Читать книгу The Heart of The Beast: A romantic adult fairytale revealing how the power of love can overcome the hardest heart - Susan Kohler - Страница 10

Chapter Three

The Beast entered his bedchamber and slammed the door. Suddenly the large room appeared to grow smaller to Beauty. The very walls seemed to be closing in on her and she felt trapped. Her breath caught in her throat and she struggled to breathe as the very air surrounding her seemed to suddenly turn thick and sluggish. In spite of the wine, she began to tremble, shaking uncontrollably. The Beast appeared to ignore her completely, not looking her way or speaking as his hands went to the fastenings of his clothes. His very silence further unnerved her.

Lying there on the bed, looking at him as he quickly shed his clothes, she was both terrified and mesmerized by his strong, muscular body and his physical perfection. In spite of what she’d heard both from him and about him, the real shock though came when he removed his tunic and saw the multitude of scars covering his perfect form. As he briefly turned his back, she gasped as she noticed that although there were several obvious battle wounds on him, his back was almost completely covered with old scars that seemed to have come from countless merciless whippings.

“Is something bothering you, lass?” the Beast mumbled, irritated and still looking for her to try to back out of her agreement, “Or are you finding your agreement easier to make than to keep?”

“Nay, M’lord, I was but shocked to see the proof of your words about how you’d been raised, M’lord, and the reminders of how many battles you’ve fought. ’Tis rare for one so young to have been in so many wars, but the truth of your words is reflected by the great number of scars on your body.” Beauty met his gaze and whispered, “Any man who has lived the life you must have lived and seen such ugliness as you’ve witnessed would surely have to be completely hardened to the softer emotions, truly.”

“You think my body’s ugly, lass?” the Beast growled, deliberately misunderstanding her. “It makes no difference to me.”

“No! I think you have a truly well made body, M’lord, ‘tis strong and well muscled. You have a very pleasing face too. ‘Tis what’s been done to you that’s ugly.” Beauty paused, not realizing that her words had pleased him strangely. “I don’t like to think of anyone, let alone the one man I have promised to love, undergoing so much torment and suffering. Remember, M’lord, I have promised to love you in my own way.”

“Rest easy, lass.” The Beast almost smiled in spite of himself. “It’s far too late to change the past and it served to toughen me, to make me fit to lead vast armies, to fight battles and to win wars, and to rule.”

“I don’t believe you have to be so hard to rule. The old lord ruled this land wisely and yet with compassion, M’lord. He was clearly respected by the serfs but also well loved by them. He knew how to rule reasonably with justice tempered by mercy. The local peasants prospered but so did he and his family. He was widely known to truly love his wife and children, and they loved him deeply,” Beauty pointed out, a slight tremor in her voice. “He was truly a fair and just man.”

“And now the old lord is dead,” the Beast countered coldly, stalking over to the bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed and removed his hose and boots. “And his family has disappeared. Now his castle is mine to hold, his lands and peasants mine to rule. Does that not prove he was too weak?”

“And would you, with all your cold, bitter fury and strength of will have withheld against an invading horde any better than he did? Your King sent ten times as many men as the old lord had, all of them well trained and heavily armed. It was not lack of strength or courage that brought the old lord down but overwhelming odds, lack of trained fighting men and good weapons,” Beauty pointed out.

“What brought this matter to your mind now? Do you seek to argue or reason your way out of my bed?” The Beast stood up and walked over to fetch the wine, then returned and stood looking down at her.

“No, M’lord, I went at it clumsily but I wanted to point out that here, in this one place, the warrior can also be a man. You can drop your guard and still be safe,” Beauty said proudly. “I will not betray you but will stand proudly beside you in times of strife.”

“Be warned, lass, for I am not a fool. I know what is said behind my back, that someday I’ll meet the woman who can tame the Beast. I think there’s something more on your pretty mind. I think you seek to be that woman, to be the one to tame the Beast. The woman who can teach me what love is,” the Beast grinned without any humour in it. “Beware my lass, for it cannot be done, and certainly not by the likes of you.”

