by Sable Sylvan
The lace was both like clothes and entirely unlike clothes, the thin lace drapery accentuating Rose’s natural curves. While some women needed shape wear to achieve a shape like Rose’s, utilizing push-up bras and fake butts, Rose was all natural, all woman, and even though she was a human, Beast could have sworn that a goddess was in his bed. “You look ravishing,” growled Beast.
“So ravish me,” said Rose, looking up at Beast, her eyes framed with layers of dark lashes. “Take me, Beast, as far as you can take me.”
Beast pulled Rose up and tore the bra, using one hand to pull apart the snaps on the bra strap, and he pulled the bra off over Rose’s head like a shirt. He kissed Rose while he slipped the garment off and he moved his hands down to her ample hips, bringing them up with his hands before he looped a finger under each side of the panties and ripped them, splitting the seams and grabbing at the fabric until it left Rose exposed for him.
“I want you, Beast,” moaned Rose, bucking up at her host. “Please...let me have it.”
Beast sat up. “You did say please,” he said.
Beast undid his belt and unzipped his pants, standing to take those off, his entire body revealed except for his crotch area, enclosed in the black silk of his boxers. His bulge had already stiffened and stood at attention. “You sure you can handle all this?” asked Beast, grabbing at his crotch, his shaft and balls in hand.
“I can try,” said Rose, reaching out towards Beast. He stood still as Rose lowered the silk boxers, exposing the present within. His shaft, throbbing and ready, sprung forth, and Rose caught it in her hands before it hit her in the eye. Rose had never seen a dick that big before, and of course, Beast had the balls to match. She looked at the shaft with wide eyes.
“Too big for you to handle?” asked Beast.
“No way,” said Rose, looking up at Beast as she pressed the tip of the shaft to her lips and kissed it. She swirled the tip in her mouth and then, bobbed down. She could only take a few inches in at a time because the shaft was so wide, but Beast was the one who stopped the blowjob.
“You’ve got to stop, or I’m going to frikkin’ explode inside your mouth,” said Beast with a moan, pulling Rose’s head away as he sat down on the bed. She sat up next to him and Beast kissed her deeply, caressing the back of her head and feeling her soft tresses as he lay her down, her head on the pillows, and he got between her legs, rubbing his knee against her sex, back and forth, begging her body to allow him to feel her release.
“Oh, Beast,” moaned Rose. Beast was better than any vibrator. His leg, strong and firm, was also broad, and so he was able to hit her clit each and every time, rocking back and forth, her juices spreading on his thigh, allowing him to press faster and faster against Rose without hurting her. “Beast, that feels...oh, Beast, it feels amazing.”
“I wanna bring you as close as I can to the edge without you coming,” said Beast. “Save that big O for me.” His shaft hit Rose in the stomach, teasing her belly button the way she wanted it against her entrance.
Beast ran his hands over Rose while he admired her face: Rose’s hair was spread out along his pillows like an angel’s halo, surrounding her face in dark tendrils that spread like the shadows of a tree in the winter against white snow. Rose’s eyes were closed, the dark lashes fluttering ever so often like those of a toy doll, and her mouth was open, just enough to let him see her tongue and some teeth, but with every thrust, it would open up a little wider and let out a small moan before closing again.
Rose’s curves moved with Beast’s thrusts the way that a tree’s leaves would rustle if a branch felt a strong wind, and Beast was definitely a force of nature. Pressing into Rose over and over, sending her to new heights, her lover was no beast, but an absolute storm, a tornado that was bent on whisking her around and around before taking her away entirely, away from the plain human world.
“Oh, Beast, keep going,” moaned Rose as Beast ran his fingertips over her naked breast, caressing her every ample curve and feeling the small surprises of her body, from the spots on the small of her back that sent her hips bucking to the way that the inside of her elbows could make her laugh if they were even brushed against by an errant body part. “Beast...I want you so much.”
“I want you too, baby,” said Beast, moving his other leg to the space between Rose’s legs and spreading her wider, before pulling a pillow down and lifting Rose up so she was propped up on a pillow. “I want you...but I want you to be prepared to take this shaft, so I need you to be absolutely soaking wet.”
