The Beast: A Wicked Villains Novel

by Katee Robert

  Wait—what?

  I’m still wrapping my head around the implications behind that statement when Beast answers. “Deal, though that’s open to negotiation on a case-by-case basis.” He turns his attention on me. “Condoms or no? Your choice, princess.”

  This conversation makes my thoughts churn and dip. He’s moving too fast. “I’m on birth control.” I have been since I was sixteen and my oldest sister dragged me in to get the prescription. I swallow past a suddenly dry throat. “I’m, uh … I’ve been tested recently.”

  “So have I.” Beast looks over. “Gaeton?”

  The big man crosses his arms over his chest. “Me, too.” His dark brows lower. “You don’t have to agree to this, Isabelle. The rest, yes, but not this.”

  I’m not agreeing to no condoms because I feel like I have to. I want to. And no matter how tangled the history between us, how much hurt we’ve heaped on each other over the length of our respective relationships, I trust these two men. I can’t help but trust them. “It’s what I want.”

  “So be it.” Beast nods. “Pick a safe word, Isabelle.”

  I blink. “Now?”

  Beast gives a slow smile that feels more like a threat than an expression of joy. “Did you think we’d agree to the muzzles without a token of your sincerity? Prove you mean what you say tonight and we come back to the territory at the end of the two weeks.”

  It’s happening. Good gods, it’s really happening. I stop clenching my hands and press my palms to my bare thighs. There’s no going back now. I have their agreement. All that’s left is to ensure I don’t break the terms.

  Ensure I pick one of them to keep forever at the end of this. That I give up any chance at freedom, and accept that no matter how these two weeks end, I lose. I can’t think about any of it too hard. Instead, I focus on the here and now. A safe word. Simple, really. I look down at my hands. “Candlestick.”

  “Good.” Beast straightens. “Let’s get started.”

  Chapter 3

  Gaeton

  I don’t want to do this.

  I slouch into the chair I recently vacated, still trying to come to terms that Isabelle Belmonte is here and bargaining her body and future away because of some bullshit power struggle her sisters are embarking on. Oh, the power struggles didn’t feel like bullshit when I was working under the Man in Black. They felt vital and world-ending. Now, I’m not so sure. What the hell is it all for? I don’t have answers, and I’m not sure anyone in this room does. Isabelle will say it’s for the continued safety of her family and the people under their protection. Beast? I have no fucking idea what goes on in that man’s head.

  Beast stalks around Isabelle like one of the great cats toying with its food. Building anticipation for the strike, enjoying the way she jumps a little every time he moves out of her line of sight.

  If I were a better man, I’d call this whole thing off and haul Isabelle out of the Underworld and right back to the safe embrace of her sisters. They might have sent her here to draw us back, but there’s no chance in hell that Cordelia and Sienna approved of us defiling their youngest sister. They’d barely tolerated us before and we treated Isabelle like a queen. I can fault Beast many things, but I can’t fault him that.

  “Gaeton.” The snap in his voice is a hook in my stomach, slamming me into the here and now.

  I resent the fuck out of it. He’s not my Dom. He’s not even my friend. He’s a man I used to hate and now am forced to tolerate from time to time. I glare. “Maybe you get off on playing with someone who’s just going through the motions, but that’s not my kink. I like consent, you bastard.”

  “Mmm.” His deep voice rumbles through the room, seeming to wrap around all of us. “Our little Isabelle wants to be punished. It’s why you came here, isn’t it, princess?”

  “Yes,” she breathes. She’s watching him like she’s never seen him before. There’s fear there, yes, but there’s no missing the way her lips part and her eyes go hazy with need. Just like there’s no missing her nipples pressed against the silk of her dress when he pulled her hair.

  Or maybe I’m just deluding myself in an attempt to justify taking from her exactly what I want. To fuck her and humiliate her and make her cry from the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain, her senses so overloaded that she can’t do anything but beg for what I will give her.

  Maybe.