“Tame the Beast? Ha! What mere woman could manage such a miracle?” Beauty responded with seeming calm but somewhere deep inside her soul the idea had taken root.

She looked up at him as he stood by the bed, naked. Her emotions were jumbled but her mind was clear and fixed. She knew the risks she took by being there with the Beast, not only in his bed but also in his hands, and under his control. In her heart, mayhap to ease her conscience, she saw this pact much as an arranged marriage.

She also realized that the real key to her survival, not only the survival of her body but also the survival of her spirit and her soul did indeed depend on her being able to tame the Beast. She had to succeed or he would surely crush her. Not that she needed to tame him by making him into a weakling, she grasped intuitively, but simply by showing him how to trust someone enough to lower his iron guard and reveal the man hidden deep inside the facade.

She needed to show the Beast that the peasants whom he took for no more than mere animals in the fields were indeed real human beings, with all the hopes, despair, love, fears and dreams of any other people. It was her only chance, albeit a faint one, to improve things not only for herself and her family but also for the villagers.

She also needed to discover his dreams and strive to make his dreams hers, to help him achieve them. She would have to learn to share his goals, worries and responsibilities. The hard part was that she needed to do all this without his knowing it and most certainly without his cooperation; she only needed to overcome his lifetime of hard fought training and deeply held beliefs to achieve it.

The Beast, pouring himself a goblet of wine, climbed into the bed. It was a measure of his lack of regard for Beauty that he simply didn’t consider offering some to her.

Drinking deeply, he turned to her and asked gruffly, “What do they call you, lass?”

Beauty struggled not to shrink away from him, but she was nervous in spite of herself. “They call me Beauty, M’lord.”

“It suits you, lass,” he grinned and reached out for her. “But I doubt it’s your given name.”

In spite of herself, she shrank slightly from his reach. Her trembling increased and she seemed to shrink back into the mattress.

“Breaking your word already?” the Beast growled. “You said you’d be willing and loving.”

“I am,” Beauty protested softly, “but I am also still nervous, M’lord. Even a true bride on her wedding night is entitled to be a little timid. I know nothing of the things that happen between a man and a woman in bed. I don’t know what you expect me to do, or what you want to do to me. Please, M’lord, be just a wee bit patient and show me what you want of me so that I can please you. You made me very happy today when you released my brother. Let me do the same for you.”

Without a word, the Beast stretched out his arm and pulled her over to him. His action was not as rough as it was before but it was implacable and there was no escape. Instinctively, Beauty reached out her small, work-roughened hand and placed it on his chest. She stared into his eyes and gently rubbed a small circle on his chest, feeling the slight coarseness of the light covering of dark hair.

“What do you want me to do, M’lord?” she whispered softly. “What pleases you?”

“Your hand, touching me, pleases me.” The Beast was surprised at the answer that came out of his own mouth. “Have you never touched a man in such a way before, lass?”

When Beauty silently shook her head, the Beast lay back and relaxed slightly, reining himself in and forcing himself to hold back his desires for just a minute. He decided to slow down a bit, even though he was more than ready. He would let this sprite of a girl-woman get to know him just a little before he took her. He wasn’t being weak or kind, his mind whispered defending his decision to himself, he was simply prolonging his own moment of pleasure.

“Then, lass, feel free to explore,” he whispered as he cupped her hand with his own and dragged it softly along down his body.

“Truly, M’lord?” Beauty was shyly pleased in spite of her fears.

“Truly,” the Beast grinned at her, already finding her timid willingness strangely touching. “I’ll bear up under it somehow.”

Beauty tried to ignore the quiver she felt, seeing him grin. She stroked his hard chest with her delicate hands, exploring and tracing his old wounds and his firm muscles. She delighted in the hard contours and light furring of his chest. She rubbed one finger lightly over one of his nipples and felt his body jerk in reaction.

“Is that bad, M’lord? Did I do something wrong? I’m truly sorry.” Alarmed, she looked up into his face, afraid that he might be displeased with her actions.

