Beauty and the Beast (an erotic re-imagining) Read online

  “Thank you, Beauty,” he whispered, his words lost in the blowing wind.

  He wanted to go inside and reward her for her loyalty, but after a long night of fruitless hunting, he was so exhausted that he might have to fall asleep and meet her as Frederick in his dreams, instead.

  The animals in the forest, like Belle, were less afraid of him now, which should have afforded him even more chances to kill. But instead, he found himself watching their beauty from afar, and he couldn’t bring himself to hurt the creatures—not anymore. He was a changed man.

  Maybe this was what the enchantress had meant, all along. That a woman could change him from a beast back into a man. He certainly felt more human than he ever had in the past ten years since the curse struck him.

  But it wasn’t just a woman that he needed. He needed true love.

  For the first time since he found Belle, love seemed like a very real possibility. He still had a chance.

  They had a chance.

  ***

  Later that evening, Belle awoke to the sound of her bedchamber door creaking open. She sat up, holding the white linen bedding up against her breasts, blinking until her eyes adjusted to the dark.

  “Frederick?”

  “Good evening, Beauty,” Frederick said softly. “May I sit with you?”

  Belle smiled and patted the space on the bed next to her. She had no guilt or shame about inviting Frederick into her bed, after all, he was her dream-man, her fantasy, and she fully intended to make good use of him.

  Even if he was possibly a little bit real.

  “Fairies, some candlelight, please?” she requested.

  Candles flickered to life throughout her bedroom, illuminating Frederick’s handsome face as he sat beside her.

  “I’m glad you stayed,” Frederick said. “I would have missed you terribly if you’d left.”

  “Now I know I must be dreaming,” she said, uncertain if she felt relief or disappointment. “Because no one knows what happened earlier other than the fairies. And me.”

  Frederick grinned and cupped her face in his warm, large hands, pulling her in closer for a kiss. She opened her mouth to him, accepting his tongue, and, in a moment of reckless abandon, pulled him on top of her body.

  “I thought you said we couldn’t make love,” Frederick reminded her. “The Beast would know.”

  “I belong to the Beast,” she agreed. “Look, he marked me.” She proudly displayed her bite mark, spreading her legs lewdly beneath him.

  “The Beast deserves to have you first, before I do. Are you ready for that? To make love with the Beast?”

  Belle swallowed hard. The thought both terrified and aroused her. “Yes. I am.”

  Frederick dropped his hand between her legs, finding her wetness there. Carefully, slowly, he penetrated her with his finger. First one, then two. Then three.

  Belle moaned as she stretched, but she didn’t try to stop him. She knew what Frederick was doing.

  He was preparing her for the Beast.

  “Aren’t you jealous, Frederick?” she whispered, moaning as he circled his fingers, lubricating her with her own juices. “Don’t you care for me at all?”

  “I can’t explain, Beauty,” he said. “But I’ve said from the start that you must love the Beast.”

  “But what if I love you?”

  She covered her mouth with her hand, shocked by the words that had fallen out of her, seemingly of their own volition.

  “Is your heart big enough to love me, and the Beast?” he asked.

  The prospect had never occurred to her. Frederick and the Beast were like two sides of the same coin, one refined and handsome, the other brutal and beastly. And yet she desired them both.

  She didn’t know how to respond, so she did something she’d never done before—she reached toward his erection, and dropped her head to his lap, wanting to kiss him there the way he had done to her.

  Frederick grinned. “What are you doing?”

  “I honestly have no idea,” she said, opening his trousers.

  His cock was thick, heavy in her hand, and glistened at the end with a drop of arousal. Belle lowered her head and licked the drop off, savoring the taste of salt and man. Had she ever been able to taste something in a dream before?

  “Is this all right?” she asked.

  “Open your mouth,” he said. “Take it all in, lick with your tongue, and try to keep your teeth at bay.”

