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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ELLE

The feel of the beast’s body against mine is a heady one. Being held in his arms is no less so, and I feel a wave of what is almost like dizziness but more powerful as he walks down the stairs. Lust blinds me. Not the blindfold. Without my vision, I take note of every sound and every feeling. The strength of his arms around my body is like nothing I have ever felt…

Save for once.

The beast is muscled in a corded way I would only expect from a fearsome animal, but he has the shape of a man. I suppose this is what happens when a prince is sacrificed to a beast.

And it is almost as if the form of a man has been perfected in the beast’s body. I wonder if this was done by the magic of the curse and the sacrifice as well. There is so much magic all around that I cave to it. The magic always extended beyond the wall, but in this place there is far more of it, and it is far more palpable. It’s gentle yet intoxicating, much like the beast.

There are some parts of it that I cannot seem to shake off, although I do not want to. Being surrounded by magic is better than being surrounded by fear. I will accept the fine furnishings and the feeling of safety even if it is coupled with an intense desire that I am not sure is entirely my own.

We reach the bottom of the stairs. The sound of the beast’s footsteps change on the floor. Heavier, more foreboding even. We must now be in a larger hallway or a longer space. I try to listen harder, but my attention is divided between the solid, warm sensation of his body against mine and the sound of his footsteps. They mingle together in my mind until neither one is clear and both are hidden by the beat of his heart.

I do not know.

He turns, his hips shifting subtly under mine and his footsteps making a new sound on the floor. The air shifts once again. Whatever room we’re in must be very large.

Then he bends to lower me to the floor, and instinctively I grip his muscular arms and then catch myself, releasing my hold on him and grateful he does not respond. My heart beats faster, and I swallow thickly at the change in position.

He holds me by the waist until I am balanced on the comfortable slippers once more. I still under his touch, understanding that he does not want me to remove the blindfold. It follows that he probably does not want me to move beyond his reach until he gives me some sign or command.

The beast held me gently on the way downstairs, and he does not touch me roughly now. His fingers trace a path up my spine to the nape of my neck and linger there for a few moments. Goosebumps gather in the wake of his touch. Once again, I’m trapped with the constant thoughts of lust.

To my surprise, he works at the tie of the blindfold, loosening it until it falls away from my eyes. The silky cloth drapes over my shoulder and hangs there for a few moments until I understand that he wants me to take it.

I do, twisting it between my hands. He could use it to tie me, I suppose, but he hasn’t done so yet. Adrenaline rages inside of me. My breathing comes in short gasps.

His hands move to the sides of my face with a similar gentle pressure. The lightest press at my cheeks tells me that I am not to turn around, so I don’t.

I only realize that I have kept my eyes closed all this time when his footsteps retreat, growing quieter as he moves to another part of the room.

Then there is a silence that lasts for several beats. My breathing is loud in this quiet space, but when I allow it to quiet, I can hear another sound. It is impossible for me to identify what it is without opening my eyes. As I am still in the darkness behind my shut eyes, I’m still attuned to his presence. He has not gone far, and a few moments of listening tells me he is somewhere behind me, his breathing only slightly labored by our long moments of closeness upstairs.

When it’s quiet for far too long, I dare to open my eyes.

It takes a few blinks to adjust to the moonlight streaming in through large windows along one wall. I can see fairly well in that light, although the ballroom is lit by fires in large grates across from the windows.

Awe overwhelms me.

I have not seen windows this tall or fireplaces this wide in any other building, and I marvel at the pearly light mixing with the firelight. It’s a large room and a grand one at that. Intricate paintings and gold spirals decorate the vaulted ceilings, though I will need more light to see all of their details. I imagine lying on my back on the ballroom floor in the afternoon light, staring at the paintings for hours until I’d memorized every inch of them. They’re beautiful.


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