It's been a while, I know, I was so nervous about posting my first sex scene. Yup, time for explicit Beast/Belle loving. Ahem, my wonderful Beta TrudiRose wasn't available to screen this one, so it might be a little rough around the edges. So let me know what you think. Thanks for sticking with me for so long!
Crepe thin layers of accumulated snow held just enough resistance to allow Belle, if she walked lightly, to move gracefully across it's surface. Beast, however, with his more substantial weight, sank to his ankles with every step he took. For now the sky withheld it's chilled offerings, and allowed them to play unperturbed.
Belle had taken a little more sleep before lunch had been served. She felt refreshed. Her countenance seemed to express this, cheeks rosy from the brisk air, eyes open wide to their softened surroundings. The cold made her breaths quick. She took down her hair in hopes of warming her neck and face, looking behind her to find that Beast had trailed a bit. She stood where she was as Beast lifted his face to the overcast sky. Reminded briefly of how her father would often do the same, she smiled.
Belle scanned her surroundings, looking for the stable perhaps, but instead her eyes fell upon the greenhouse. The normally transparent walls were caked in layers of snow, almost invisible. She wondered if the flowers were still able to bloom in their glass fortress, even in the face of winter's trials. She looked to catch Beast's eye, and found him already looking back at her. It began to snow anew. Belle took breath to suggest the greenhouse for shelter, but Beast had already begun to trudge towards her. His trajectory seemed to suggest that they both yearned for the warmth the enclosure had likely gathered.
A current of steaming tea rushed and whorled over itself in the thin porcelain of Reginald's tea cup as he poured from his freshly made pot. For a moment he simply observed his drink, taking in the delicate aroma of his personal mix of herbs. The trip to the market with Cogsworth had alternated between pleasant and nerve-wracking. After the close confines of the music box that had acted as his prison, it had been odd to see such a wide-open space.
The biscuits he had shared with Cogsworth had not run out yet. There were, according to his memory, three left. He went to one of the many cupboards to collect them for his tea when the kitchen door was pushed open by a small blonde boy, smiling widely. His front tooth bore a small, distinct chip.
“Good afternoon, Doctor!” The fair haired boy practically skipped into the room, then sidled up to the table. Reginald felt a pang of fear for his fragile tea set. Chip looked into the cup, wrinkling his nose at the unfamiliar smell, the odd color.
“Violet tea.” Reginald replied blankly. Then, in a knee-jerk fashion, he asked. “Where is your mother?”
“Momma's taking a bath, she said she wanted quiet.” Chip looked into the pot, lifting the lid to peer inside. “It's not purple.”
“The title refers to the flower, not the color, boy,” The older man's tone was weary, but the boy did not seem to notice.
“Is it for medicine?” Chip inquired, eyeing the biscuits in the doctors hand sharply.
“It has some soothing qualities.” Reginald placed one of the three biscuits on the table near the boy, hoping that had been the child's intent all along. To his relief Chip took the treat and gave the doctor a toothy grin.
“Thanks!” he chirped, he took his first bite, “Do you know where Belle is?”
The doctor had his suspicions, having arrived at Beast's room for a general check-up to find it empty. After a cursory search, he had seen Lumiere coming from the east wing with a knowing grin on his face. Upon eye contact Lumiere's expression had instantly fell flat and bored. It was not like Lumiere to hide his flirtations.
“She is spending time with the Master, most likely. Don't go looking for her, you understand?”
Chip pouted and turned to leave with the remainder of his treat, already pondering ways to entertain himself while he waited for Belle to reappear.
Whether through the properties of the greenhouse, or some mysterious magic, the flowers had not ceased to bloom. Belle opened the door and stepped in with Beast close behind her. She had never seen such a lush and wide variety of flowers in all her life. They crowded each other as if they had been allowed to outgrow whatever original design they had been planted for. Stems intertwining, vine roses climbed and intermingled as they chose amongst the foliage of honeysuckle and other colorful fauna.
