What have I done? I stare into the wild eyes of the man above me, feel the sting of his wound upon my neck. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps I should have more carefully considered what this arrangement would mean.
He releases me and I slump against the door, struggling to catch my breath. I watch him pace back and forth before the fire. Agitation rolls off him in waves. He runs his hands through his long hair, but I cannot determine the color. I am struck again by the oddity of his appearance. He is tall and muscular, with the bearing of a predator, yet I am unable to make out the shape of his features. Is he young or old? The tone of his voice has the commanding presence of an officer, but his temper is that of a boy. A new thought strikes me. "What is your name?" My voice is soft, but it echoes through the marbled room.
He does not stop pacing to look at me. "What difference does it make?"
"If I am to be your…" I can't bring myself to put a name to our relationship, if it can even be called that. "It would be simpler to know how to address you," I say at last.
He considers for a moment, pacing in long strides. Just when I think he has decided not to answer at all, he growls, "Call me Beast."
I bring myself to stand, considering this moniker. It surely fits him, for he seems more monster than man. Slowly, cautiously, I make my way toward him. He glares at me, and his icy stare freezes me in place. His eyes travel along my form, taking in every detail, lingering on every curve. I will not be ashamed. I force my hands to remain at my sides, my eyes to stay trained on his. I will not cower before him.
"Lumiere!" he bellows. The force of his scream nearly knocks me back, but I hold my ground.
The door opens and Lumiere dashes into the room. "Ah, mademoiselle and monsieur. Getting along, are we?" Beast huffs and I stare at Lumiere uncertainly. How can he remain so lighthearted in the face of this man made of darkness?
Beast turns to Lumiere and I nearly collapse with the freedom from his piercing stare. "Have the rooms adjoining my suite drawn up. Belle will be staying the night."
"Right away, monsieur!" Lumier cries happily.
"No!" I cry out. Beast turns to me with eyes full of rage. "Please. I need to get back to my father. I have only until tomorrow to pay his debts before he will be jailed."
Beast releases an angry cry. "You should have thought of that before entering into this agreement." He stalks toward me, towers in front of me. "You belong to me, and I do not share what is mine. End of story."
I tilt my face up to stare back into his. I show him the rage in my own eyes. "Our agreement is contingent upon my father's life. If you let him die, I will not be yours at all."
"S'il vous plait," Lumiere interjects. "Let us come to a compromise. Tonight, the mademoiselle will stay here and enjoy a warm supper. In the morning, I will accompany her to the village to ensure this matter is settled." He glances between the two of us still locked in a battle of wills. "That suits everyone, non?"
Beast pushes closer still. I am lost in the gravity of his eyes and cannot look away. "I will expect you in my rooms after supper." His voice drops another octave, his words ensnaring my soul. "You will not disobey me." With a final withering stare, he marches past us and exits the room.
It takes several moments for my heartbeat to decelerate and my fingers to unclench. Lumiere offers a patient smile. "Come, mon cherie, let me introduce you to some real hospitality."
The imprint of Beast's darkness lingers on my skin, but it is impossible not to grin when Lumiere shines the glow of his smile upon me. "A hot meal sounds wonderful right now."
Lumiere brightens at this, taking my arm in his. He pats my hand and leads me from the room. "I will let you in on a little known secret."
My curiosity is piqued. "Oh?"
"In all of France, you will find no food more delicious than here in our kitchen."
I chuckle. His hospitality is almost enough to combat the menacing plates of armor and weaponry lining the walls. "So, this place…" I begin. Lumiere smiles kindly, but does not take the bait. I try again to elicit more information. "Has he always been so secluded?"
Lumiere stops me and takes my hands in his. "Pardon, mademoiselle. I am afraid I am not at liberty to discuss the master, or the particulars of this manor." He is gazing at me intently, as though he hopes I will never forget his words. "That is something for you to discover on your own."
Before I can press him on this, a heavenly scent wafts to us from down the hall. The responding grumble from my stomach earns me a laugh. "Come, we are just in time for dinner."
When we enter the kitchen, it is a lively, bustling bubble of happy chaos in this manor otherwise devoid of life. Pots of soup boil on a stovetop, trays of meats and breads are pulled from ovens, and every manner of vegetable is being chopped and moved about the kitchen. This jolly frenzy is a welcome change of pace, and I feel my spirits rising. Lumiere drags me into the center of the madness and silences the room with a loud whistle.
"Madames and monsieurs, I present our honored guest this evening, Mademoiselle Belle." A cheer goes up through the staff, and Lumiere twirls me, then drops me into a dramatic dip. I laugh, and can't help but return the grins on the happy faces around me.