  Belle hesitated for only a moment before wrapping her lips around his cock. The heat of it, the taste of his flesh in her mouth, was so fantastical and new that she murmured in delight, causing Frederick to moan with pleasure, and tangle his hands in her long hair.

  She continued tonguing his cock, swallowing around it, and looked up at him to see if he was enjoying himself. Frederick was so beautiful, with that thick, brown hair, and deep green eyes, eyes that were half-closed now with pleasure.

  “I need to know, Beauty,” he said, his voice rough with desire, “can you love the Beast? Can you love us both?”

  It made no sense. What man would want her to love another man? But the truth was, when she had her chance for freedom, it wasn’t just one man she thought of that kept her from leaving. It was both the man, and the Beast. So yes. Yes, she could, perhaps, someday…love them both.

  “I think so,” she said, sitting up.

  Frederick groaned and took hold of her hand, guiding it over his cock. With his hand over hers, he rubbed himself, faster and faster, until he cried out, his face in a grimace that looked almost

  (beastly)

  primal, and come flowed out of his cock, pouring hotly over her hand.

  “Thank you, Belle,” Frederick said.

  He rose and washed with water from the basin, and she watched intently, enjoying the view. His long, lean muscled body, the way his strong jawline gleamed in the candlelight…

  “You’re so handsome, Frederick.”

  For some reason, he stiffened. “It shouldn’t matter what I look like. I want you to love me for who I am, inside.”

  “You’re a fantasy. I’ve made you up in my dreams.”

  “I may be in your dreams, Belle, but I am as real as my diary, as real as my portrait.”

  She gasped. “How did you know I found your old diary?”

  “You were looking for me in the castle. It’s all right, I suppose it’s one way you could get to know me. Although I hope you understand I’ve grown as a person a lot in the last ten years, since I kept that diary.”

  Ten years. The same ten years that he’d been missing from the castle. The same ten years ago that the Beast told her he’d changed.

  But nothing made sense, and none of her past experiences ever showed her a way that two men could be one, and so she dismissed the niggling thoughts that threatened to break her very sanity.

  Frederick was for her dreams, the Beast was for her reality, as strange as it might be.

  “You need to wake up, now, darling,” Frederick said.

  “I don’t want to wake up.”

  He walked back over to the bed and, in an instant, had her over his knee.

  “Wh-what?” she cried, although secretly, she’d been wanting Frederick to make good on his promise to spank her.

  His hand came down hard on her bare buttocks, and she gasped at the sudden sting of his palm.

  “Are you ready for the Beast?” he asked, spanking her again.

  She couldn’t focus on what Frederick was saying, because all of her thoughts flew from her mind as he spanked her, warming her bottom, and he kept saying…

  “You need to wake up, Beauty. It’s time to be with the Beast.”

  9: Submitting to the Beast

  Belle woke up with her face against her pillow, her bottom burning, her inner thighs wet with arousal. She felt tender, inside, where Frederick had stretched her with his long fingers.

  But Frederick was gone, and the dream was over.

  She rolled over and pulled the covers up to her
chin, staring at the flickering candles, half-melted in their holders. At least an hour or two must have passed for the candles to have burned down like that.

  Had that experience with Frederick really happened? Or was it, once again, but a dream?

  There was a hard knock on her bedroom door.

  “Frederick?” she whispered.

  “Beauty,” the Beast’s voice answered. “It is I. The Beast. May I enter?”

  Belle got out of bed and wrapped herself in her dressing robe, then opened the door. The Beast stood in her doorframe, his enormous body taking up the entire space, blocking any escape to the corridor outside her suite.

  Why think of escape?

  Because she was frightened. As much as she had imagined this moment, and even after talking about it with Frederick, she was still afraid of losing her virginity.

  She was, once again, afraid of the Beast.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked.

  Belle shook her head mutely, but gestured that he should enter. He did, standing just inside the door, and it shut behind him on its own.

  “Are you frightened, Beauty?” the Beast asked, and she ran into his arms, pressing her face against his muscled abdomen, for he was so, so tall.