“Oh, how beautiful!” she exclaimed, looking around in wonder and going to a large bush of yellow roses, their petals tipped with pink. She cupped her hands around an open bloom and inhaled deeply with closed eyes. Beast watched her as he shut the glass door behind himself. Belle turned back to him, smiling. Beast smiled lightly back, taking her hand and leading her to sit on a stone bench near a wall lined with trailing ivy. She followed happily, leaning against him as they sat, her head resting against his chest as his arm settled comfortably around her. In the quiet they could hear the shush of snow as it began to fall anew.
“My mother had this built,” he rumbled, after a time. Belle turned her head to meet his eyes. After a beat of silence Beast continued.
“I didn't come here after... She was ill and she couldn't return from her travels.” Beast looked at the grassy ground, remembering the letter that had been sent, ten years ago at least. How crisp and formal it had been, written by the queen's own physician, informing young prince Adam that his mother would no longer be able to take long trips away from his elder brother's castle, much less to the other side of France.
“What was she like?”
“She was... nice. Like Mrs. Potts, but thinner.” Beast realized that he could barely remember her. “You would have liked her.”
“Did she pass away?” she laid her hand on his knee, cautious sympathy on her face.
“She was sick for a long time, Belle.” he didn't want to talk on the subject anymore. He felt an inevitable conclusion coming and the prospect put a pit in his stomach. He angled his face away from her, but kept his arm around her.
“You don't know?” Belle asked in surprise.
His body tensed in response as if he had been struck, his voice took on a deep growl. “Belle,-” He cut himself short to recompose himself and took a breath. “If she were alive, I wouldn't want her to know that... I am.” It had been years since he had decided that, but saying the words aloud had hurt.
“Oh,” Belle responded. She had forgotten that the curse was a shameful secret. Then she remembered something else with a quick intake of breath. She looked to his somber expression and rose up to her knees to give him a fortifying kiss. Her movement caused him to look up, and he greeted her offering with an eagerness that spoke deeply of relief. She pulled softly away to break it, adjusting the lapel of his over shirt and smoothing it flat.
“Just one more question?” she queried gently. Beast sighed silently, but nodded.
“What happened, on the night that you... changed?”
His face twisted. Belle settled back on the bench, eyes looking at him with her full attention. She scooted close to him, taking the hand on his lap and holding it on her own lap, giving his large finger a light squeeze of encouragement.
“It was Christmas...” He started out, speaking deliberately. Belle nodded, she knew that part.
“It was snowing, and I was in the dining hall with Cogsworth, and Lumiere and Mrs. Potts.”
“How old were you?”
Beast fought the urge to counter that she had only asked for one more question, and took a moment to recall. “Eleven.” He stated with certainty. Belle felt her spark of anger for the sorcerer reignite. Beast paused, and when she asked no more questions he continued.
“Someone knocked at the door. I was bored, so I answered it.”
Beast paused again. The rough pad of his thumb petted her soft hand for comfort on the warmth of her thigh. Belle was nearly at the edge of her seat, restraining herself from pushing him to continue. She knew Lumiere was right, this would be a hard story for anyone to tell, but Beast looked literally weighed down by the burden, he stared down at the grass as he spoke.
“There was an old beggar women outside, and she had a rose. She wanted to give it to me so she could come inside.” His voice was starting to sound strained. He took a breath “I was angry at her, I thought maybe she was trying to trick me somehow, and she was... ugly. So I told her to leave.”
Suddenly the pieces were coming together for Belle.
“She wouldn't leave though. I told her she would not be allowed into the castle. And then she changed. She rose up in the air, and she glowed, and she said that because,” Beast's free hand clutched his knee. “Because my heart had no love, I would be a, a monster.”
The muscles in his arm tensed with the word, his claws digging into his pant leg. “I tried to apologize. I offered her a room, but.” no, he had begged her to take his room, even his father's. His hand went from his knee to slide down over his face.
“She was beautiful when she did it, Belle. She looked like an angel.”
He glanced to her, his hand still held by hers. Belle looked odd, as if on the verge of one emotion but still planted in another. Her mind was full of revelations, her nature yearned to mull them over, but there would be plenty of time to think about it later.
“Beast, I'm so sorry.” she whispered. Using her free hand to rub his forearm through his sleeve and laying it over his hand in her lap, cradling his hand as best she could in both of hers.
Beast's eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. “You don't think I deserved it?” Belle tilted her head, not quite sure how to phrase what she thought. “You were just a boy. It doesn't seem fair, especially now.”