A man steps forward from the crowd. He is dressed in a blue waistcoat and has close-cropped brown hair. He dips into a bow before introducing himself. "Good evening, madam. I am Cogsworth, the master's personal valet." He extends his arm. "If you will follow me this way, I shall lead you into the main dining area." His posture is impossibly straight, every step a march. I sneak a look back at Lumiere and he offers me a knowing grin.
True to Lumiere's word, the dinner is divine. Course after course is delivered, each more decadent than the last. The waitstaff are the epitome of courtesy and add extra flourishes to the presentation of each dish. "We don't get many guests," Lumiere offers in explanation. I smile and force myself to try more courses than I have room for. This moment is too good to last, and I intend to savor every second.
Yet as the final dishes are cleared and the kitchen quiets, I feel my limbs turning to lead. I am expected in Beast's chambers. He says I belong to him. How does a man made of shadow treat his possessions? I am not ready to face him. "Cogsworth, do you know much about the history of this estate?"
His perfect posture straightens impossibly more. "I dare say, madam, that in addition to being a valet, I pride myself on being the most proficient historian on this residence's resplendent history."
"Ah, mademoiselle," Lumiere attempts to interject.
I focus my attention solely on Cogsworth. "Would you do me the pleasure of showing me around the estate? I have not yet been given a tour."
"Belle." Lumiere's voice is a warning. He knows my intentions.
"Hmph." Cogsworth gives his companion a sniveling look. "My deepest apologies that this courtesy was not immediately shown to you upon your arrival. It would be my greatest honor and deepest pleasure to escort you. Please." He offers me his arm and we leave the room. I can sense Lumiere's eyes burning into my back, but he allows me to walk away. For that kindness, I am grateful.
I pay little attention to what Cogsworth tells me as we stroll, unable to escape the dread of what awaits. I have bought myself time, yet my fate is inevitable. I try to focus on my surroundings, but one hallway looks like another, and each is an unending maze of dark stone and marble. A jail, I think. Or a tomb. The gravity of what I have done is beginning to weigh heavier on me. I am never to leave these walls again. Tomorrow's journey may be the last time I see my village again. The last time I see my father. A small sob escapes me.
"Madam?" Cogsworth looks perplexed. "I apologize if my opinions on Greco-Roman inspired architecture have offended…"
A second sob escapes me, then another. I collapse against the wall, burying my face in my arms. I hear Cogsworth fretting, but can't bring myself to look at him. What a fool I have been. What use is trading my life for my father's if I will never see him again? I am all he has left in the world. If he is alone, he's as good as dead.
Silence falls over the hall. Silence so deafening that I can no longer hear my own tears. I sense him before I see him. There is a cold that trails around his presence, tendrils of night and shadow that wrap around me before his arms do. I am pulled tight to his chest, lifted effortlessly. The sobs wracking my body subside, but it is from the force of my own will, not from any kindness he shows. There is no affection in this embrace. I am merely a lost object being returned to the shelf on which it belongs. His plaything that has wandered too far and must be reigned in.
We enter his chambers and I am deposited on the bed. He paces angrily toward the window. I focus my attention on the black silk sheets, the marble floor, the dark oak armoire. Anywhere that is not the mounting tidal wave of rage emanating from the man at the window.
"You did not come." He is pushing the words out from behind clenched teeth. I don't need to look to know he is gripping the windowsill with near enough force to shatter the stone.
"I was taking a tour." It is not an apology.
"You defied my orders." His tone is rising.
I turn to him now, my anger rising to meet his own. "You did not expressly forbid it."
He faces me. "I do not need to expressly forbid anything." He is stalking closer. "You belong to me. You may do exactly what I command and nothing else." He leans above me now, his presence blocking my entire field of vision. I refuse to flinch. If he wants the satisfaction of seeing me cowed, I will deny it at every opportunity. I stare back into Beast's face, temper flaring. His lack of discernible features is no less disorienting, but his eyes pin me in place just as before. I am trapped under his gaze. My heart begins to race. I cannot discern what new emotion is growing in his stare, but it comes with a sense of foreboding.
Beast takes my chin in his fingertips and pulls me within inches of his face. "I will teach you a lesson in obedience." His words are a dark promise that makes my breath catch in my throat. He pulls me flush against his torso until I am painfully aware of every hard line in his body. His hand draws upwards along my spine until it fists in the hair at the nape of the neck. I release a soft cry as he pulls my head backward, exposing the column of my throat. He licks over the mark he left before as though savoring his brand. His teeth graze my ear and he releases his words in a harsh whisper. "You are not to move or speak unless I command you to do so. Do you understand?"
I fight to remain calm. His hold on me has my mind racing in several directions at once and it is a struggle to compose my thoughts. Beyond all else, I know that I must not show my fear even for an instant. I take a steadying breath before responding to ensure my voice does not betray my panic. "Yes. I understand."