  He wrapped his arms around, comforting her, and she finally found the strength to tilt her chin up to look at his fearsome face.

  “Yes, Beast. I am frightened. But I want to give myself to you, I do…” she smiled, even as a single errant tear rolled down her cheek.

  He touched her cheek gently, wiping the tear away. “I’ve waited until it seemed you were ready for this. Ready for me.”

  “I know,” she said. “Thank you for that. I know you could have…I mean, you had me captive, in your dungeon. You didn’t have to be so gentle with me, and I appreciate that you are.”

  “Beauty,” he said, his voice low, “you have come to mean everything to me. I wouldn’t do anything to harm you, not for the world.”

  “Can I…can I see it? See…you?” Heat warmed her cheeks, and she knew she was blushing. Could he tell, in the low light, how nervous she was?

  She worried that he would laugh at her request—or worse, not know what she meant, but the Beast nodded, strands of hair from his mane falling in front of his intense green eyes. He stepped back slightly, and she missed the contact with his body immediately.

  Belle turned her head, in an attempt to provide him some sort of privacy as he reached for his trousers, but it seemed that he was as unsure of himself now as she was.

  After her experience with Frederick’s manhood, the warm, hard, veined cock that had so recently been in her mouth (or not, if it had been a dream…had it been a dream?), Belle wasn’t sure what to expect.

  The Beast lowered his trousers and stepped out of them, and she focused on the floor, on the wolves’ paws he called feet, at the muscled calves and thighs. She brought her gaze higher, and took in a shaky breath.

  His cock swung low between his legs, almost as thick as her forearm, it seemed. As she looked upon him, he became erect, his cock stiffening and growing even as she watched. It was a beautiful, terrible thing to behold, and she touched it with her fingertips to see if it differed too much from Frederick’s cock.

  It felt the same, warm, velvety skin, and the thick veins that ran across the Beast’s cock stood out in stark relief. Her hands trembled as she touched him there, as his cock became like a steel rod encased in flesh.

  “Beast,” she whispered. “This won’t fit inside of me. You’ll tear me in two.”

  To her dismay, a sob escaped her throat. All this waiting, all this time, and she’d never even get to experience having the Beast make love to her.

  “No, Beauty,” he said, “I won’t tear you. We’ll go slowly and carefully, and you’ll be fine. A woman’s channel can stretch to accommodate even a baby, and while I know I am well-endowed, we’re nowhere near that.”

  She looked up at him in trepidation. “Do you really think I’ll be okay?”

  “I wouldn’t do it if I thought differently.”

  The Beast picked her up, holding her so that her lips met his, and she melted into his strong embrace. As they kissed, he captured her clitoris with his fingers, and rubbed slow, lazy circles on her tender bud until she began to relax and enjoy herself.

  Soon his fingers were inside her, so much bigger than Frederick’s fingers had been, but he did exactly the same thing her dream-lover had done, carefully stretching her, rubbing the inside of her channel, lubricating every bit of her with her own arousal.

  Belle panted with desire; he kept hitting that spot deep within her that had made her come so hard before, and she felt another climax building. She waited for him to stop, to pull away before she came too soon, but he kept going, holding her thighs apart, pushing her back onto the bed, and pleasuring her until she melted, wave after wave of her orgasm flowing through her body.

  The Beast ran his hand over her sensitive cunny, and covered his cock with her come, until it glistened in the candlelight. A few candles had burnt out completely, she half-noted, he had spent so much time preparing her body for him.

  “You won’t…crush me, will you?” she asked.

  The Beast had to weigh over three hundred pounds, maybe four hundred, and she had no experience other than the feel of Frederick’s strong body lying on hers.

  “Never. It will be easier if I can stand,” he said. “Come here, Beauty.”

  He positioned her body, bent over the side of the bed, and gently pulled her robe off of her, letting it drop to the floor. Naked, she trembled, waiting for him. Her nipples pebbled against the bedsheets, her fingers grabbed hold of the linen and tightened in anticipation.

