Taming the Beast

She felt Gastard step toward her, felt the heat of him as he stood so close behind her. She was already ready, the mere thought of what they were going to do tonight making her ache with the slow burn of anticipation since the moment she’d had the thought.

All it would take now was the slightest push, the lightest touch, and she’d drop to all fours and howl at the moon, offering all that she was to him, now and for always.

When he leaned forward, simultaneously wrapping a huge arm around her and biting her neck at the same time, she knew she was done for. She threw her head back, offering him more of her neck, submitting completely.

He bit her there again, and leaned forward, folding her in half with him. With a quick rock of his hips it was done. He slid home, his beastly cock meeting no resistance at all, as she’d been ready for this for a long time.

She howled as he filled her, and whimpered as he pulled back, leaving her empty. He rocked into her again, and she sang. She tilted her hips back to accept him, to welcome him, and it was on. Grunting and thrusting they couldn’t get enough of each other. His claws dug into her fur for purchase and she rotated them, grabbing onto a tree trunk for leverage, leaving claw marks that would be seen for years.

She pushed her hips backward, rocking with him, grinding against him, until she noticed how warm the breeze was against her heated flesh.

She was flesh!

She was flesh, not fur, and she was still outside!

It had worked, the curse was lifted!

She looked backward, over her shoulder, and saw Gastard, in all of his beautifully sculpted, naked, human glory, thrusting deep, pounding her hard.

“Yes! Oh, fuck yes!” she called out into the night, as she gave herself up to him yet again.

His hand slid around, his fingers finding her clit. No scratching claws found her, just the thick pads of his strong fingers, strumming her in all the ways that she loved. He played her, sliding along, teasing music from her, bringing her closer to her own release even as he stroked toward his own.

His other hand found her breast, squeezing one as the other swayed with each hard, purposeful stroke. He teased her nipple, pinching then soothing, and the twinge of pain took her higher.

She bent over a little more, sliding a hand between her legs, over his hand as he worked her faster and faster, til she found what she was reaching for.

His balls filled her palm, and she rolled and gently tugged them just the way he liked until she heard his gasped grunts fill her ear.

“Oh, yeah. Just like that, Belle. I feel your pussy getting even tighter around my cock. I feel you squeezing me just right. You’re going to come for me, aren’t you? That’s right, baby. I know what you like. Take my cock, take it all.”

Belle moaned Gastard’s name into the wind, arching her back to take him deeper. She felt his grip change, his strokes picking up speed, staying deep but rocking shallow. His fingers circled and pressed, sliding slick as his cock filled and stretched her until he pinched a nipple and bit the tender spot on her neck, sending her over the orgasmic edge.

Her pussy squeezed and throbbed around him, driving him crazy and pushing him closer. He let go of her tit and clit, instead gripping her hips tight and pulling her to him even as he thrust into her, pushing her away. The push-pull drove his cock deeper, his sensitive, round head bottoming out as the walls of her pussy gripped him, squeezing him in waves, until he gave in and screamed out.

His guttural yell told her everything. He was there, he’d caught up with her on the other side of paradise and they saw stars together as he filled her with every throbbing, gushing burst of his warm seed that she could possibly take.

She was his and he was hers, and that’s how they would always be. Fucking and sucking, indoors and out, christening every inch of the manor and its grounds over the next many years, knowing that it would’ve pissed her father off to no end.

Why?

They didn’t know, as chasing tale was old as time, their orgasmic song was old as rhyme, and the physical beauty of their love had tamed their beasts. Curses broken, beasts dispatched, the pair went on to live a very happily ever after.

Part X

The Rogue and the Rose

Amanda Jones

Prologue

Six years ago:

The first moment I met Scott I became a babbling fool, completely overwhelmed by his model-handsome face and his charm. It wasn’t until a few months later that I discovered charm was his manipulation tactic, and he handed it out like flowers to any woman he thought could do something for him. I was nineteen

years old and in my first year of college when I saw Scott at my sister’s high school softball game. My sister Mae was a senior, a starting pitcher, popular and smart. It didn’t occur to me at the time to wonder why a thirty-two-year-old man would be attending a high school softball game when he didn’t have a family or friend playing.

People surrounded him when I saw him the first time, mothers of other players and other girls still in high school. I zeroed in on Scott from where I was sitting at the top of the bleachers. He stood near the concession stand about twenty feet away, and I thought he was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He wasn’t dressed like the boys I knew. He was wearing dress slacks and a pressed dress shirt, tucked in with a leather belt. He had on a watch that looked understated and elegant, and was sure to be expensive. His dark blonde hair was stylishly cut, and his shoes looked like something out of GQ.