Beastly Intentions Ch. 08

I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed this novel. It's always been one of my favorites. I have enjoyed hearing your comments and getting your emails.

Thanks so much.

Wendy Stone

Chapter Eight

Her scream echoed throughout the chamber, loud in the silence of the room. Brenna found herself held tightly to Garren's chest, his body convulsing against hers, his shoulders shaking almost as if he were sobbing. Slowly, her hands came up to hold him to her, stroking the soft hair of his head, rocking him against her as she would a child.

"What is it, Garren? What has you in such a state?" she asked him, her voice soft but with a hint of panic in its depths and a tremble of the fear she'd felt still shivering through her.

He raised his furry head from her shoulder, staring down into her beautiful face. "I...I love you so much," he whispered.

Brenna's smile was brilliant, her face lighting up to create such an aura of happiness it was hard for him to look at her. "And such feelings have you roaring and tearing apart the room?"

"No," he said, ducking his head and feeling the anger drain away as she held him close. "It was the thought of losing you, of never being able to love you the way I want to. I couldn't stop the rage."

"You never have to lose me, Garren. I want to be with you, I want to be yours. You know this." She held his face in her hands, her eyes gazing into his with a passion she hoped he could feel. She slid her naked body out from under the blankets that covered her, blushing as his eyes roamed over her smooth, slender curves. "Take me, Garren," she whispered, her eyes staring up into his. "Make me your own, body, heart and soul."

His growl startled her as did his sudden move, sweeping her into his arms, drawing her naked body against his own. His moan was heartfelt, feeling her slim form pressed so closely to him, only the thin layer of his robe keeping them separated. He wanted to lift her, to pull her onto his cock, impale her with its rigid length. He wanted to feel her around him, her flesh hot and wet, clinging to his cock with every forceful thrust.

He wanted to rage at the moon for he couldn't do it. He couldn't take her, not like this, not now. Not while he was still the beast.

"I...I can't, Brenna. Please," he begged, holding her at arm's length from him, his entire body shaking with the hold he held over his passions. "Don't ask this of me again, not now. Not while I am like this," he said, staring down at his hairy body with disgust. "I cannot take the chance that I might harm you in my lusts or cause one of our children to be stricken with this same infirmity. I just can't, Brenna," he said, his eyes pleading with her to understand.

Brenna felt the defeat before her sigh gave away the emotion. She couldn't fight with his will to protect her. But then she glanced up, seeing the fabric tented on the front of his robe, something he no longer tried to hide from her.

A small smile came to her lips as she trailed her fingers across it, before glancing up at him.

"If I cannot have you, Garren, might I touch you instead? I wish to know how a man's cock will feel in my hand."

"Brenna..." Garren began, his voice shaky as just the thought of her fingers on him brought him close to release. "I don't think..."

"Please," she whispered, her fingers busily undoing the knot at his waist. "I but wish to touch it, perhaps to taste your essence as you have tasted mine."

The robe slipped from his shoulders, falling to the bed behind him. His arms hung down at his sides, his hands in fists so tight she could see the white knuckles through the black of his fur.

His body was hard, his skin hot under the thick fur that covered him. She rubbed her hands through the fur on his chest, using her nails to scratch gently. "Please?" she asked again, staring into his eyes.

Slowly Garren rolled onto his back on the bed, pushing his robe out from under his body. He watched her watch him, seeing her eyes study his body, wishing she could see him without the fur that made him such a freak. Her eyes swept down his body, pausing as she gazed upon his cock, that lusty piece of flesh that seemed to pulse before her, wanting so badly to be touched by her soft little hands.

She knelt beside him, her legs next to his arm. Reaching out slowly, she cupped his hard flesh in her hand, almost jerking back when he moaned loudly into the quiet of the room. "Did I hurt you?" she whispered quickly.

"No!" His voice was loud and emphatic, making her smile. Her fingers trailed over the smooth flesh, feeling the veins that ran through it, wondering at its silky texture and warmth.

