A Beast’s Gentle Touch - 9 (UNEDITED DRAFT)



He buried his face in her fragrant hair and pulled her tighter against him. The peaking sun told him that they were sleep for some portion of time. He could hear her heavy breathing deep with exhaustion.

He did that.

He wasn’t sure why he was so proud of herself, but it was really her doing.

After she didn’t get the fulfillment she wanted the other morning he was determined to give her more than she’d ever want; yet, hours later he still wasn’t done with her.

His hand formed to her breast and pressed his hips against her ass.

She moaned and leaned her hips back against him. He stroked her up hip and trailed his finger over the curve there then back up.

“Steven,” she whined.

“Hmm?” He nuzzled his face in her neck pulling her closer while the hand stroking her hip wrapped around her middle and ventured between her legs. He moaned into her neck when he found her still wet, and waiting.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Put it in.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Put what in where?”

She raised an eyebrow but the mischief stayed in the depths of her hazel eyes. “If I have to tell you then never mind.”

His smirk turned into a smile. Always had something to say. He felt behind him to the nightstand and retrieved a wrapper. Somehow managed with one hand to sheath himself before spreading her from behind and sliding into her heat.

He moved her leg over his thigh to open her up for a deep stroke. He bit his bottom lip. Felt so good. The sun was slowing filling more of the space and he was filling her with stronger, longer more purposeful strokes. He rubbed her clit in steady strokes living her moaning whimpers.

He was racing it felt like before the sun ruined everything. Before the next day took it all away.

There’d be a week at least before they’d be reunited for the final ball. He grabbed her jaw and turned her back enough to claim her mouth.

She sighed into his kiss and reached back to clasp the back of his head.

Peculiar the feeling. The desperate feeling of not wanting her to be gone.

She pushed him on his back and straddled him crouching over him her feet flat on the bed.

She took over the controls pulling her weight up and down his length using him to draw the pleasure from its hiding place somewhere deep in the pits of her being.

He was okay with that. Wanted it even. Wanted to be used. Used by this woman for her own carnal desires.

He cupped her ass and started thrusting up toward her.

She let out several cries into the open quiet space and it seemed to hover there in the bright resounding yellow of the sun.



She collapsed. Literally fell over on her side like a boxer whose face met their opponent's glove. He laughed out loud, but pulled her into his side instead of saying something to get him in trouble. It wasn’t like she’d be able to protest any nonsense he’d come up with, not at that moment any way.  She managed to lay a heavy arm over his stomach while his fingers wrapped around the spiral loops that made up her curls.

The quiet and the mesmerizing feel of his fingers in her hair had her drift somewhere between awake and sleep.

She was uncertain how so much confusion could find a place like she had in that moment. The most unlikely of people to hold such kindness it didn’t seem real. What was real was her sister. She had so much work to do to raise money for her procedure. A procedure that could do nothing, or could give them both everything. How could she ever overcome the guilt? Assuming it all worked out, how could she ever look the little girl in the eyes and not be reminded of her own wretchedness?

“I gave up on her.”

There was a momentary pause in Steven’s fingers and their mindless twisting. “What do you mean?”

She set up. The weight of her exhaustion pushed aside for a fleeting moment. “My sister.” She found his dark eyes. “I was supposed to be her champion, her knight and I gave up on her.”

He moved a few curls out her face with his fingertips. “That’s why fairytales have it all wrong.”

She frowned and her head tilted slightly. He smiled the sun catching some of the browns in his iris.

“Pray shine some light on the subject then.”

“Heroes aren’t heroes because they did everything perfect. They are because despite their imperfections they, somehow, saved the day.” He cupped her cheek and she nestled into his palm before finding his eyes again. His thumb grazed over her bottom lip and they parted. He pulled and she succumbed to the kiss that awaited her lips at the end of their journey to him below her.

She straddled him and ground her bare sex on his.

He moaned. “I thought you’d want to rest a bit more.”

She set up stroking his chest taking in the fair skin under her tanned palms. She shrugged. “Flight doesn’t leave until the evening.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I like this line of thinking. Suppose we do have to make up for the entire week we’ll be apart.” She moaned when she felt him rising under her.

“A week?”

“Mhm,” he responded sitting up and sucking a nipple into his mouth. She arched toward him with a moan. His hands slid around her hips and slipped up to her waist, and back.

A thought she never thought was possible to cross her mind did in that euphoric moment under the persistent pleasure of the man’s tongue and hands.

A week.

It seemed a terrible for lurking in the shadows threatening to take away her new found bliss.



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