she would not have dreaded coming to live here with Beast at all.

  In fact, they were living like a husband and wife. This is partly what bothered her. They had not, in fact, been married. Yet, she was like his wife. Only, Beast insisted that being his wife meant something more than this. It meant her making a choice. But did it? He kept insisting she had a choice, when there really wasn’t one. She had to be here with him. That was their bargain, their agreement. Saying she would be his wife would not change things in the least.

  They had just had sex, and Beast lay entwined with her, his furry legs tangled with her own. She looked at his monstrously large legs and sighed. />
  “What’s wrong, Beauty?” Beast asked, stroking her arm. “You’ve been a bit distant lately.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say. That she missed her father. What did it matter? She couldn’t leave. That was her promise. But…but what if he changed his mind? Surely he had to understand how difficult it was to leave family behind. He had to have had a family once.

  “I’ve just been thinking,” she said. “About you. Wondering what you did with yourself before I came.”

  Beast looked away, then spoke softly. “I was very lonely before you came.”

  “Did your family ever come to visit you here?”

  “No,” he said quickly.

  Beauty could tell he didn’t want to talk about his family, so maybe this was a bad strategy. If he didn’t miss his own family, how could he ever understand her longing to see hers? She smiled at him, leaned toward him and kissed his lips. He seemed to relax a little with that, so she decided to try a different approach. “It’s just that you said it was my choice if I wanted to be your wife. Since it is my choice, and my father isn’t here to look after my interests, I thought I should find out more about the family I would be marrying into. It might be nice to know whether you all hate each other and never speak, or if you love each other but live too far to be with each other.”

  He was silent a minute, and Beauty wasn’t sure what to think. Then, he said, “You’re considering becoming my wife?”

  Beauty nodded, though she wasn’t sure that was true. She wasn’t sure what his distinction meant, since they were bound together — just as if they were husband and wife — so long as he held her to her promise to stay with him forever.

  “I don’t like to talk about the time before I lived here because I was different. Everything was different, and part of me wishes it to be like that again, but I know it can’t be,” he said. Beauty had no idea what he meant, but she nodded reassuringly so he would continue. “I used to have a mother, a father, an older brother and a baby sister. When I was 10, my mother died while giving birth to my sister, Odette. My father was a merchant who was away a lot, so my older brother Jacques taught me all he knew about life and women. Only all the stuff Jacques taught me was wrong. I love them all very much, especially little Odette. But I don’t see them anymore, because I am here. They do not come visit me because they do not know what has become of me. If we were married, if you loved me truly, it is possible we could go visit them. I think they would like you.”

  Beauty threaded her tiny fingers through Beasts massive ones, to hold his hand. “Do you miss them?”

  His hand squeezed hers tighter. “I don’t let myself miss them because that would make me sad. You shouldn’t let yourself miss your father either. It’s better to just enjoy what the two of us have, right here, right now.”

  It was not what she wanted to hear. It was, in fact, the exact opposite of what she had been hoping to hear. Beauty lay her head on Beast’s chest and tried not to sulk. If she told him she missed her father, he would not care. He would simply tell her to stop it. He truly was a beast, just like his name suggested. And then it hit her, that Beast couldn’t be his name. His siblings were named Jacques and Odette.

  “What is your name?” she asked.

  Beast tensed, and Beauty sat up. “Beast is my name,” he said.

  She shook her head. “It can’t be. A mother who names her children Jacques and Odette would never name a child Beast.”

  Beast pursed his lips and dragged his fingers through the mane of black fur on his head. “I guess if you are going to make a decision about being my wife, I should tell you the entire truth,” he said grimly. “Or as much of it as I can tell you.”

  Beast sat up, too. Beauty pulled the blanket up to cover herself more, not wanting him distracted by her nakedness. Beast took a deep breath and began. “I didn’t always look like this, Beauty,” he said. “I used to look like a normal man. I lived with my father, brother and sister. As I said, my father was away often. He traveled to buy goods and make deals. So, that left Jacques and me to our own devices. The nanny, Genevieve, tried to rein us in, but we didn’t listen. Genevieve mainly cared for Odette, and sometimes bedded Jacques.”

  Beauty’s mouth opened in mock shock.

  Beast grinned. “Don’t look so surprised. We were wealthy, and she was poor. She wanted more, hoped for more. There were many girls like that in the village where we lived. Jacques taught me how to trade on a girl’s desire for more. He taught me how to imply more but promise nothing, so they would be willing to have sex with me. I was not nice, Beauty.”

  Beauty sat still beside him, simply listening.