  “Gaeton still needs convincing.” Beast shakes his head slowly. I can’t help watching him as he gathers her hair and lifts it from her neck. We might have scened together in the past, but it was always beneath another’s guidance, playing support in someone else’s fantasy. I’ve never seen Beast orchestrate his own scene. When he plays, he plays behind closed doors, and Hades’s submissives are too professional to gossip about it afterward.

  He twines her hair around his fist, gently but inexorably bending her back so that she’s depending on his strength to keep her off the floor. Her breath comes faster now, her tits shaking a little with each inhale and exhale. Realizing she’s not wearing a bra nearly has me groaning aloud. I clench my fists to keep still, to keep myself apart. I might have agreed to Beast’s bargain, but I don’t trust this. I don’t trust him.

  “Part your thighs, princess.” Beast’s command might rumble, but he sounds almost like he’s sitting down to dinner. Barely affected. If not for the way he devours her with his gaze, I might actually believe it.

  Isabelle moves slowly, obeying him in fits and starts until her thighs are splayed wide. Even as I tell myself not to look, my gaze is dragged down, down, down to where she’s revealed herself. “Fuck.”

  “Tell me what you see.”

  Again, I obey that snapped command even as I tell myself not to. “She’s not wearing panties.”

  “Dirty girl,” he murmurs. “You were planning on fucking us back into submission.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” He reaches down, quick as a snake, and pinches her nipple hard enough that I wince. Isabelle cries out, but she’s not arching away from him. She’s pressing her chest into his touch.

  Holy shit, he’s right. She does want this.

  “Told you.” His attention is all on me now. “Tell me what you see, Gaeton,” he repeats.

  Between one breath and the next, I decide to embrace this. Fuck it. I’m going to regret it, but the temptation of having Isabelle on my cock—in my bed—is too strong to turn away from. I lean back, intentionally adopting a relaxed sprawling pose. “It’s dim as fuck in here. I can’t see shit.”

  “Unacceptable.” He shakes his head. “Can’t have her hiding from us.”

  My mouth practically waters with anticipation. “She came in here wearing that little tease of a dress and flashing her pussy. Seems she doesn’t want to hide.”

  “I’m inclined to agree.” Beast leverages Isabelle to her feet. He keeps one hand in her hair, steering her a few steps toward me, close enough to touch. “Best send a message then.”

  At that, the hazy lust in her eyes clears. “Don’t you dare. This dress is brand new.”

  I hold her gaze and rip the fucking dress in half. Her body jerks with the movement, but she can only shift so far, because Beast holds her mostly immobile. I pull the straps down her arms and let the ruined fabric flutter to the ground. She stands there in heels and nothing else and, fuck, but Isabelle Belmonte does things for me.

  She’s built solid, the kind of body that fills out a person’s hands. The kind of body that can take a rough fucking, though in the past I would have fallen on a literal sword before I let myself off the leash enough to indulge in dirty play with this woman. She’s too good for that, too good for me.

  I know better than to scene angry. It’s a recipe for disaster. But I am fucking furious. I sit back and give myself a moment to study the way her light-brown skin has gone dusky with desire, her brown nipples pebbled and her body shaking. “When I finger your pussy, am I going to find you wet, Isabelle?”

  “I don’t—” She cries o
ut when Beast gives her hair another pull. “Yes.”

  As pissed as I am, as light as this is compared to some of the shit I’ve seen—some of the shit I’ve done—in the Underworld … “Isabelle, tell me your safe word.”

  “Candlestick,” she gasps.

  “You say that word, this stops.” I glance at Beast and find him watching me closely. “It doesn’t mean the bargain stops, so don’t be a fucking hero. On the other hand, if you lie to us, this whole thing is off. Not using your safe word when you need to is a fucking lie. Do you understand?”

  Her mouth moves, those prettily painted red lips gasping for whatever words it will take to ensure we don’t back out of this deal. She learned from the best, after all, and she’s heavily invested in seeing this through, no matter what it takes. Finally, she whimpers, “Yes, I understand. I won’t lie.” She shivers, goose bumps rising over her skin in a wave. “I’ll use my safe word if I need it.”

