Beauty Meets her Beast Ch. 03

Poor Jasper never stood a chance. Blitz flew by him like lighting, Lord August triumphant as they passed. He reached the stables and swung down to the ground. Moments later Jasper and I reached it, and as we slowed, Lord August grabbed Jasper's reins, bringing him to a stop. He grinned up at me.

"I seem to have won," he said. His hands were about my waist and he was lifting me off of Jasper. My arms went about his shoulders and he held my legs up with one hand, and my waist with another. Our faces were mere inches apart. "Now to claim my prize," he murmured softly, and our lips met. His tongue slid gently into my mouth, swirling and teasing mine. I kissed him back, eager for more, and he tenderly sucked my bottom lip, giving the softest hint of teeth as he lightly bit down. My hands were clinging to his neck, the scarred portion strangely smooth beneath my fingers. He stepped forward, carrying me into the stable.

The dark of the stable made it impossible to see for a moment, after the brightness of outside. I hoped the page boy was nowhere near, but couldn't see for sure. Swiftly he turned us to the wall, and in one deft maneuver he had my back against it and my legs up and about his waist. He was hard and warm between my legs.

"Oh, Belle," he said, burying his face in my neck and trailing kisses down to my shoulder blade. I arched and leaned into it, my legs wrapping ever tighter around him. He groaned and pressed his length against me, grinding it into my pelvic bone. His hands were tight under my thighs, and he squeezed them, his fingers digging into my soft flesh. Leaning even closer, he used his body weight to trap me between the wall and him, freeing his hand to delve deeper under my skirt and touch me at my core. Even through the undergarments I could feel the heat from his hand, his fingers stroking up and down as I angled myself to give him better access. His hand worked tirelessly to get closer, and he managed to tweak the underwear to the side and touch my flesh. I was surprised at how damp it was, and he was able to slide his fingers inside me with no resistance. I whimpered with bliss. He worked them in and out of me, gently at first, then faster and harder. My breathing was heavy, little whining sounds escaping without my bidding.

"Call me Adam" said Lord August. "Oh Belle, Belle." He was throbbing against my thigh, and I ached for him. I hesitantly reached a hand down and cupped him through his trousers. His grunt of pleasure told me it was the right thing to do, and I began to stroke him up and down as he'd done to me. He inhaled sharply, and I paused, unsure if I'd done something wrong, but then he began to rub his hardness up and down my open palm and I resumed the action. His hand left my inner thighs, much to my dismay, then was on his breeches, unlacing them swiftly and then his bare member was in my hand, warm and stiff. I stroked up and down, gripping it firmly, and I could tell from the way he leaned into it with his eyes closed he was enjoying it. I felt satisfied with myself for being responsible for his pleasure. After a minute he shoved my hand aside, and then he was at my entrance, large and solid and questing.

"Adam, please... not here." I was so ready for him, I felt empty and incomplete, eager to have him inside me, but I was so conscious of our surroundings. At any moment the page boy might appear to round up the lost horses and intrude upon us in the stable. I cringed at the thought of being seen like this. It was bad enough I was behaving like a strumpet, but to be witnessed in such a position would be the final straw.

He growled and pressed against me again.

"Please, not here!" I begged. He pressed harder, the girth of his shaft providing the only resistance, and I panicked. "Stop!" I cried, and beat my arms against his chest. His face was determined and I thought he would keep going, but then something flipped, the intensity in his eyes disappeared, and he withdrew, slowly letting me slide to the floor until I was on my feet again. My womanhood was dripping and felt hollow and unfulfilled. Adam - or Lord August, I wasn't sure if the invitation to be so informal extended beyond the times of physical pleasure - nodded and seemed to gather himself, though he appeared to be on edge.

"Not here," he agreed. "But soon." He left me alone in the stables, ashamed and lustful and confused.

I made my way back inside, my head dizzy with thoughts. Did Adam's continued interest mean he hadn't lost regard for me, or merely that he wanted to see this thing through to completion and once he had my maidenhead he'd have nothing more to do with me? I allowed myself to fantasize about a continued life with him, one where he wanted me by his side always. It was a foolish daydream, I knew, but just permitting myself to think about it gave me a small smidgeon of hope. He was a great lord and even when we'd had money such a match would have been a stretch. Now we were little better than peasants. Farmers, at best. Was I completely wrong to hope? I couldn't believe that a man who showed such a gentle playful nature at times was all hard to the core. Then again, even if he had a softer temperament underneath, he might still be grieving for his wife too much to look to the long term. I might be merely a distraction from his sorrow, one of whom he was fond, but not overly attached.

Could I go on like this? One more encounter like today and I would doubtless be compromised, a fallen woman. Could I really live with myself after that? It would be a wonderful time, no doubt, but when it was over, and I was forever tainted, would the joyous memory of our time together be enough? Could you put a price on sexual pleasure, and if you could, did that price have to be my future? I spent most of the afternoon mulling over it, and before I went downstairs for dinner, I'd made up my mind.