Beast nodded, looking down to their hands. There was a sense of vindication in her understanding that soothed him. Although he knew that his behavior had been cruel, and was ashamed of his past selfishness. He was glad she had asked, but hoped they were done talking about it.
“But,” Belle's eyes grew glassy, and Beast looked up. Belle squeezed his hand, gathering up her courage. “That wasn't what I was talking about.” Looking thoughtful, Beast rubbed his thumb along the side of Belle's palm, remaining quiet and watching her face.
“That rose I saw in the west- in your room, it didn't have long when I saw it.” Beast lowered his eyes, brows furrowing as he looked down at their hands. “When I left, you must have known, you <must> have known that it was going to run out.”
Beast's head shot up, “Who tol-”
“Wait,” Belle said with another squeeze to his hand. “But you let me go anyway,” she looked straight into his eyes, “How could you have done that? If you had just told me,” her breath hitched. She would have told him she loved him that night, if she had only known. She wasn't sure if she should say it though. She looked away to wipe tears she felt gathering. “I never would have let you be trapped in a body you don't want. Even though I-”
“Your father was dying.” Beast replied, his voice somber, “And I didn't let you say goodbye.”
Belle heard his words like a stab to the heart. She doubted that he had gotten the chance to say goodbye to his parents. She rose up on her knees to embrace him and he brought her close gladly. He pressed his lips against her collar bone, the upper part of his face was nearly encased in her hair, and he inhaled deeply. Her scent brought with it a sense of calm that he felt around experimentally before settling into. He kissed her warm skin as he let the breath go. Belle felt his kiss and pressed a gentle kiss of her own on his temple. She felt a little guilty for making him talk about such heavy subjects, but it needed to be done. She ran her hand gently over the velvet texture of his ear, considering. Beast's slow, heated breaths dispersed over her shoulder and across her chest contrasting with the stagnant and tepid air of the greenhouse. She dipped her head and brought her hand to cup his ear near her lips.
“I had a dream about you last night.” she whispered warmly.
Beast shuddered, and Belle felt his ear shift in her hand. He shifted his weight, and she bit her lip. Beast lifted his head, but looked downward.
“Was it a good dream?” he asked, flicking his eyes to hers, his tail swished over the stone bench.
“Of course.” she said simply. Not keen to make eye contact either, she released his ear and settled into his lap. His arm went around her without a thought, she rested comfortably against his bicep.
“Tell me.” he urged, his hand rested on her knee, giving a soft squeeze to emphasize.
Belle blushed, and brought her hand to her cheek feeling the warmth through her fingers. She had started this after all, and he deserved to hear it. Beast's eyes were heavy on her. His arms wrapped around her as Belle drew her arms about his neck and brought his ear closer to her lips. It was easier to speak when she didn't feel so watched.
“We were on the balcony, outside of the dance hall. It was night, and the stars were out. I was wearing the yellow dress.” Belle smiled, “We were dancing in the moonlight, and my dress started to fall apart.” Belle felt her fiance's legs moving beneath her. “I saw that your clothes were falling off too, like the stitches were disappearing. But we didn't stop dancing.” Beast's hands flexed where they rested on Belle's body. The fingers of one hand spreading over her side, the other petting her outer thigh. She kissed his high cheek bone.
“When there weren't any clothes left, we stopped dancing. And you saw me, and I wasn't embarrassed, I felt so beautiful.” A soft, short groan escaped from Beast at this. “We saw each other, and there was nothing but love between us.” Belle felt herself responding to the memory as she spoke. “We kissed, and we... touched each other...” She trailed off as she felt his grip on her tighten. Belle squirmed in Beast's lap, heart pounding at his groan, longer and low. There was a touch of something bestial in the lilt of his utterance, and it thrilled her. She caressed his hand at her side, feeling the shape of muscle and bone beneath the softness of his fur. Beast kissed her throat, the hand on her thigh moved to knead the softness there. She sighed and tilted her head to rest against his ruff, she rubbed her cheek into the coolness, then turned her face to nuzzle towards the warmth of his skin. Her body ached for the feelings that had arose in her dreams. At the risk of being too forward, she wanted to revisit the place they had arrived at just this morning, lost in the pleasure of sensation, numb to guilt and self-consciousness. The hand that rested over his on her side gently hinted him towards her breasts.