  It’s enough. It has to be enough. BDSM only works if there’s a measure of trust involved, and if I don’t trust her to use her safe word, then I have no business being in this room.

  I’d rather cut my cock off than walk out that door.

  Beast shifts her closer yet. “Now that we have that out of the way, It’s been a year since you had your hands on her, Gaeton. Since either of us did.”

  The reminder makes me thin my lips; that we were both arrogant enough to date her at the same time. That I put my heart in her hands, foolish enough to think I’d ever be enough for her, that if we just dated long enough, she’d choose me, love me enough not to need him. I know he’s riling me up. I know he’s playing us both. But I have a naked, quivering Isabelle nearly in my lap. I’m seeing this through to the end.

  I give a low laugh. “Better give her a thorough examination, then.” A humiliating play, examining her like she’s an animal instead of a person, but that’s the intention. Isabelle has enough pride to fuel an army. It’s part of what drew me to her in the first place, how fucking untouchable she was, standing there next to her father, perfect and above us all. I just want to carve off a little piece of that pride and get her off in the bargain.

  Beast nods and hauls her back, guiding her to resume her place on the floor. “Clasp your arms behind your back. Yes, like that. Now spread your legs. Wider, princess. You can’t expect him to see properly if you’re playing the shy innocent.”

  She obeys, each move jerky as if she’s fighting herself to do it. Torn between obedience and wanting to tell us where to shove our games.

  Obedience wins.

  This time.

  Chapter 4

  Isabelle

  I have never felt more exposed in my life. The position of my arms bows my back and thrusts my breasts forward. My thighs are spread so wide, cool air caresses my pussy. Through it all, Beast keeps his unyielding grip on my hair. He’s not hurting me, not really, but the promise of it makes me feel needy and hot.

  I have no control. I’ve handed it over willingly.

  Gaeton slides easily out of the chair and to his knees. He still towers over me, but I don’t think there’s a position in existence that won’t highlight our size difference. One look at Beast has the other man using his grip on my hair to bend me backward again. Helpless. I am so helpless, and Gaeton’s big palm sliding up the inside of my thigh makes me panic and slam my legs shut. A laughable rebellion, as if he can’t simply force my thighs open. The thought should scare me. Instead, it makes me damn near pant with desire.

  “Do you want to fight me, Isabelle?” He speaks roughly, but he doesn’t move his hand, not to retreat and not to slide farther up. Gaeton studies me as if he can’t begin to divine what I’m thinking. As if he wants to hear me say it. “Do you want me to shove your legs open and take what I want? Do you want Beast to hold you down while I force you to orgasm again and again?”

  No. No, of course I don’t want that.

  I open my mouth to say it, but stop short. I promised to tell the truth not five minutes ago. I can’t go back on my word over something as mundane as a dark desire, no matter how much it feels like he’s digging around beneath my skin and exposing me more thoroughly than simply putting my naked body on display.

  “Answer the question,” Beast breathes in my ear. He’s so still behind me, if not for his grip on my hair, I might believe he’s left the room.

  I don’t want to answer. I desperately don’t want to.

  But I promised.

  Anything for family.

  I lick my lips. “Yes. I want that.”

  Gaeton’s eyes go wide the barest amount before he assumes his lazy arrogant facade that I both love and hate in equal measures. He twists his hand between my legs to grip one thigh and then wedges his other hand in to grip the other. I fight him. I can’t help but fight him. It doesn’t matter that it’s a lost cause, that I have no hope of winning this struggle.

  He spreads my thighs inch by inch, a torturously slow display of strength. He could just yank them wide and take what he wants, but no. He’s humiliating me with my inability to stop him.

  I could stop him. A single word and it’s over.

  I don’t want him to stop. I want him to force me, to take and take and take until need washes me away entirely.

  It’s not until I’m spread wide again that I realize no one is holding my arms. I start to move them, but Beast catches my wrists and clasps them together in a single hand. “Ah ah.”