"It's so big," she whispered, closing her fingers around his cock, caressing him with long strokes, leaning ever closer to the dark thick head. Her other hand went to the soft furry sack below that contained his egg shaped testicles, slowly cupping them in her warm palm, massaging them with gentle squeezes.

"Yes," he groaned, feeling as if he'd stepped into a small piece of heaven, watching her small breasts bounce with the movements of her arms. His hand reached out slowly, his fingers slipping over her breast, feeling the plump, hard nipple grow in his palm.

"May...May I kiss it, like they do in the books, Garren? Please?" she asked him, her eyes never leaving his groin.

"Oh God, I might not be able to control myself if you do, Brenna." He groaned when she bent forward anyway, her lips touching the dark tip of his cock, the heat of her mouth slipping over his flesh. His eyes closed and he dropped his hand from her body to grip the sheet under him. She was hot, wet suction around his cock, her lips moving down the length of his shaft, her tongue tasting him, swirling around him with devastating effect.

The taste was strange on her tongue, salty and musky, her lips stretched around him, his girth filling her mouth. His hand went to her head, gently moving her hair from across her face, his eyes opening to watch her. Brenna desperately wanted to please him, to give him the same intense pleasure he'd given to her.

She tried to remember everything she'd read, using her hands and her mouth to please Garren, feeling her own arousal grow with every growl and grunt he gave. Her hand stroked over his cock and she felt him tense, his fingers digging into her hair, holding her to him.

With a growl he let loose, unable to control the beast inside of him that craved release in the depths of her mouth. His seed burst from the head of his cock, heated pulses that filled her mouth. She swallowed almost convulsively, desperately trying to keep up with the outpouring of his lusts; thrilled inside that she'd been able to bring him such pleasure.

He relaxed against the bed, his hands now caressing her hair, feeling her busy tongue still licking around the head of his sensitive cock. "Brenna," he moaned, dragging her up his body, finding her sweet lips with his own. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he whispered between long, drugging kisses.

"No," she sighed, enjoying the way his arms felt around her. He was warm, his fur cushioning her body against his hard form. She yawned and he laughed.

"You need sleep, my pet." He stroked the soft line of her naked back, reaching down to pull the covers up she'd pushed down when she'd sat up.

"Garren," she sighed. "I love you." She snuggled her nose into his fur and let sleep take her.

He felt her body grow limp and heavy, shifting slightly until he got comfortable. With a long sigh, he gave into the one thing he dreamed of doing. He held her in his arms and drifted off to sleep.

****

Garren stared at the cover of the book, the bright sunlight of midmorning streaming over the faded blue leather cover. He sighed, both dreading and anticipating opening the old book and staring at the small print, letting it form into words that took him into the life of his parents.

His father had been drugged for years by Jeffrey, and his grandfather before that, all in the name of greed. That same greed had been responsible for the death of his mother and the baby she'd carried. He couldn't remember his parents ever speaking of an uncle or of Jeffrey to him. He had no clue as to what had happened to either. All the answers to his questions were buried inside this leather bound book.

He opened the book slowly, carefully straightening the pages that had been wrinkled by his rage the night before. He found his page, stopping only to stare at the door to his room, to make sure that he'd locked it. Then, with a deep breath, he ran his finger down the page to find where he'd left off.

****

"I never expected such, Master Nathaniel." He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out in a long sigh. "I shall pack my things and wait for the police to come and collect me, Sir."

He started out of the room, his head bowed.

"Wait," Nathaniel said, his voice rough with emotion that he'd thought he'd be able to keep under control. "I need answers."

"I'll tell you what I know, Sir." Jeffrey turned once more, folding his hands in front of him.

"Will I continue to change now that I know about the drugs?" Nathaniel asked, his hands clenched as he waited for the answer.

"The drugs controlled the change, sir, but without them, I'm not sure of the effects. There...is an antidote. But it is dangerous. Even the least little discrepancy in measurement and it could kill you." Jeffrey looked down at his clasped hands. "I can get the drugs from the old woman and bring them back to make the potion for you, Sir, if that is your desire."

"What is in the potion?" Melissa queried her voice thin.

"Mandrake root, nightshade, and hemlock, to name a few of the ones that I know. The rest, well the recipe is ancient and the old woman would be able to tell you better."