The Beast clenched his jaw, “No lass, do not be sorry. It feels very good, almost too good. Pray continue.” He finally smiled and said a word he had seldom used before. “Please.”

Slightly reassured, she returned her attention to his chest. With one small hand she was once more touching one of his nipples and flicking her thumb over its nub.

The Beast found himself fighting for control over his body and his urges but he also realized he was actually enjoying the sensations she roused in him.

Beauty kept up her sensual exploration, her hands moving ever so slowly downward. She teased his navel, explored his hips and muscled abdomen before going ever lower, and even encountered the thick thatch of dark curls below his waist.

She paused before she finally teased the wiry curls but she carefully avoided touching his erect manhood until the Beast quickly took her hand in his and firmly guided it to him, showing her the motion he hungered so much to feel. She blushed as she felt the length and thickness of his fully erect penis. As she slid her hand along its length, she marvelled at the texture of it, the soft skin covering the hard muscle inside.

“It’s so big! Doesn’t it get in your way?” she asked, completely without guile. “All hard and sticking up like that?”

In spite of himself, and for the first time in a long time, the Beast laughed openly. “It’s not like that all the time, lass, only when I’m ready for a woman.”

The timid, sensual stroking continued for a moment before the Beast continued in a tight voice, “Lass, if you truly want to please me, you should know one thing: Any place you explore with your hands, you can also explore with your mouth.”

Beauty blushed furiously but she mumbled, “As M’lord wishes.”

Gingerly she lowered her mouth to his chest, shyly licking and kissing him. Remembering his reaction to the touch of her hand on his nipple, she gently licked at the nub with her tongue before nipping it. Her hands were still stroking his erect manhood.

Suddenly, the stroking of her hands and the gentle touch of her mouth was too much for the Beast to bear. With a low growl, he signalled that her brief respite was at an end. He ripped the thin gown from her and rolled over on top of her without a word and used his knee to spread her legs apart. He entered her quickly and roughly, ignoring her scream of anguish.

She felt a pain like she’d never felt before as he shredded her virginity. He used no care or finesse with her. He thrust hard and fast with no thought of tenderness or mercy. He thought only of his own pleasure. She held onto him with all her meagre strength, determined not to cry out again as he rode her roughly until he climaxed and collapsed in a heavy heap on top of her. In spite of herself, she wept softly, too spent and too hurt to even attempt to hide her tears.

“You didn’t know it was going to be so hard to keep your bargain, did you my little lass?” the Beast muttered against her neck, softly taunting. “Have ye no mother? No sisters? Did no one ever tell you that the first time for a woman could be very painful?”

In spite of his taunting words, he held her gently and stroked her hair with a tenderness that would have shocked him if he’d only realized it. Almost against her will, she relaxed slightly in his arms.

“No, M’lord, my mother is very ill and I have no sisters,” Beauty replied softly. Then she looked up at the Beast and asked shyly, hopefully, “Only the first time?”

“I know it gets easier, that the bleeding stops and the sharp tearing pain is gone after the first time, but there may be some tenderness for a while,” the Beast told her softly. Then he surprised both of them by adding, “I’ve never kept a woman around long enough to find out if she ever comes to fully enjoy it as much as I do, but I’ve heard rumours that some women do.”

“Would the women who come to enjoy mating be sluts, M’lord?” Beauty asked. “Or whores? Or do decent women ever come to enjoy it?”

“I know not for sure, but ’tis probably not the common sluts or whores they speak of. Those women care not for the size of a man’s tool, they only enjoy the size of a man’s purse and the colour of his coin.” The Beast pondered this before he mused aloud, “I wonder if there are any places on your body that please you when they’re touched like there are on mine? Strange that I’ve never thought of it before.”

“I don’t know of any such places, M’lord, but if it pleases you to find out, then please feel free to explore,” Beauty offered smiling softly, still nervous but trying not to let it show. “I’m here to do whatever you want.”

Amused at both her suggestion and her nerve, the Beast decided to comply. With hands that felt rough from years of battle, he gently stroked and explored her soft body. He spent several long minutes fondling her full breasts, gently teasing her nipples. To the surprise of them both, she squirmed and gasped under his gentle touch. By his very nature, he was bolder than she had been when she explored his body. His mouth quickly followed the path forged by his hands and he savoured the taste and texture of her soft skin.