Beast teased Rose’s entrance with the tip of his shaft. “You feel like you’re wet enough for me,” said Beast, pressing the tip in for a split second before pulling it back out, and leaving it resting on Rose’s entrance.
“Beast, I want it, I want your shaft,” said Rose. “Please...give it to me, I’m ready.”
“If you insist,” said Beast, and he slowly pushed the tip into her canal, pressing in, inch by inch, in one slow, smooth motion.
Rose hadn’t expected Beast’s shaft to feel so large in her pussy. She’d never had sex with a man as large as Beast before, but she hadn’t expected the big dick to feel that different. Of course, she’d wanted to have sex with Beast because she felt something: a real, raw, emotional connection she had never felt with anyone else before, an emotion she didn’t dare to name. She would have done Beast if he’d had a micro penis or three balls.
But Beast didn’t have a micro penis
No.
Beast had an all-American baseball bat of a cock, and two baseball sized testicles, and as he slid that slugger home, all bets were off. This may have started as an emotional coupling, but feeling the weight and girth of the long shaft inside her pussy was enough to turn Rose into a sex kitten.
“Oh, Beast,” moaned Rose, as she felt herself filled suddenly by Beast. She looked up at her lover who gave her a wink and a second later, she felt a twitch in her pussy, and then another. Then, he swirled the cock around, bucking his hips in circles while twitching his cock back and forth inside her, as if the head of his cock had a vibrator’s motor in it. No man she’d been with had ever been able to exercise that level of control over his shaft. “Harder, harder!”
Beast held back: he’d never found a woman who had wanted him to go harder. Rose was perfect: would going full werebear during sex scare her away? There was only one way to find out, but for now, Beast was determined to take it slow...but that didn’t mean he couldn’t kick things up a few notches. “Anything for you, baby,” said Beast, gripping Rose’s sides as he pushed into her hard and faster, gripping onto her with each thrust.
He leaned down and kissed Rose, first on the lips, and then, on the side of her face, and he traced a trail of kisses down her neck, past her soft shoulders to her large bosom, where he pressed his hands against her perfect curves, her nipples like small rosebuds, a beautiful shade of purplish-pink, a mauve color that was rare on women and in nature, its rarity making it all the more decadent.
“Faster,” begged Rose, gripping the sheets that were pooled around her like ripples in a pond of pure pleasure. “Faster, Beast, please...” She looked up at Beast and bit her lower lip seductively while touching Beast’s face with the back of her hand, gently feeling the five-o-clock shadow Beast had, from not shaving before dinner like he usually did, and from his werebear genetics’ natural hairy tendencies.
The man lost to the bear, who was telling the man to frikkin’ listen to the woman and do what she said. The bear took the wheel and slammed into Rose, hitting her harder and faster, pulling out and sliding in so fast that it was one fluid motion, each thrust in started before the dick was fully pulled out, each pull out starting right after the cock had reached its destination, the special spot inside Rose that drove her nuts every time that the curve of the helmet-shaped head of the cock pressed against it.
“Is this hard enough for you, princess?” asked Beast. He gripped into Rose’s hips, hard, pushing her body on and off his shaft as easily a
s if Rose were a rag doll. He pressed her hard against him and pushed her back onto the soft mattress, over and over, watching as her every curve pushed forward and away with every stroke.
“Yes, Beast, yes!” said Rose, bucking up into and against Beast’s hips, matching his motions but in reverse, so that every thrust in felt deeper for the both of them. She had never felt so wanted by any man before: sure, men had been attracted to her, but none had such a raw and primal desire as the bear shifter, who was thrusting into her with an animalistic desire.
To Beast, it was more than mere desire: it was a need, a biological imperative to fill Rose up, over and over, and each thrust of his hard shaft got him closer to that breaking point.
It was Rose who was pushed over the cliff and into a sea of pleasure first. Beast’s hard, fast thrusts were just what she needed and she felt her petals flutter around Beast as she gripped his back with her nails, hard.