He traces his lips along my jaw - a hunter taunting its prey. "Have you been touched by a man before?"
My chest tightens, but I do not lose my resolve. I train my eyes on the chandelier above us, trying to force out the feeling of his skin brushing against mine. "Yes." My voice is only a whisper, but it is enough.
Beast lets out a growl befitting his name. He thumbs over his mark on my neck, no doubt relishing his ownership of me. His hand skims over the hollow of my throat and along the tender flesh of my neck. "Has he touched you here?"
"Yes." The words are more of a struggle now.
He gives a quick tug of the fist in my hair, angling my chin even further to give him complete access to the skin above the neckline of my dress. His kiss devours my flesh. Lips, teeth, and tongue sear, bite, and soothe in a line of fire blazing across my skin. His attack leaves me breathless, intoxicated. I feel my resistance slipping and am fighting for what little I have left. He releases me and I stagger, chest heaving, mind spinning. His impossibly blue eyes take in every detail, fully aware of the effect he is having on me.
Beast backs away, but I am not foolish enough to think he is done with me. He moves around me then, a panther circling its prey before delivering the final blow. He steps behind me in a haze of shadow before roughly grabbing my hips to pull me flush against him once more. I can feel a growing hardness pressed against my backside and an involuntary wave of heat flashes through me. I am terrified, and yet strangely thrilled. As if sensing my unspoken desires, his hands trail down from my shoulders in an achingly slow movement to the top of my bodice. My chest is rising and falling heavily with every breath and a shiver of anticipation courses through me. "Has he touched you here?" Beast demands in a deafening whisper.
The words feel caught in my throat, but I dare not let this silence grow. "Yes."
With an angry moan, he rips my bodice open, exposing my breasts. Under his gaze, they are heavy with need, nipples pebbled in a betrayal of my hidden arousal. Beast paws them roughly, kneading and squeezing in a way that draws a moan from my lips. He touches me as though he would consume me. Touches me like the ever ravenous predator lurking beneath his cover of darkness. I cannot help but give in. I lean against him and revel in the sensation of his insatiable touch. He flexes his hips and I feel the pressure of his full erection grinding against me. There is a rush of wetness in my core and I cry out loudly. His lips are at my neck, his fingers pinching my nipples in painful ecstasy. At last it is too much; I cannot stay still. I reach my arms to his head, threading my fingers through his hair, tracing the cool line of his skin from temple to jaw. He nips my flesh and I scream his name.
He stills, and the moment is broken. In one swift motion my hands are pinioned between us and his fingers clench around my jaw. "I did not command you to speak." His words are ice dripping down my spine. "You disobeyed me. I will show you what happens when you disobey me." I cannot keep up with his change in mood. My body is still aching for his touch as he forces me to my knees before him. He frees himself and moves his hand along his hardness in long strokes, his eyes raking over my full breasts. Those brilliant blue eyes are tinged with darkness, heavy with lust. "You belong to me. Your body is mine to use as I see fit." I am at once enraptured and terrified. His free hand grabs my jaw once more and he traces his thumb across my lips. "I am going to claim your mouth." He presses his thumb inside of me. "Suck," he commands. I do as I am bid and find a strange flush of heat spreading through me at obeying his order. Beast moans appreciatively, then slowly withdraws his digit.
Beast slides his fingers to the back of my head and forces me nearer his member already glistening with need. His eyes lock on mine and I am utterly lost in him. "Pleasure me, Belle. Take my cock in your mouth." The look he gives me leaves me aching with with desire. I am reduced to feelings of need. The need to obey him. The need to feel his lips clamping around my hardened nipples. The need to have him fill the sweet void between my thighs. Beast will wait no more, and forces himself into my mouth. I groan at the velvety texture of him and greedily lick the slick juices from his head. "Deeper," he commands. His fingers tangle in my hair as I slide my lips further toward his base, taking inch after inch. He growls when his cock brushes the back of my throat. "Take me all the way." His words are strained, as though he is barely holding back. I relax my throat and let him slide deeper until my lips sink around the base of his shaft. He moans loudly and I feel another burst of wetness at my core. Both of his hands grip me hard and pull me to him. "Stay still," he growls. He begins moving his hips, slowly drawing himself outward then pushing deeper. His tempo increases gradually, and I can barely breathe. He grunts as he moves faster and faster, loud, primal noises that set every nerve ending in my body on fire. He is pumping into me wildly now, using my warm throat to take his pleasure. Suddenly, I feel him tense and he pulls himself out of my mouth in a motion that leaves me gasping. One pump of his hand, two, then he is coming, spraying streams of his seed across my aching, exposed breasts.