He soon learned that touching and suckling her full breasts both gave pleasure and caused her to moan and writhe with sensuality so fierce that it almost crossed the border into pain. He let his hands move slowly downwards, with his mouth still suckling her breasts. He discovered that she responded almost as wildly as he did when her sex was touched.

Knowing from long, lonely nights that touch alone could bring him some satisfaction, he slid a long finger into her, gently stroking her. His thumb brushed the nub of her sex and he quickly realized this coaxed an even greater reaction from her. She writhed and squirmed, her legs clasping around his hand. The Beast watched her face as he gently fingered her and heard her soft moans. He kept up the gentle stroking for a long time, repeatedly speeding up and slowing down. He felt her wetness and knew a strange pride that he could coax such a reaction from her.

In a combination of wonder, pleasure and curiosity, he lowered his mouth to her soft curls and kissed her there. His tongue teased the nub even as his fingers slid quickly in and out of her. In mere seconds, she was writhing in a frenzy that he recognized from his own release. He was so amazed that he almost raised his head and stopped, but she grabbed him by the hair and held him to her until her body shook and she gave a startled little scream.

While she lay sighing and panting cuddled by his side, he realized that he was ready again. Quickly he got her into position and thrust into her. Although she was still quite tender, his recent ministration with hands and mouth had readied her, making the entrance moist and the passage in easier. Her still aroused body slowly began to respond to his fast, hard thrusts. She was just beginning to get a hint of the pleasure that they could find together when he moaned aloud and climaxed inside her.

After his breathing returned to normal, the Beast did something that surprised both of them very much. He got out of the bed and walked nude over to the small table. He poured some water from the pitcher sitting there into a small bowl. Then he dampened a soft cloth and walked back to the bed. He pulled back the covers and sheets, ignoring her blushes, and very tenderly washed her virgin’s blood from her body. He also discarded the shredded remnants of her gown, and then slid back into the bed.

“You didn’t feel so much pain this time, did you lass?” the Beast asked her gently, his large body wrapped next to hers, relaxing fully for the first time he could ever remember.

“It was much nicer. I admit I enjoyed having you explore my body,” Beauty responded shyly, blushing furiously. “Do I please you, M’lord?”

“You please me well, Beauty.” The Beast kissed her soundly, tasting the sweetness of her mouth for the first time before he continued, “But beware, this is only a pleasure for me, a trifling. Don’t expect there to be anything more between us. You’re a possession, merely a possession. I will still take you whenever and wherever I want. I will still do whatever I wish to you and I will not hesitate to take a whip to you if you fail to please me.”

“And when you are done with me?” she asked timidly. “What then?”

The demon hidden not so deep within the Beast rose up unexpectedly. He was still trying to test her resolve, to prove to her and to himself that she was no more faithful and trustworthy than countless others in his life had been.

He replied coldly, rolling her over, partially atop him, “Why do you ask? It is none of your concern what I do when I am done with you. You are mine, like my horse or my hawk. When I tire of you I will replace you with another even more beautiful woman in my bed. Possibly, I will give you to one of my men as a reward, or mayhap send you away. I could even decide just to kill you or to have you killed. It matters not.”

“It matters somewhat to me, M’lord,” Beauty stated wryly and proudly, hiding the wretched fear his cold words aroused in her heart and soul. “But I know not what you say when you accuse me of trying to tame you. Your proclamation is no more than I expected from your treatment of me.”

“Liar!” The Beast taunted her sharply before he unconsciously voiced his own hidden fear, “You enjoyed the treatment I lavished on you or shall I put my mouth to your sex again and see if I can make you scream? I know you expect much more from me, in bed and out. You hope and pray for my kindness, my consideration and even perhaps for my affection. You but fool yourself, for I don’t have it inside me to give, Beauty. I know you even think to tame the Beast and I warn you now, it simply cannot be done. Life has hardened me overmuch.”