Beast couldn’t hold on for long: in one hard slide home, he exploded inside her within seconds of feeling Rose come around his wanting shaft. A heat in his chest had been growing, and as his balls let slip the cum of war,
As Rose and Beast came at the same time, the mark on Beast’s chest glowed bright: at first, the red edges of the flowers glowed, and then, the gold, the red and yellow lights mixing and casting the pair in a pumpkin orange light. Beast slid out as the mark’s glow faded away.
“Uh...what the frik was that?” asked Rose, pushing her hair back.
“Just one of the roses glowing bright,” said Beast. “Or the moon.”
“No, your chest was glowing, I know what I saw. Don’t give me bullshiz, beast,” ordered Rose. “What was that?”
“It’s...it’s not important,” said Beast. “Trust me.”
“Can I?” asked Rose. “Because it seems like every time you and I get together, I get one secret answered but learn two more.”
“You don’t have to worry, Rose,” said Beast, pulling Rose close to him. Rose’s curvy body was the one thing he’d dreamed of holding each night: not making love to, not mating with, but holding against his own, protecting her even in her sleep.
All thoughts of worry vanished as Beast pulled Rose in. While Rose knew that Beast wanted her body, she never would have guessed he was a cuddler, and as Beast turned so that he was holding her, his little dipper against his big bear body, she found herself having the best sleep of her life. Beast flipped the switch by his bed and turned the lights down so that the room was lit only by the cool silver light of the moon. The only sound was that of the wind rustling the Montana forest trees, branches swaying back and forth as gently as a mother holding her baby: the beast whose howls had followed her into dreamland was nowhere to be found.
Chapter Eight
The next morning, Rose woke up later than usual: Beast was nowhere to be found, but Hannah assured her he was dealing with business at the mill, where the workday started early. Rose had a hearty breakfast while Hannah went over the arrangements: a limo would drop Rose off back at her house and pick her back up when it was time to come back to Beast’s estate.
Rose packed a bag of clothes. She packed up the clothes she’d come to the mansion as well as a few dresses, some blouses, and some nice jeans and a pair of slacks, as well as a pair of flats. She wore a dress and sandals for the day, and when she received a message from Hannah that her ride was ready, she headed out to the front door and got into a limo, by herself.
Leaving the mansion was weird: while Rose had hated the mansion when she first arrived, hating what it symbolized, as soon as she’d seen her bedroom, it all changed and she had fallen more and more in love with the house every day...and every week, she’d fallen harder and faster for the master of the mansion, a man who she still had to refer to as Beast. Memories of the night before lingered, and it was hard to tell where the night ended and where her dreams of the love making began.
Rose listened to music on the smartphone for the first part of the ride. As she got closer to civilization, the phone got a signal. Rose resisted the urge to call her house. She wanted the visit to be a surprise. Rose took a nap as the ride went on, tired from her night with Beast.
The driver stopped in front of Rose’s house and lowered the divider. “Miss? We’re here,” he said.
He reached back and patted Rose’s arm, which roused her from her light sleep. “What? Oh, thank you,” said Rose.
“I’ll be here to pick you up next Friday,” said the driver.
“Thank you so much,” said Rose.
Rose got out of the limo. She was right back where this had all started, back at her house, with her family, but it no longer felt like her home. Being away from her house for a month made going back seem weird, like she was there on a visit. The lights were on. Rose walked up to the door and knocked. Her father answered the door.
“Rose? Is that you?” asked her father.
“Yes, Dad, it’s me,” said Rose, hugging her father tightly. Her father put his arms around his daughter and squeezed her tight.
“We were so worried about you,” said Rose’s father, pulling away from the hug.
Rose looked over her father. He looked different. His clothes were new, and given he had few nice clothes, she would’ve recognized the polo and khakis if they’d been in his closet before she left. “Dad, what’s the special occasion?” asked Rose, looking at the new clothes her father was wearing. “Why are you dressed up like that? I was hoping my visit was a surprise.”
“Well, it is a surprise, honey,” said Rose’s father.