  The Beast stood behind her, and pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. None of his weight was on her, and she exhaled shakily.

  “You are everything to me, Beauty,” he whispered. “Is this all right? You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, Beast,” she said. “I want this. I need this.”

  He pressed his cock to the entrance of her cunny, and she moaned, still fearful of how it would feel. Slowly, carefully, he entered her, stretching her wet heat, filling her completely. His cock rubbed against every nerve ending in her body, mingling pain and pleasure in almost the same way as his lovebite had done when he’d marked her.

  She cried out as he pulled back and slowly thrust inside of her once more.

  “It’s all right, little Beauty, everything’s all right,” he whispered, his voice low and rumbling.

  Her whole world narrowed until nothing existed except for the Beast inside of her, stroking her, touching every part of her from the inside out.

  It seemed to go on forever, and yet she didn’t want it to end. Her pleasure bloomed and rose on crest after crest of waves of sensation, and she bit the pillow, stifling her own cries of passion.

  But the Beast ripped the pillow from her mouth. “I want to hear you, Beauty. I want to hear you scream with pleasure.”

  He pulled out of her, leaving her empty, wanting. She cried out inarticulately in protest—

  Don’t stop!

  —but he lifted her from the bed like she weighed nothing at all, and held her in his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist as if of their own accord; she clung to him, this mountain of a man.

  The Beast grabbed her thighs and raised her up and onto his cock, impaling her with delicious passion. Belle threw her head back in ecstasy and held on for dear life.

  “Yes, Beast, yes,” she moaned, unable—unwilling—to contain herself any longer.

  She grabbed his bulging muscles, wanting to feel all of him, to experience everything about him. She tore at his hair, pulling his face toward hers for a long, deep kiss. Then, in a moment of primal abandon, she bit his mouth, as if daring him to bite her back.

  With a low growl, he threw her onto the bed on her back. Belle cried out in surprise—he was so tall, the drop to the bed was five or six feet at least. He loomed over her, his beauti
ful green eyes dark with lust and desire.

  “I’m sorry, Sir—” she whispered, even though, if given half a chance, she’d do it again.

  “Never be sorry, Beauty.”

  He braced himself above her, his body inches from hers, supported by his own arms and legs.

  “I won’t crush you,” he rumbled. “I won’t hurt you.”

  “I trust you, Sir,” she said.

  She did, with all her heart.

  The sight of him hovering above her was terrifying indeed, but at the same time aroused her deepest passion. She moaned with pleasure as he thrust inside her once more.

  Belle wrapped her arms around him, the heat of his breath warm on her bare neck. His thrusts shook her to the core, awakening her entire body.

  She gave him the screams he wanted, her passion mounting even as she felt she would be torn apart by his power. Belle knew she was safe with him, and her fear only intensified her arousal.

  The Beast sped up his pace, rocking within her, moving faster, faster, until he came with a loud roar that shook the chandelier and made the lights flicker. Belle whimpered and nearly scrambled to get out from under him, her natural instinct overtaking her, despite desperately wanting

  (needing)

  more. And more. She cried out, her desire echoing through the bedchamber.

  He held her hips, pinning her to the bed, wrenching another delicious orgasm from deep within her.

  It’s like when Frederick came, how he seemed more animal than man. In that moment of pure ecstasy, he had been reduced to his most primal instincts.

  The Beast pulled out, hot come splattering on her breasts. She lay still, not daring to move, breathing hard.

  “Stay still, Beauty. Let me tend to you.”

  She closed her eyes, nearly drifting off into sleep, when she felt the warm, wet towel wiping her skin, cleaning her off. The Beast placed tender kisses on her body as he dropped to his knees at the bedside and washed between her legs. His face was so close to her there, inspecting her.

  “You’re perfect,” he said. “You didn’t even bleed.”

  “I fell off a horse when I was a child,” she said, “and bled then. So my maidenhood was already torn. But I swear I was a virgin for you, Sir.”