Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I do not know. I only know that I want it, though I could not say what it is exactly I am so feverish for. My mind offers many possibilities, and each one is as forbidden as the last. They are things no innocent woman would dream of asking for or having, and certainly not from her captor, from the beast.
“Please,” I whisper, my voice heady as my plea slips from between my lips.
I do not know what it is that I am asking the beast for. I can only hope he gives it to me.
THE PRINCE AND THE BEAST
Elle’s body pressed so close to mine is fucking heaven. I’ve never felt such a stir of desire and pull. Not a damn thing in this world has brought this feeling over me. She is the only thing I can smell, feel, think about. Fuck! What does this woman do to me? Is it her? Or is it what I’ve become? My obsession with every small breath of hers is undeniable.
I breathe in the scent of her hair and her skin and the warm heat of her. She’s already aroused, her lithe body arching tentatively against mine, and I’m drawn to the scent of her sweetness, too. More than anything else.
I’m almost overwhelmed by the delicacy of her scent and how quickly it has changed in my home. I distinctly remember the scent of her skin outside as I carried her through the enchanted forest. Elle was not as warm in her bed as she could have been, and I wrapped her in my cloak to protect her from the chill of the night, but it seeped in next to her skin.
The night air had been fresh and had the ever-present scent of the magic behind the enchantments. Elle’s face and hair had been slightly cold when I arrived back home with her, but she warmed quickly when I brought her to the bedroom. Her scent has warmed and grown more complex from only one night with me. The beast is far too aware, and I urge him away. The only thing more surprising than my obsession with her is how the beast listens now that we both have her in our grasps.
Yet the trappings of her old life linger under that new scent. There is the bakery where she worked, handling sweet things and breathing in air that was warmed with the aroma of rising dough. There is the faint tinge of her fear, not of me but of the man that her father might have given her to.
The beast stirs but does not growl and leap to the forefront, an odd reaction when the memory of her father’s words is so vivid in my mind.
These are the beast’s senses, not mine, although I do not remember now what it was like to be without his enhancements to my human senses. So many times over the years we have battled for dominance, the beast taking control and making it clear I could not defeat him, or me shoving him aside through only the greatest effort. There have been times when I wished to be free of him, unraveling our separate ways of being so that I knew where he ended and I began.
If Elle didn’t smell so sweet, I might be angry at the closeness of the two of us. It wasn’t always this way, for it can’t have been, but with my nose pressed to her hair I am accepting of the beast’s embedded nature within me. I still know his presence as a curse, but I cannot help enjoying the benefit. There is so much purity, yet intense longing, in Elle’s scent. The sweet-salt scent of her arousal blends in equal measure with yesterday’s breeze in her hair and the bed sheets we slept in and even the way I put my mouth and fingers to her skin and made her come.
I breathe her in again.
Then again.
I realize I’m cautious because I expect the beast to lunge forward, seizing control and having his way with her. He abandons himself to his urges without understanding the human world. He only wants what he wants. I take such deep breaths because the opportunity is rare when I am in full control and not at the mercy of the beast’s animal desires. I want to remember this about her every time I am the one at the forefront. Every time I have control over my hands and my body.
Not all of my body, however. There are some things I can’t control even when the beast is sated.
And the beast is sated inside me. I inhale Elle again, almost trying to tempt him, but he is restful. He does not try to push me away so he can follow his urges. This is a shocking proposition given how wild he was to claim her and have her. He could barely be controlled in those moments when his blood ran hot and the world turned red. He was considerably more animal when Elle’s father spoke of giving her away to another man.