Rose walked into the house: the furniture in the house that had been old and wobbly had been replaced. There was a new couch in the living room, and a bigger TV. She made her way to the kitchen: there were brand new appliances, swatches for new flooring. “Dad, where did you get the money to do all of this?” asked Rose.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you over the phone, I signed a contract,” said Rose’s father. “I can’t tell you until the month is up.”
“Who gave you the money?” asked Rose.
“The man...who took you away that night,” admitted Rose’s father. “He’s...taken care of the family.”
“Why?” asked Rose, her heart sinking. She hadn’t expected that by coming home, she’d uncover even more secrets. Right when she thought she’d started to figure Beast out, she realized she barely knew him. “The deal was that I’d live at his house for a month, he’d give you your freedom, that was that.”
“I’ve said too much, Rose,” said Jake. “I can’t tell you more.”
“Where are Eliza and Dory?” asked Rose, realizing the house had been quiet, a little too quiet. “Are they okay?”
“They’re fine, we’re all fine, Rose, and I can tell you why, after the month is up,” said Jake. “Your sisters should be getting home soon, they had piano lessons today.”
“Piano lessons?” asked Rose. “There’s no frikkin’ way that those two are taking piano lessons. We don’t own a piano.”
“We do now,” said Jake. “They have one in their room to practice on.”
Rose wandered around the house on her own, looking at the new things that filled her childhood home. The twins had a piano in their room, as well as new sheets, rather than the hand me downs they’d gotten from relatives. The only room that looked exactly the same was her own room.
She placed her duffel bag on the bed and sat in her room, looking around at the things that had once felt so familiar, but now felt so strange. She found herself missing the pink wallpaper and the white fluffy rug that she had in her room at the mansion. Her bedroom here was filled with storage boxes, the mattress squeaky, the box spring saggy, and the sheets rough, patched with whatever fabric they’d had on hand. The floor was carpeted, but patchy, and the toys she’d kept in her room from her childhood now felt like childish things she wanted to put away, rather than mementos of youth.
“Rose?” said a voice. Rose looked up: her sister Dory was at the door.
�
��Hey you,” said Rose, getting up from the bed to give her sister a big hug and a kiss on the top of her head. “How’re you doing, bug?”
“I’m too old for that nickname, Rose,” said Dory, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes after pulling away from the hug. Rose gave Dory the once over: her sister was in fancy designer clothes from head to toe. While Jake had saved up to buy her sisters small leather goods or other trinkets like designer iPhone cases, he’d never bought them designer clothes.
“Dory, where did you get those clothes?” asked Rose cautiously.
“Dad got them for me,” said Dory. “Where did you get your clothes? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything so fancy.”
Rose looked down: she was still wearing the same clothes she’d worn when she’d left the mansion, a white sundress and silver sandals. “I guess a lot’s changed this month,” said Rose. “You can tell me all about it over dinner.”
Rose made her way downstairs with Dory and helped set the table: it was leftover night, but the leftovers were better than the ones they’d usually had. While Rose had been the primary cook in the house, Jake had taken the role in her absence, and tonight’s dinner of reheated spaghetti and meatballs with a side salad was more hearty than most of the family’s meals.
Rose didn’t bring up the topic of the money in front of her younger sisters again, although she knew that she’d need an answer from her father about how he’d come into all this money. She had her suspicions: her father’s gambling past came to mind, and that was not a topic she wanted to breach in front of her sisters. Worse, what if he’d sold the secret of the roses to a competitor of the company he’d worked for? Rose was worried and didn’t eat much, nor did she partake in the ice cream for dessert.
After dinner, Rose insisted on cleaning up although her father and her sisters protested. It was the one thing that felt normal to Rose: the rest of the house had changed and although the dishes were new, not the plastic dishes they’d used for years, dishes which had taken a beaten and clouded over the ages, but new ceramic dishes. Although the sink was brand new, a stainless steel sink rather than the ceramic sink they’d since she was a kid, just having a sponge and dishwashing liquid and running water made Rose feel at home again.