Beast felt strangely shell shocked, he had shared his most shameful moment with her, and Belle had swept it away so easily. He almost questioned whether he had actually told her anything. But, when her warmth had ghosted across his ear, he let the thought drop. Almost instantly he was back to were they had left off in her bedroom. The heated passion rebuilt as if they hadn't paused. Beast felt the pinch of his erection returning, and could only spare a second to think about it, before he felt Belle's hand pressing his higher.
Beast held his breath as his hand rose slowly up her ribcage, till his length of his thumb was pressed along the underside of her left breast. He paused, then lightly ran his thumb over the top, following the contour of it. Belle gave a short whimper and pressed her body tighter against his with a shudder, sending a flare of arousal shooting up his spine. He brought his hand to rest along the side of her breast, running the pad of his thumb over the silk of her winter dress. Searching for and finding the press of her nipple, he rubbed his finger deliberately up and down over it, his other hand rubbed over her outer thigh nervously. He felt Belle rubbing her legs together, felt her shudder and press herself harder into his hand.
“Oh, Belle.” he managed, the pulse between his legs growing stronger as the scent of her arousal grew more heady. Belle's efforts to press her body close spoke loudly to him. He took hold of her flank and with an arm across her back he lifted her. Beast tried in vain to position her over his lap. Her dress restrained her from straddling him, till she rucked it up about her hips, looking him in the eye as she did it, flushed with lust. Her petticoats were edged with velvet that matched her dress, and Beast couldn't help but wonder if perhaps she had chosen them with purpose.
Their hips close together, Belle's legs embraced his waist. Beast held an arm across her back so that she could lean comfortably as he cupped each breast, one after the other, in his palm. He reveled at the sensation of that soft mound yielding beneath his hand, the press of her roused flesh at the center of his palm. The flush on her cheeks spread till it disappeared beneath the top of her dress. Belle combed her
fingers though the bottom of his ruff, petted his cheek as her breath quickened. Squeezing gently, Beast applied thoughtful pressure until he was sure she wanted more. He kissed her and began to knead her breasts, wishing that both of his hands were free, feeling a strange need to fulfill her symmetry. Belle gasped through her nose at the intense sensation, arching her back with a soft moan and placing more weight in his lap, Beast's hips jerked upward. He broke their kiss with a growl.
“Belle.” he repeated his voice barely above a whisper as her name rumbled from his throat. Belle's skin rose with goosebumps at the sound of her name in that tone. Her hand pressed his hand on her breast, speaking in a dreamy voice, “That feels wonderful”. Belle had never imagined just how visceral this stimulation would be, she felt drunk on it. Even her dreams paled in comparison.
His hips rose up, slowly, into her again “Belle”,
Belle felt him between her legs, firm against her sex through his clothes and her petticoats. She gently rocked her hips forward and her eyelids dropped as Beast let out a low, frustrated whine. She felt his muscles tense, his arm round her tighten with her movement, the hand at her breast paused, as she continued to move breathy exhalations followed her rhythm. She looked up to his face to see that his eyes were closed, brows furrowed. The intense pleasure he showed in her slight movements incensed her, and made her stare at the large bulge between them, wondering. She took a deep breath, and reached her hand down to grip him as best she could through his pants, sliding her hand firmly down and back up again.
The response she received was electric. His hands held her against him and his head went back with a strangled roar, thrusting into her hand before he could stop himself. Belle's arm was pinned between them, unable to move, her cheek against his chest.
“I need room to keep going,” Belle whispered, squeezing him gently between her fingers. Beast whimpered softly, his hips hitching into her hand. Anxiety at how hard it was to stop, to make himself still pulled at Beast's bliss; her frame was so slight, so fragile...
Words were slow to come to him in this state, but her name came easily. “Belle” he said, his voice pleading.
“Let me,” she replied in a soothing voice. A few moments passed, and he released his tight hold on her. Belle felt more warm and powerful than perhaps she ever had, her curiosity for him peaked.
“I want to touch you.”