Before I can process the waves of emotion roiling through me, Beast hauls me to my feet and forces me before the mirror. He is behind me, a deeper shadow against the surrounding darkness. "Look at yourself," he growls, and I do. I do not recognize myself. Staring back at me in the mirror is not a woman, but a wild animal. Hair mussed, eyes wild and darting, chest heaving, and breasts exposed through a ripped dress, covered in the evidence of what I have done. The figure in the mirror is wanton, wild, insatiable. Surely I am none of those things. Yet strangely, I enjoy seeing myself this way. This reflection is like a window into a hidden door in my soul, a secret part of me only Beast has released. "You are beautiful," he purrs at my ear. "And you are mine." His hands find my breasts again and my desire soars to new heights. The thrill of watching him squeeze and toy with my heavy mounds is unlike any I have known before. I am whimpering in his arms, a match ready to ignite with just a single stroke of pleasure between my tender lips. "Tell me what you want, Belle."
A command. I must obey. I feel that I am going mad with need, but manage to find the words. "Please," I gasp. "Please, Beast. I need release." He locks eyes with me in the mirror as he pinches my nipples and I mewl loudly. "I want to come," I beg. I don't even care that I am begging, so great is my need. In this moment, I will do anything for the satisfaction of relief.
"No." His hands are suddenly at my throat, my waist, pressing me against him too tightly for me to move. "Your pleasure belongs to me." His eyes hungrily comb over my form. "Do you see what I can turn you into? See how wild I can make you?" He locks eyes with me again and it is more forceful than his arms around me. "You have disobeyed me. When you defy me, I will leave you wanting, or better yet, find other, more forceful forms of punishment." There is a wicked gleam in his eyes and I am terrified of what his words might mean. "You are not to touch yourself or take any other means to relieve your desire. I can have you any time and any way that I want, and you will wait for your release until I command you to let go. Do you understand?"
I cannot speak for the welling of tears keeping my throat closed. Somehow this denial feels more painful than any physical punishment he could have administered. I refuse to let him see tears building and nod quickly to show his message is received. With a wicked grin, he releases me and I stumble forward against the glass. I attempt to gather the scraps of fabric around my chest and bite my tongue to keep the tears at bay for just a few more moments.
"Your rooms are through there." He motions to a door opposite from where we entered. "Do not leave your quarters tonight."
I nod again and walk swiftly to the door. I cannot bear to look back, do not wish to see what cruelty lies within those eyes that have ensnared me so.
Within my rooms, I locate the bathing chamber and run a bath so hot it scalds my skin. It is not until I have scrubbed every bit of him from my body that I finally let the tears fall. I cry for my foolishness, for the wave of emotions I cannot begin to name, and for the sudden turn my life has taken in a single day. How could I have dreamed that when I kissed Papa goodbye this morning that I would spend my night in a cold, unforgiving place with a master whose soul is darker than his surroundings? A man who has already imprinted his darkness upon me and threatens to devour my being. I am not aware of how long I lie in the tub, but by the time I am ready to leave, the water has long since run cold.
The wardrobe in my bedchamber is full of gowns for every occasion, in every style and every color. I briefly wonder who these belonged to, but find that I am too tired to give it much thought. I simply choose a dressing gown and make my way to the bed. I feel exhausted in my very bones and am grateful for the soft down mattress awaiting me. Too tired for any more thought or worry, I gladly let the weight of sleep pull me under.
I wake disoriented and groggy. It is not yet dawn, for the windows of my room reveal that the sky is still pitch black. I wonder why I have awoken when I feel it: a cold so deep that it slices through my bones. I clutch the blankets around me, but they make no difference. This is the kind of cold that freezes the heart and tears apart the soul.
An agonizing cry reaches me from the adjoining room.
I hold still, barely breathing as I strain to hear it again. The silence stretches and I wonder if I could have imagined it. I am starting to convince myself to return to sleep when it sounds again, louder. It is a cry of anguish, the sound made from the strike of a fatal blow or the ripping of a soul from one's body.
I am out of bed and running before I fully understand what I am doing. "Beast!" I shout. Moving to the door is like trudging through water. Each motion feels slow, heavy, and the door seems barely closer no matter how much I struggle. I am in a nightmare from which I cannot wake.
The cry comes again, this time inhumanly loud. It is earsplitting and earth-shattering, the final cry before one's being is annihilated from existence.
I struggle for the door with more desperation, panic beginning to take hold. "Beast!" I cry again, and again.
There is no response. There is only deafening silence that stretches on endlessly.
A/N: And we're off to a wild ride! I sincerely hope that you have enjoyed this chapter and look forward to continuing the story. My goal is to post chapters weekly, so please stay tuned.