Melissa went to Nathaniel, her hand slipping into his. "You could die," she whispered, staring into his dear face.

"I could go mad from the beast let loose inside of me, Melissa. I could die just as easily by the hand of a hunter or another who found out my secret."

He turned to face her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist. "It is the only way to secure a future for us, my love, a future free of the beast."

Worried green eyes met reassuring amber ones, for he fought to hide the fear he felt inside of himself. He would never let her see his worry. He smiled, stroking his fingers through the satin of her golden tresses. "I want to stay human, to stay a man for you, Melissa. I want to know the future we might share together as man and woman."

"I don't want to lose you, Nathaniel," she whispered, a single tear trailing down her silky cheek. "I only just found you."

"You won't lose me, beloved. I'm made of sturdy stuff." He gazed into her eyes, seeing her acceptance in their hazel depths. "I love you," he whispered, kissing her softly. He looked at Jeffrey from over her head. "I shall dress and accompany you to the village to meet this old woman. You and I still have much to discuss."

Melissa dressed in the gown she'd worn to start her first day of work, a day that seemed so long in the past now that so much had happened to her. She paced the floor, her thoughts in turmoil. Could they trust Jeffrey? Could this be just one more trap to kill Nathaniel, an evil plan formed in the mind of the servant to save his own hide?

Jeffrey had seemed so devoted to Nathaniel, so honest in his caring of the young master, she found it hard to fathom that it had all been an act. Would he actually use this potion as a way to kill him now that he'd been found out?

She flounced to the bed, tearing off the stained and used sheets. Wadding them into a bundle, she could smell Nathaniel's scent amongst the fabric. She quickly tossed them aside, going to the small cupboard in the hall that held sheets, and then remaking the bed.

She took her time, fluffing and arranging the many pillows, then went and found a cloth and began dusting the furniture, anything to take her mind off what might be happening to her beloved.

****

Nathaniel walked beside Jeffrey, refusing to take the coach which would cause a stir in the small village. He wanted as few people to notice them as possible. His heart was racing as the reality of what such a discovery could mean to him. If he were cured, he could return to London and to the life that had been taken from him. The culture of the theater, the museums and parties he could now attend once more, all with Melissa on his arm. She would be beautiful, dressed in silks and satins, her hair coiffed in the most current style.

She would love the theater, the ballet and the parties. She would shine in the life of luxury that he would give her. They would have children, many of them, and fill his London home with the sound of laughter and love.

All he had to do was to survive the cure.

* * * *

Jeffrey knocked softly upon the door to a small hut on the very edges of the village. There were no windows, only the badly hung door, and smoke streamed from the crooked chimney, showing that a fire was lit within. He waited a moment and knocked again, twice, and then the door slowly opened.

"You can't possibly be wantin' more of the herbs, Jeff me boy," an old voice cackled and a crooked and gnarled hand reached out, grabbing onto Jeffrey's arm.

"No, Matilda," Jeffrey said, looking for all the world as if he wanted to brush off the old hand and run from the woman who owned it. "I've come for the cure to the poison."

"The cure?" the old woman asked her voice raspy as if she'd breathed in too much smoke. "It is a dangerous undertaking, not to be given to the faint of heart. If the one taking the cure isn't strong and true, it will kill him."

"I'm very strong, old woman," Nathaniel spoke up, pushing Jeffrey forward into the hut and following him inside. A single candle lit the interior which was filled with hanging lines of herbs, baskets containing God knows what sitting upon shelves, and small bottles filled with different covered liquids sitting row upon row on a stand. In one corner was a small pallet set in front of a steadily burning fire, a pot boiling merrily above it. It smelled of herbs and growing things, and rich bubbling stew inside, a pleasant scent and not one that Nathaniel would have thought this place to have.

"So you are the beast," she said, a tiny, diminutive woman who stood barely as tall as his chest. She was thin and fragile looking, bent and using a cane to help her move about. Her face was brown with age, wrinkled and thin.

Her hair, what little was left, was snarled and pure white, falling around her face in tangled strands.