He nodded, leaning back against the cold glass wall behind their bench, his chest billowing, spreading his knees as Belle situated herself to pleasure him more comfortably. She resumed stroking him through his clothing. Belle paused a second to comprehend how big he was in her hand, thick and throbbing to the touch. Beast squirmed and she continued, cupping him with her hand and sliding in a steady rhythm over the cloth, up and down.
Beast was far gone from himself, pleasure radiating from his core. He tries to recall a single moment in his life that has ever felt so good. His eyes close tightly as he gives up on trying to think, his hands come up to cover his face, almost seeking refuge from the overwhelm of his senses. Then he brings them down to the bench, to hold the stone in his flexing grip.
Belle blatantly stares as a spot of wetness forms and grows over the head of the bulge in Beast's pants. Glancing up to his face, and feeling a little triumph at the mask of pleasure she sees, she runs the fingertips of her free hand lightly over the area. Beast gives out a low groan, his legs shifting further apart. Belle's bites her lips, circling over the spot again as she continues to stroke him. Her fingertips find a small pit at the top of him and with a jolt she realizes what it must be. She feels him twitch against her hand through the cloth as she rubs along the indention. A quick grunt escapes Beast at the sensation, his eyes open shortly, try to focus, but quickly close again.
Belle runs her soft hand further down his length, curious to puzzle together what she could while she pleasured her Beast. Without preamble, her fingers sensed what she had already guessed. It felt as though he had an extra layer of thick skin around the base of him. She takes in the truth of it without pause and brings her hand lower. The material of his fine linen pants leave enough room to manipulate him, and the warm heft of his sac in her hand makes her lips part with surprise at the size, one hand failing to cup the whole of it. Beast takes an audible breath and shifts his weight at the feeling of being lifted. Belle's other hand quickly resumes stroking him as she continues to fondle, her pace climbing with her own excitement. Beast moans toward the ceiling of the greenhouse, his deep voice no longer quiet, anxiety swallowed up by anticipation. Belle thrilled at the sound of it. His body seemed to be going taut, his legs straight and his feet pointed, flexing. The tension he gave off poured from him as Belle watched him, enthralled and endlessly aroused at his increasing response. Thoughts humming, Belle felt enticed to see him come, wanted to see it happen right then, right before her eyes.
“Beast” Belle whispered, heat and pressure swirling in her own loins, her hands slowed, “Do you want to finish?” she asked, her voice perhaps a bit more eager than she would have chosen. Beast nodded sharply, breathless.
“But your pants...how will you get back inside the castle?”
Beast needed this, needed it. Two long days of foreplay and no release had him desperate. Belle's fingertips brushed lightly over his tip again and he gritted his teeth as his decision was made.
“I'll-”, Beast paused, embarrassed. “I'll cover it with my cape. Belle...”
Beast felt Belle's hand resume it's quick rubbing motions and his head fell back in relief. The fur that lined his spine rose as a goosebumps sensation sprawled over his torso. In a distant way, through the thick haze of pleasure, he knew that her hands would tell her plenty of what he had hoped to keep from her. As his muscles tightened his vulnerable ego was bathed and reborn in ethereal acceptance. He felt pressure within him, and as it built a subconscious sense of relinquishment built with it. To trust the strength of her love even with all of his flaws laid before her became easier with every stroke. He could feel pre-come soaking through his pants. The thought of Belle's bare skin touching it both repulsed him and caused him to twitch in her grasp. Her hand paused only a second, but Beast glanced at her glowing face to see her smile, her eyes fixed to his lower half. She readjusted herself and beast felt both of her hands encircle him more completely, the narrow channel she created increasing his pleasure all the more.
A wave of euphoria washed over him, and Beast opened his eyes to lock with Belle's. He took a deep breath through his nose and mouth, and with the sweet, tepid air came the smell that he had been introduced to only hours earlier. The must that belonged only to Belle, only with him. As Belle's eyes widened his vision sharpened, and every detail imprinted itself upon him. Instantaneously, Beast knew that he would never forget this second. The euphoria solidified within him, shortening his breaths, his hands tore away from their grip on the stone bench and grabbed for Belle, his hands clenching over her hips as he began to thrust in her hands. He felt his body trying to roar, but didn't have the breath. Short, quavering, throaty moans escaped him without filter.