Beauty kept silent but somewhere deep inside herself, perhaps on an instinctive level, she recognized the basis of uncertainty and the defensive quality behind his declaration. He’s unsure of himself, she realized, and afraid I might gain some small degree of power over him. Her heart leaped in her chest and a few short words began to form in the back of her brain: We’ll see, my fine Lord, we’ll see who tames the mighty beast.

She kept her thoughts carefully hidden and remained compliant beside him. It was a long and exhausting night for Beauty. She was far too sore to sleep easily and still very nervous around the great knight. Of course, every time she did drift towards sleep, he reached for her yet again. Towards morning, he pulled her to him and simply pushed her head down towards his erection.

“Pleasure me with your mouth,” he commanded firmly.

She was shocked and very unsure of exactly what to do but she tried to comply. She quickly learned how to pleasure him and soon tasted him as he reached his peak.

When morning finally arrived Beauty was completely exhausted and very stiff and sore. She snuggled deeper into the cushions and tried to ignore the stern, male voice telling her to get up. That was her first mistake. Suddenly she was wide awake as she felt the Beast’s large, rough hand descending harshly on her bare buttocks. She found herself pinned to the mattress, her hands grasped behind her back by one of the Beast’s hands while his other hand punished her.

It was a long, sharp spanking. She screamed and squealed as his hand descended rapidly and harshly on her bare bottom. A loud crack accompanied each quick slap. The punishment was causing a pink blush to spread quickly all over her pale skin. Her flesh jiggled slightly under each separate spank. Soon, even the pink blush began to take on a darker hue, turning cherry red. When her whole bottom was fiery and hot and she was crying like a baby, she heard the command repeated.

“Get dressed, go down and tell one of the servants to prepare my bath. Then go to the kitchen and tell them I’m awake and to start preparation of the morning meal. Come back straight away and help me bathe or I’ll spank you again, and this time I’ll make sure your bottom is so red you can’t sit down,” the Beast was implacable.

“Yes, M’lord.” She scurried to obey, pausing only to quickly rub her throbbing, sore bottom.

The Beast watched with relish as she rubbed her tender red butt while trying to avoid his eyes.

“Hurry girl, or do you want some more?” he growled, amused. “You seem to find that wee taste of a slappin’ so interesting.”

Wee taste indeed, she thought as she quickly pulled on her torn gown, my whole bottom hurts and I’ll not want to sit down for a long while. Does he think I’m still a young girl to be thus punished? Although as a young child she’d had much longer and harsher spankings, as an adult she felt above such things. I’ll get revenge on you yet my fine lord, she thought.

As he watched her practically run from the room, the Beast thought to himself: Who would have thought a wee bit of a lass could be so amusing and could pleasure me so much. It might be worth it to keep this chit of a girl around for a bit.

Beauty practically ran into the kitchen, struggling as she held the shreds of her gown together. She called out to a servant to help her find the maid, Gwyneth.

“Quick, Gwyneth, I need your help,” she told the maid. “The Beast is up and growling.”

“Don’t ye call him the Beast in front of me, lass.” Gwyneth rebuked Beauty sharply although she was secretly pleased to realize that the lass’ spirit was not yet broken.

“I’ve already got things ready for him,” she told Beauty. “Milord’s bathwater is already boiling. I’ll tell the lads to take it up. His meal is almost ready for him to break his fast.”

“Thank you, Gwyneth,” Beauty told the older woman with a shy grin. “Truly, I meant no disrespect earlier when I called him the Beast. He really did seem to be growling this morning.”

“He must be very tired then, as sometimes he’s in such a mood when he fails to get enough sleep,” the older woman grinned. “Was it from poking you so often or was it from struggling with you to accomplish the deed at all?”

“’Twas not from any struggle I gave him, he had no problem at all with me,” Beauty blushed fiery red, “except getting me up this morning to do his bidding.”

“Be ye well, lass?” Gwyneth asked gently.

“Passably well, I guess,” Beauty grudgingly admitted as she gingerly and unconsciously rubbed her sore bottom, “except for some stiffness, a sore butt, and his lordship’s infernal impatience to get his bath and some food this morning.”

