CHAPTER TWELVE: FALLING
Maurice plowed through the woods for hours and his body was growing weaker with each passing moment. He didn't have any food or water and his mouth was dry, his belly empty. Parched and famished, he was certain he wouldn't survive another hour. What had he been thinking? It had been foolish to take off on his own, but the captain had made him so very angry. How dare he assume that getting into his good graces would earn him his daughter's hand in marriage?
Belle had often told Maurice of the vain, self-absorbed man that sought to woo and marry her. He would never give his daughter away to such a man. His Belle was worth so much more and deserved the best. He supposed every father felt that way about his daughter, but in his heart, he knew that it was true. Belle was so different from the ordinary small-town girl. She was strong-minded, intelligent, and had a caring heart. He had to find her. He had to rescue her before she fell victim to the monster that held her prisoner.
Why? Why had she taken his place? He would have gladly died in the dark dungeon of the Beast if it meant that she would be safe from harm.
He slowed his march as the bitter cold squeezed the breath from his lungs. He coughed tightly, the sound barely there as he tried to suck air through a straw. He could feel his throat constricting. He never had the best lungs. Right now he wished he had a warm bath to help open up his airways just long enough for him to trudge onward. He had to get to her. In fact, it was that very need which drove him on. The instinct to protect his child rose to the fore, more powerful than anything he had ever felt. It was nearly equal in measure to the love he had in his heart for her.
Pressing his palm against a nearby tree, Maurice leaned against it for respite. His knees were like jelly and his body throbbed from his hours of walking. The sun was beginning to rise and he knew he had to find shelter soon. He heaved again, another dry cough forcing its way through his chest. The edges of his vision became blurred and he found himself gasping for breath. The old man fell to his knees and slumped against the tree, the world around him spinning at one-hundred miles per minute.
Shivering, he pulled his cloak tighter around him, though it was already wet from snow and sweat. His fingernails were blue and his lips felt cold as ice. He closed his eyes, leaning against the tree and silently sending Belle an apology for having failed her. He was certain he wouldn't last. With a final, shuddering breath, he closed his eyes and submitted to the call of darkness.
Belle stood with her mouth agape and her hands wrapped around her torso. What had just happened? One minute she was leaping into the Beast's arms - her heart overflowing with the joy brought on by his thoughtful gift - and the next, she was soaring to the moon and back. She had allowed him to touch her most intimate part, and it had been nothing short of amazing.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she processed what had just taken place. She had never been touched there before. And the sensations he brought out in her were strange but wonderful. He had looked at her with so much heat in his eyes, and she couldn't bring herself to keep eye contact with him. And then he had run from her. Why had he run from her? She wanted to ask him what it was he had just done. She needed to understand - not just because it felt good and she wanted to experience it again, but also because it felt somehow forbidden.
Could a creature such as the Beast truly see her in such a way? He was an animal, after all. Was he not? The way he touched her, made her reach heights of pleasure she had never known to be possible, suggested he knew more about the human body than he let on. Specifically, the female body.
She had so many questions. Had he ever been with a woman before? A human woman? Or were there others like him? What had possessed him to touch her in such a frightening, delicious way? She gasped at her own thoughts. It was wrong! She was a virtuous young woman - completely untouched by man. Or at least she was before...but then, he wasn't a man, was he? Belle's eyes rolled shut as she remembered the way the pad of his finger rubbed along her wet heat. Without meaning to, she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down as she tried to relive the sensations he had set off inside her.
His thick finger had nudged at her tight entrance, and though the threat of pain had always been there, it had only heightened her pleasure. She was grateful he hadn't probed further. She wasn't sure she wanted her maiden's head broken by the Beast's finger - as skilled as his hands were.
She had been shocked, at first, when the Beast had lifted the skirt of her dress. She wanted to protest, but Prince Adam's voice rang in her mind, telling her to love the Beast. And so she had let him, and all the while she clung to him. Partly to keep herself distracted from what he was doing, and the other part to keep herself from floating to the moon and losing herself in the stars. Because it had felt that good. She swore she was going to faint from how intense it was.
She needed to regain her focus. Shaking off the aftereffects of her recent orgasm, Belle returned her attention to the magnificent room around her. She wandered through it, dragging her fingers along the bookcases and feeling the spine of each leather-bound treasure. They were all first editions! She could hardly believe her eyes. Occasionally, she would pick up a book that was unknown to her and sift through the pages. Before she knew it, she was lost in the sea of pages. She settled in front of a beautiful fireplace and curled up with a copy of Shakespeare's Sonnets.
Before long, she had fallen asleep on the carpet. She stirred when she felt strong arms lift her and cradle her to a hard, yet warm chest. She looked up and realized it was the Beast, silently carrying her away from the library and into the East Wing where her bedroom awaited her. She peeked up at him and brown eyes met blue. His sapphire gaze sparkled with lust and fire, but he remained silent. Her groin clenched when she recalled the pleasure he had brought to her. He stopped in front of her bedroom and set her down, shuffling to take a step backward and create some distance between them.
"You should rest," he gruffed, rustling his mane with a heavy paw. She regarded him for long moments, taking in every angle and curve of his powerful appearance. The structure of his face seemed more human to her today than it had when she had first laid eyes on him. Was it that she was seeing him for the first time, or did their recent encounter alter his appearance to her?
Belle nodded and offered him a tentative smile before turning into the bedroom and shutting the door behind her. She wanted nothing more than to feel his powerful hands on her again, but she refused to admit that even to herself. It was wrong. So wrong. He wasn't human. He couldn't possibly see her that way. So why did she secretly hope that he did?
Hi everyone! Sorry, this chapter was so short, we're back to the slow burn lol. I warned you this would happen! I know some of you were getting antsy so I gave you a little taste but now we must sit back and watch as things unfold between our two soon-to-be lovers! I'm pretty excited, and hope you guys are too! There are still so many things going on at once, and alas, we must revisit our other characters and get their side of things. Don't forget to follow, favorite, and review! Happy reading!