Belle fought the urge to pet him, knowing he was close, but it was hard not to while he was in such an expressive state. To see the man that had shown so little of himself to her at the beginning, exposing these frayed ends to her touch. She wanted to run her hand along his tight abdomen and feel it move with his quick breath, wanted to stretch up and kiss him. Watching his pupils expand right before her eyes in such a dramatic fashion had thrilled her to her bones and she longed to lean across him and look into those alluring new moons. All the same she kept her pace, cupping as much of him as his pants would allow as she rubbed him.
“Oh” he murmured, his voice rose an octave “Belle”. His trembling fists, clenching in her dress, pulled at her as his eyes widened.
A loud groan followed as the thick member between Belle's hands pulsed, Beast gave out a stunted roar with the first, his hips hitching upward in unison with the sound. Then Beast melted, his frame relaxed of all tension as Belle watched the dark spot in his pants grow. With a feeling of relief she stretched over him and brushed his bottom lip with hers as one hand continued to lightly stroke him. She felt another pulse from his member, followed by another, each one synced with some subtle movement of his hips.
Beast breathed deeply. Sentiment gushed from him as he felt her kiss and looked to see her face, rosy and picturesque, looking back at him.
“I love you,” he rumbled, pulling her closer as he sat up. He felt unbalanced in the most pleasant of ways, his fiance serving as the anchor of his attention. Belle began to stand, holding his hand as she did.
“I love you, too” she murmured bashfully, averting her eyes even as she held to his fingers.
In the sensual languor of his orgasm, Beast could not stand for her discomfort, not with the cloying feeling of devotion that she had stirred in him. The answer seemed simple in his mind. He stood, and maneuvered her to sit back on the bench. Belle looked at him in confusion. In a fluid motion, he kneeled before her and pulled her dress up to her lap.
Belle had almost spoken before she felt the rough nap of his tongue drag across her through her petticoats. Her sex, more swollen and aroused than it had ever been in her entire life, flooded sensation all through her, down to the tips of her toes. Her breath hitched as her nipples rose anew to points beneath her clothing.
Beast relished her taste. Her smell fulfilled some strange part of him and fueled him to continue on a cloud of ardour and instinct. He watched her face as her head went back and a sense achievement filled him. With her eyes turned away, Beast opened his jaw wider, aware of the incidental exposure of his fearsome teeth and carefully placed his mouth over the entirety of her, sucking her experimentally as his tongue lapped insistently for the channel betwixt her nether lips.
As the warm, wet sensations campaigned for free-reign over her, she rallied the faded memories of intrusive aunts passing along their judgmental marriage advice. With a deep breath she braced her hands on his head, there would be other times for this, they would have the rest of their lives together to ...explore. Although, petting her hands over the silken fur on his dome and running her palms over his velveteen ears before taking him by the horns to lead him further was the most gratifying thought she had ever had about a man.
She gave a gentle but resolute push. “Beast,” her voice was not near as level as she had intended.
Beast growled amiably and tilted his head to accommodate her hands, only to bring his mouth to the inseam of her petticoats, gripping it between his teeth and tugging sharply, his adoring gaze locked on her face. New moons set in day-blue skies. It seemed the Belle's second of hesitation as she took them in was all the permission Beast needed to rip his way to true contact. Belle gasped as the rough nap of his tongue rasped across her entrance and lit her with lightening when it swiped quickly over her clitoris. Beast rumbled with drowsy pleasure at her response and the concentrated taste of her on his tongue. Her hands had gone into a clutch. It almost felt as though she had the wind knocked from her. But then the second swipe came and all she could do was open herself for him and groan long and loud at how good it was.
Beast easily lifted her legs to rest over his broad shoulders. Then he leaned to drink more deeply. Using the force of his jaw and neck to increase the pressure of his tongue on her. But to his surprise, his tongue was blocked by her pale hand cupping her sex. Her knees hugged the side of his head. “Not so ha-,” Belle stopped with a shudder, then in a whisper. “Not yet.”