Gwyneth smiled to herself but said only, “Then ‘tis best if ye get back up there to help him bathe and dress or he’ll pull you back over his knee and spank you again. He likes to do that. There’s a spare gown for you in the wardrobe. I think that one’s ruined.”

“Really?” Beauty shot back, hiding a rueful grin. “What makes you say that?”

Beauty hurried up the stairs. The Beast had just seated himself in the steaming tub. “It took you long enough. Get over here and scrub my back, lass. Be quick about it or do you need another spanking?”

Beauty quickly picked up the sponge and began scrubbing his back. Was it her fault that later, as she washed his long, dark hair, she managed to get some soap into his eyes? Was it her fault that the rinse water she poured over his head had turned so cold?

The Beast reacted instantly as the cold rinse water hit him. Reaching out a long arm, he quickly pulled Beauty into the tub on top of himself. She wound up sitting on his lap, feeling his hardness beneath her in the rapidly cooling water.

“You’ll pay for it dearly if you ever pour water that cold on me again,” he growled.

“I’m sorry, M’lord.” Beauty did not sound repentant as she hid a grin. “It was but an accident.”

“Sure it was,” the Beast muttered, meeting her lips with his in a quick kiss. “I know you would never do anything like that intentionally; just remember, an accident like that could cause you to get another spanking or your brother to hang.”

Beauty stiffened at the threat. The Beast rose from the small tub with Beauty still in his arms, a feat requiring considerable strength considering the awkwardness of his body and hers entwined in the small tub. He carried her over to the bed and lowered her to the mattress, covering her body with his.

“M’lord!” Beauty protested. “We cannot, it’s daytime.”

“What on earth does daytime have to do with anything?” the Beast asked her amused.

“Well, ’tis indecent,” Beauty said uncertainly, “isn’t it?”

“According to you, everything we do together is indecent, Beauty.” The Beast slid into her in a firm thrust. “So what difference does the sunlight make?”

Beauty never answered. The Beast stroked her body with his hands even as he thrust in and out of her moist body. She was beginning to learn how to respond to his movements and his rhythms, but he finished too soon for her to get any real enjoyment from it.

At the knock on the door, he covered their bodies with a luxurious fur pelt and yelled for the servant to come inside. It was Gwyneth carrying the tray filled with their morning meal. She had brought fresh fruit, cold milk, hot bread straight from the oven, fried potatoes and porridge with honey.

The Beast balanced the tray on his lap and began to eat with relish. “Eat up, Beauty.”

She began to pick at the food with little enthusiasm but gradually her appetite got the better of her and she ate heartily. The Beast noticed her appetite and smiled to himself.

“I guess you’re hungry,” he commented casually as he watched her eat. In spite of himself, he felt a little guilty. “I hope you had dinner last night. I never thought to ask you if you required anything.”

“Gwyneth took care of me, M’lord,” Beauty replied quietly, pausing in her dining. “As you knew she would.”

Instinctively she realized that his statement was an apology of sorts, probably as good an apology as she would ever receive from him.

“If you ever have any hunger or thirst, just mention it to one of the servants. They will take care of you,” the Beast told her. “Don’t wait for me to order food or drink for you.”

“How can I order your servants about?” Beauty asked, protesting. “I’m only one of your servants myself.”

“You have a special status, and I will make sure they all know it,” the Beast promised.

“I’m your whore, what status is there in that?” Beauty hung her head and whispered.

“The strange thing is,” the Beast reached over and lifted her chin with his hand, looking into her eyes as he replied, “I don’t think of you as a whore.” He saw her open her mouth to protest and continued rapidly, “I’ll admit I use you in bed, and I intend to continue doing so. I just do not think of you as a whore, not even mine. Please don’t consider yourself such.”

“I will not, M’lord.” Beauty paused. “But what am I then? What is my status in the castle?”

“Consider yourself my companion and my mistress,” the Beast replied, setting aside the tray to take her into his arms again. “And my lover.”