  “And then one day, I found a woman who I wanted, who was the crown jewel of attractiveness,” he said, getting a far off look in his eyes. He glanced down at Beauty, caught sight of a nipple sticking out from the blanket, and smiled. “Though, in retrospect, she paled in comparison to your Beauty.”

  Beauty laughed. “You don’t have to say that. I understand there were others.” Somehow Beauty had known he’d been with other women. That Ferus Lucunditas had not taught him all his skills. That there were others. And hearing about it now made sense.

  “I’m not just saying it,” Beast said. “It’s true. She doesn’t compare to you, but, at the time, I was smitten with her, and I wanted her. One evening, I tried to have my way with her; she didn’t want to and I …”

  His voice trailed off, and Beauty asked, “You took her by force?”

  Beast shook his head. “I would have. But, it turns out she was friends with a sorceress. The girl, Isabelle, said words I didn’t understand, and then the sorceress appeared. I couldn’t see the sorceress’ face; it was hidden by a hooded cloak. But, I could see her glowing red eyes beneath. She cursed me, saying I would look as beastly on the outside as I was on the inside. Then she sent me here, saying I must live in this enchanted manor. I am too frightening to be among the public, to be with my family. So, I stay here. It’s also safe here,” he said softly.

  Beauty’s eyebrows squished together in confusion. “How could you not be safe?” she asked, staring at his muscular body. His sheer size, coupled with his ferocious claws and fangs, would make him a match for anyone.

  “The sorceress knew who I was, that my name carried weight, that even as this hideous creature, some might still try to help me and get in my good favor. So, I was told that I could not be called by my name anymore. I must be known only as Beast. If anyone calls me by the name I was born with, then I shall die.”

  Beauty’s mouth popped open in shock. “Someone saying your name will kill you?”

  Beast shook his head. “Not saying it. I’m sure my father or brother have said it since I left, but actually looking at me, this horrific creature that I have become, and calling me by that other name. That will kill me.”

  Beauty leaned on him, resting her head on his chest. It was a horrific fate — to be afraid of seeing someone you know because that person calling you by your name would lead to your death. No wonder he had no problem staying away from his family. If he told them who he was, he would end up dead. He had been effectively banished, even though that wasn’t the sorceress’ exact punishment. She understood now why he was so lonely.

  Beauty kissed his furry chest. “I’m glad you’re not alone anymore, Beast.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad, too, Beauty. And,” he said, his voice sounding slightly choked up. “I sometimes wish you could call me by my name. I imagine how lovely it would sound rolling off your tongue, but I’m glad that you know me at all, by any name. Even if it is Beast.”

  Chapter 15

  Another two months passed and Beauty had tried to be happy with Beast. She understood that she was the only person whom he could be with, whom he could talk to. She tried not to resent being here. But it was becoming increasingly harder. She missed her father.

  She missed her home. She missed the visits from Giselle and the occasional journeys to town to peruse the shops,
even if she hadn’t bought anything. It had been nice to sometimes see the hustle and bustle.

  Beauty was sitting in the garden, looking at the flowers. She thought it amazing that flowers of pure gold could grow here. The fact that they were pure gold was actually only half the marvel. The fact that they remained in bloom always, even through the cold winter months that had just passed, was the other half. Yes, these roses were amazing, Beauty told herself. She was trying to remain caught up in the wonder of the house so that she could forget the sorrows worrying her own heart. Only, it didn’t seem to be working.

  Beast strolled up beside her, probably having come from cutting firewood. He seemed to like the physicality of the activity, as she supposed the house could have provided as much firewood as was necessary, if only he had asked.

  Though, maybe that’s why she enjoyed cooking a pastry in the kitchen sometimes. There were times when the fun was in doing the activity, not the end result.

  Beast put a hand on Beauty’s shoulder, and she turned and smiled at him. “Cut enough wood?” she asked.

  He nodded, then stared at her with a touch of melancholy in his expression. It made her uncomfortable, so she turned to look at the flowers again. “Beauty,” he said, so she turned back to him. “Are you happy here?”

  She breathed out. If only she knew. Part of her was, but part of her felt like some of her life was missing. Left behind with her trunk, and everything else she was forced to abandon on her hurried departure with Beast. She forced a smile and said, “Yes, I’m happy.”

  Beast stared at her, as if he wasn’t quite sure he believed her. His fur-covered hand reached out and grabbed hers, held it. She enjoyed the sensation. It was never something she would have imagined she’d enjoy, but the softness of his fur, the gentleness of his hand, made her feel warm and happy.

  “Beauty,” he said. “I know when you arrived here, I said marriage would be your choice. It is your choice, I mean. I just want to know if you would consent to be my wife.”