There was a pause in his movements. He lifted his head from the grasp of her knees, pulling her dress just short of his soft kiss on her inner knee before covering the warm spot. As if exhausted by the effort, Beast slumped forward, laying his cheek on her lap. Careful of his horns, even now, he sighed deeply and contentedly as he ran his hands over the cloth of her dress.
“You can have this too Belle.” he pressed his face into her lap and breathed deeply, his huge hands traced the curves of her upper thighs.
“I want you to have this. ...If you want it.”
“I do” her hands rested lightly on his cheek and the dome of his head. “I just... It's all new, I guess I'm nervous.” She gave a soft half smile, petting his head peacefully despite the heat between her legs.
“I feel like, on our wedding night” Belle paused to search for the words, “It'll feel right, like I'm doing the right thing.”
Beast exhaled deeply. He had always heard peasants enjoyed healthy sex lives, but Belle was bound to be different in that respect as she was in so many others. He closed his eyes and saw her pale, shapely legs angled open for him and nuzzled her legs at the thought, releasing another hot breath on the folds of her dress. Her hand stroked his ear in her loose grip, and she sighed softly.
“Do you want to go back to the castle?” He asked, raising his face to look at her. She smiled to see his still large pupils.
Belle nodded, and as Beast rose from his kneeling position she saw his tongue tracing his lips. It sent an odd pulse through her to see the proof of what he had tried, and to feel her wet thighs rubbing against one another where her petticoats had been torn. Beast looked back to her once she had stood, his hand wiping at his beard and the surrounding areas of his mouth.
“I can still taste you.” He murmured in a rumbling tone. He looked down to his hand, and though he could see nothing, fought the urge to lick his palm. Pulling his purple cloak around him, he saw the Belle was red-faced and looking uncomfortable.
Belle looked down, laughing softly. Struggling not to ask him what she tasted like, she went to stand beside him. Beast was quick to open his cloak for her to share his warmth, and Belle couldn't help a final glance at his groin as she went to lean against him. The massive bulge had definitely diminished somewhat, but the wet cloth clung to him. Belle felt the pang of her own unfulfilled need at the sight and pressed her face into his side, nuzzling him.
They stood close to the door but had not moved. Belle looked to his face to find him staring at her, his expression full of adoration. One clawed finger tenderly traced her cheek and went to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She noted that this was the longest she had ever seen his pupils stay so large and wondered if the rest of the castle would notice.
Belle took his hand in hers and kissed it.
“Are you uncomfortable?” she asked softly.
“No,” Beast replied, he had the fierce need to kiss her but restrained himself rather than risk her distaste. “Are you?”
Belle shook her head, extending an arm across his back and just managing to rest it on his waist.
“Let's go,” she stated, fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt.
Beast nodded and opened the door to the greenhouse a blast of cold wind welcomed them back outdoors, and they huddled closely together beneath the large purple cloak as they made a hasty retreat back to their home.
Seeing no one on their entrance into the castle, Beast took a moment to shake himself free of the accumulated snowflakes that had gathered on his head and neck, just as soon as Belle had stepped clear of course. Giggling at his antics, Belle waited until he had wrapped his cloak back around himself before suggesting they both change into fresh attire. They agreed, but as Belle climbed the stairs, she hoped she would run into one of the servants on the way to her room so she could ask for a warm bath to be made.
Beast watched her as she climbed the stairs, it felt wrong to let her go to a separate room, especially when he had such a strong yearning to be near her swelling in his chest. Finally Beast tore his eyes away from her shifting backside and began to climb the stairs himself. Halfway up he breathed in deeply through his nose for one last whiff of Belle's fresh arousal and was met with the disconcerting scent of every person who lived in the castle.
He huffed through his nose to try and clear it, but with minimal success. Chamberpots, sweat, sex and frustration blanketed his sense of smell. He was still adjusting to Belle's solitary scent being crowded in with the other human bodies now present in the castle. Beast continued to climb the stairs as he shook his head and grunted. His mind drifted easily back to the warm memory in the cold garden, although his stomach tightened to remember Belle looking at his sex so directly.
Once he reached his room he walked hesitantly to a broken mirror, inspecting himself for what she might have seen. In it's resting state, he thought it looked ambiguous at best. He ran a hand over the wet spot and grimaced at the tacky sensation. He stepped away from the mirror and removed his pants, scanning his room for a bowl of water and a cloth to cleanse himself with.