"Yes, I am the one who was turned by those damnable herbs you sold to this man. I want the cure and then I want your promise that you will sell that potion no more. No man deserves the burden of being cast as an animal such as the one that I was turned into."

"I take orders from no one, young master, not even someone such as yourself." She chuckled, staring up at him with eyes that had seen much in this world. "I shall give you the cure and the directions upon how to make it. You must not deviate from the instructions, young master, for if you do, it will kill you."

She scurried around the small room, mumbling to herself, the thocking sound of her cane on the hard floor a distinct counter beat to the thumping of Nathaniel's heart. Excitement rocked him, the idea of being a whole man again, of not worrying about the beast having its existence hanging over his head, making his hopes soar.

Finally, she handed a basket to Jeffrey, a small sheet of parchment on the top with the ingredients and the instructions listed upon it. Nathaniel handed her a purse of coin, much more than the usual price she charged for the other potion. But for this, it was worth it.

She followed them out, rasping her thanks. "All will be well, young master, as long as you didn't beget a child during your time as a beast."

"What do you mean by that, old woman?" Nathaniel asked her, turning and taking a step toward her.

"A child conceived during the time you were under the influence of my herbs could also find themselves as a beast," she cackled, turning and closing her door tightly again behind her.

Nathaniel stared at the closed door, his heart heavy, for if Melissa were to be pregnant... But the chances were slight; they'd been together such a short time. He shook his head, looking at Jeffrey. "Should I trust you to prepare this, Jeffrey?

The question seemed to hang in the air between them.

****

Garren growled low in his throat. He had reached the end of the page and turned it quickly, scanning the text on the next page for any sign of the ingredients needed for the cure. He knew it had worked, for his father had been a hale and hearty man when he'd been growing up. What of his mother? She'd been exposed to the drug also, was she at risk? He growled again, his frustrations growing for he had little time before Brenna would return.

His expression softened as he thought of the beautiful girl. His mother would have liked her, for she was sweet and loving. His father would have liked her for the spunk she showed in facing him as the beast and not fleeing or fainting, though he'd given her little chance to do either. He wanted to marry Brenna, to take her as his wife. He wanted to hold her in his arms every night as he had the night before, to love her fully, as a man. He wanted children with her that they would love and raise together.

Garren sighed, rubbing his eyes with his big furry hands. Turning the page, he continued reading. "Melissa couldn't stand..."

****

...the tension she was feeling for another moment, alone in Nathaniel's room. She hurried down the stairs, determined to do something that would ease her nerves and keep her busy until he returned. Going to the library, she threw open the pocket doors, letting in the light from the bright hallway.

She'd work on those shelves and uncrate the boxes of books that had been delivered and left in the room. It would keep her busy enough, she knew, until the two of them returned.

The boxes were opened already, as if someone had started the job for her, and she went to the first box, lifting a book from it. Picking up a cloth from where she'd dropped it before; she quickly swiped at the dust from the shelf and started to arrange the many books from the box.

So involved was she in what she was doing, she didn't see the shadow that darkened the doorway of the library, or hear the booted footsteps of the man who entered the library. Her humming as she worked covered the sound of his stealthy movements as he came up behind her. It was his hand over her mouth that was her first clue she was not alone, another arm coming around her waist to pull her against a hard male body.

"My dear," a strange male voice said in her ear. "You and I have some things to discuss."

Melissa struggled against the arm around her waist, her hands going to the hand clapped over her mouth, trying to loosen it so that she could scream.

She was hauled up, her feet leaving the floor until she kicked her heels against his shins, hearing him curse. His hand slipped over her mouth as he tried to position her to where she could no longer kick him, and she managed to get the fleshy part of his palm in her mouth. She bit down hard, tasting his blood in her mouth as his curses filled the air around her.

She was dropped, unceremoniously, onto the hearth at their feet, a large hand slamming against her head, and then she knew no more.

It wasn't long before she woke her head hurting, a foul taste of blood in her mouth. Her eyelids moved, her thick lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she forced her eyes to open, staring around her and searching for the man who'd attacked her.