The Beast & His Beauty Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal, Virgin Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 74631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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There is no sense in thinking how things might have gone, because the curse is within me and has been for so long that I despair of ever getting it out.

But I do think of it. I do think of all the many ways I might have found her and wooed her and perhaps even spirited her away. And what I find when I let my mind linger on them is a very similar ending to this one.

It may be that I was always the sort of man who would take a woman this way.

I push that thought out of my mind. With the beast under control, I’m too eager to soak in Elle’s presence at this moment, which has grown longer in spite of how time ticks endlessly on. Every year has seemed like a century since I was cursed, and for the first time since that day, I do not mind the way this pause in the hallway seems to stretch out.

I want to slide one hand from her hip to the front of her body, but I force myself to wait until I’m sure I am steady and the beast is quiet before I inch my hand forward to the front of her hip. She is delicate here, too, and sensitive. She gasps, her gorgeous lips part, but she does not object.

An unsolicited groan escapes me, and I do not know if it came from the beast or me as my cock hardens, wanting and needing more of her. Of those sweet gasps.

I allow myself another inch, my fingertips meeting the softness of her belly over the hard line of her hips. Elle takes shallow breaths, her pulse racing underneath her skin. I can hear her heart beating as well, as loudly as if it were in my own body. I can hear her dress moving over her body as my hand changes the way the fabric hangs. I can even hear the way her feet meet the floor, not quite steady, but not quite unsteady either.

I do not trust myself to speak. I have determined that Elle must see the castle and agree to stay before she can see me, and to speak aloud would expose more of me than she is possibly ready to witness. I cannot risk going against my plan, though I want to murmur words into her ear. I want to give her an answer to her plea.

I move my hand another few inches until my entire palm is against her belly. The muscles flutter as she breathes, waiting.

As I am waiting.

Though I do not know what I am waiting for. I am no longer waiting for the beast to lay his claim to Elle. I am waiting to know my own mind, but there is little to know when the urges of my body are so strong.

I crave her madly. It is in an animal way. I want to take her to the floor and push her dress up around her waist and have her quench both our thirsts, the beast and mine. I want to be buried inside her. I want to give her as much pleasure as her body can handle and help her to the ground.

If I stand here another moment, that is the course I will take and nothing will be able to stop me once I’ve started.

Before Elle can move again, I pull back, creating space between us, and lift her into my arms. It is an entirely different experience from carrying her while she was sleeping.

Elle’s hands lift as though to remove the blindfold. I gather her tighter in my arms in a silent command to stop.

Breathing fast, Elle freezes then lowers her hands.

What would I see if she had gone against my implicit orders and removed the blindfold? How would her eyes look? Would they be filled with fear or would they be dark with the desire I can scent all over her skin?

I think it would be desire, and it pulls me to her almost unbearably.

I do not lower my mouth to hers or walk her back toward the bedroom. I do not put her on the floor to have her here. I master my own body first, ignoring the surging need in my cock, and move through the threshold.

The tips of Elle’s slippered toes brush against the doorframe as we go, and then we are descending, Elle still and pliant in my arms. She does not fight me and does not seem to have any mind to. That could be her desire, or it could be the magic, or it could be both. I make no judgment. It is not the time to make a judgment. It is only time to move before the beast takes control again.

She stays that way, her scent filling my every breath, as I carry her downstairs to execute my plan without deviation.


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