Thanks for reading. I hope you all enjoyed it!
- Current Location:Living Room
- Current Mood: giddy
- Current Music:America's Got Talent
I just had to share. Wasn't sure if the BatB community would approve though, so I just posted it on mine.
Chapter eight is almost finished!
- Current Mood: amused
The fanart that was promised.
It's not finished, but I was hoping for a volunteer to color it once I am. I'm an amateur at digital coloring and it shows, but I'd love to see what others can do.
As for the fanfiction, chapter 8 is coming along, but not nearly as fast as I thought it would. The next chapter has to have the right touch if I'm going to pull it off the way I want to, and I think that might be intimidating me a bit. I was trying to think of ways to make these waits less long and harsh for the readers. I thought rather than posting these six page monsters every few months I could post a few paragraphs whenever they dribble out. But at this rate it'd be an average of about a sentence a week. There'd be too many tiny segments for it to be coherent.
I need to come out about this, I have A.D.D. and it's hard for me to do schedules. The only thing that makes typing interesting enough for me to bother is when the perfect scene with all the perfect dialog falls right into my creative-writing lap and that's the night (and usually into the morning) that four pages gets tapped into post-able existence, collaborated with various dribbles, edited, and sent to my Beta (the glorious TrudiRose).
I am so touched and flabergasted that my first fanfic gets so much wonderful praise, but I feel bad for my readers. I get comments from people who see the months it's been since I've updated and ask me if I'm going to finish. Yes, I will, I'm determined to. This is probably the only long term goal I've ever really committed to, but I mean it. I'm nearing the end of things, my random projection has been ten total chapters, and I think that'll probably do.
Yeah, long update, my brand of ADD makes me talk a lot (all the details are important, ALL of them) but the beautiful thing about this process (writing the fic) is how wonderful it is to read the comments of people who also think that the details are important, and really enjoy my writing because of it. It's let me look at my writing skills as a really big positive about myself, and what I can contribute to all of the fandoms I love.
I wish I could give all the lurkers out there what's been given to me, I bet there's a whole world of challenged artists that have so much to give but doubt their ability to put it out there or fear rejection. Only the welcoming people who inhabit livejournal and the fandom communities could have possibly coaxed me out of my shadowy (internet) shell.
In a word: Thanks.
- Current Location:Bed
- Current Music:oscillating fan
Took me a while to get back on the horse with my new laptop. I have art for you though, art for this fanfiction. I'll post it later.
Thank you TrudiRose!
A Moment Echoes: Chapter 7
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- Current Location:Home
- Current Mood: accomplished
- Current Music:flying, Livid Kittens
I was halfway through chapter seven, and had taken a little break at an old image board I used to frequent. Little did I know, that as I peacefully clicked around indulging in eye candy, my computer was being accosted by malicious viruses unlike any I had met before.
I tend to get viruses, I have had a lot of them, and I've always eventually figured out how to fix it myself, (SuperAntiSpyware=<3). But this time, there was nothing I could do, and Sally, my darling laptop of four years, paid the full price for my recklessness. I took my laptop to the computer doctor as a last result, and was informed that he would save as much as he could from my hard drive. But nothing could be done to return my laptop to functionality.
So, I have yet to see what has been saved, and I'm hoping that my writings were salvaged. I'm still about two months away from having saved up enough for a new laptop. (I'm just drooling over those dual-processor models. itunes, Photoshop, and Microsoft Word all open at the same time, without lag? 8D) Till then, I have started writing new ideas down on paper, and I've had plenty!
There is so much more still to come, yummy, romantic, hurt/comfort love scenes begging to be written, intrigue, drama, and angst pushing to be posted. I just have to get my new laptop first!
Thanks for all the reveiws and love everybody, I couldn't have come this far without you. :)
I'm going to be cutting back on the extra-advanced classes I've been taking lately, they're rough and pointless now that I'm set on doing community college for two years. I liked the challenge, and I'm keeping Dual Credit Writing, but everything else is either being dropped or taken down a notch.
This means my free-time (and stress level) will both be improving soon. Yay! I'll be writing more often.
(I think I butchered Announcement. Is that even close to how it is spelled?)