  “Let me go.” It’s too much and not enough and neither of them have really touched me yet. Not in any real way.

  “No,” Gaeton rumbles. He glances at Beast. “On the floor. Hold her down.”

  I struggle harder, but they move me like they would a doll, Beast shifting back and shoving me to the floor. I don’t miss the fact that no matter how rough he is, he keeps my head from bouncing on the hardwood. He grabs my wrists and pins them on either side of my head.

  I stare up into those blue, blue eyes, and I don’t see the man I thought I knew in them. There is no warmth for me, no tenderness. There is only a deep, dark hunger, like I’ve stumbled into a monster’s lair and now he’s only too happy to eat me right up.

  Shoving against his hold does nothing. Less than nothing. “Stop.”

  “You know how to stop us.” Gaeton gets rougher with my thighs, pressing them up and out, spreading me obscenely. “You’re awfully wet, Isabelle. You fight and claw and curse, but your pussy knows who owns it.” He spreads my folds with his thumbs. “I could shove my cock into you right now. You’re ready for it.”

  I’m gasping like I’ve run a marathon. “No.” Yes, yes, yes, fuck me, oh gods, please fuck me, I need you. I never thought I’d get another chance to be with either of them again. Now that it’s here, that it’s happening like this, in a way I never dared imagine …

  It’s beyond comprehension.

  Beast gives my wrists a squeeze. There’s no mercy for me on his face. “You don’t get either of our cocks until you earn them.” His gaze slashes to Gaeton. “Remind her who she belongs to.”

  Every part of me balks at the idea of belonging to anyone. Freedom is the only god I truly worship. It always has been. “You don’t own me.”

  “For the next two weeks we do.” Beast tightens his grip on my wrists, nearly grinding the bones together, but that feeling is nowhere near as intense as his gaze drilling into me. Like he’s dragging away every protection I’ve spent years building around myself. “Lick her pussy, Gaeton. Fuck her with your tongue the way I know you’re dying to.”

  Gaeton drags the flat of his tongue over me from top to bottom. I don’t know what I expected, but he doesn’t rush. He traces every part of my pussy as if reacquainting himself. As if claiming me. I open my mouth, but I can’t remember what role I’m supposed to play. Pleasure steals my words, steals my very thoughts, leaving only the animal behind. I try to arch up to bring him closer. “My clit. Suck on my clit.”

  Just like that, his mouth is gone and he delivers a st
inging slap to my clit. I scream more from surprise than pain. “What the hell?”

  “You don’t give the orders, Isabelle.” The words sound almost dragged from Gaeton. “You’d do well to remember that.”

  I’m still working on coming up with a retort when the door swings open. All three of us freeze as a man walks in. He’s beautiful in an old school Hollywood sort of way, all square jaw and fresh face, with the body of a Greek god. He also looks furious and ready to punch something. “You two know better than to play non-con with a newbie. It’s not sanctioned.”

  Neither Beast nor Gaeton move, which means I can’t move. This man I’ve never met is seeing every single part of me and I have absolutely no control over it. I wiggle as much as I’m able. “Let me up.”

  “No,” they answer together.

  Beast considers this intruder. “She’s fine.”

  The man lifts his chin though he seems to be fighting not to drop his gaze to me. “All the same, the rules are the rules.”

  I try to shift, but neither man is letting me up. Gaeton finally gives the stranger a lazy smile. “If you’re so concerned, Hercules, why don’t you sit in and watch? You think it goes too far, you call a stop to it.”

  The man—Hercules—freezes. “That’s not how it works.”

  If anything, Gaeton’s grin widens. “Call Hades. Get permission.”

  I don’t understand what’s going on here. I had my warning from Megaera earlier. I don’t get why this man is here, why he’s calling Hades to … get permission to watch whatever Gaeton and Beast have planned for me?

  Humiliation sears my skin. I want to curl into a ball and cover myself as best I’m able, and here I am, splayed out at their whim. We all watch Hercules use the phone on the wall to make a call. He doesn’t say much, but his conflicted expression tells me everything I need to know.