The Heart of The Beast: A romantic adult fairytale revealing how the power of love can overcome the hardest heart. Susan Kohler
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fighting men and good weapons,” Beauty pointed out.
“What brought this matter to your mind now? Do you seek to argue or reason your way out of my bed?” The Beast stood up and walked over to fetch the wine, then returned and stood looking down at her.
“No, M’lord, I went at it clumsily but I wanted to point out that here, in this one place, the warrior can also be a man. You can drop your guard and still be safe,” Beauty said proudly. “I will not betray you but will stand proudly beside you in times of strife.”
“Be warned, lass, for I am not a fool. I know what is said behind my back, that someday I’ll meet the woman who can tame the Beast. I think there’s something more on your pretty mind. I think you seek to be that woman, to be the one to tame the Beast. The woman who can teach me what love is,” the Beast grinned without any humour in it. “Beware my lass, for it cannot be done, and certainly not by the likes of you.”
“Tame the Beast? Ha! What mere woman could manage such a miracle?” Beauty responded with seeming calm but somewhere deep inside her soul the idea had taken root.
She looked up at him as he stood by the bed, naked. Her emotions were jumbled but her mind was clear and fixed. She knew the risks she took by being there with the Beast, not only in his bed but also in his hands, and under his control. In her heart, mayhap to ease her conscience, she saw this pact much as an arranged marriage.
She also realized that the real key to her survival, not only the survival of her body but also the survival of her spirit and her soul did indeed depend on her being able to tame the Beast. She had to succeed or he would surely crush her. Not that she needed to tame him by making him into a weakling, she grasped intuitively, but simply by showing him how to trust someone enough to lower his iron guard and reveal the man hidden deep inside the facade.
She needed to show the Beast that the peasants whom he took for no more than mere animals in the fields were indeed real human beings, with all the hopes, despair, love, fears and dreams of any other people. It was her only chance, albeit a faint one, to improve things not only for herself and her family but also for the villagers.
She also needed to discover his dreams and strive to make his dreams hers, to help him achieve them. She would have to learn to share his goals, worries and responsibilities. The hard part was that she needed to do all this without his knowing it and most certainly without his cooperation; she only needed to overcome his lifetime of hard fought training and deeply held beliefs to achieve it.
The Beast, pouring himself a goblet of wine, climbed into the bed. It was a measure of his lack of regard for Beauty that he simply didn’t consider offering some to her.
Drinking deeply, he turned to her and asked gruffly, “What do they call you, lass?”
Beauty struggled not to shrink away from him, but she was nervous in spite of herself. “They call me Beauty, M’lord.”
“It suits you, lass,” he grinned and reached out for her. “But I doubt it’s your given name.”
In spite of herself, she shrank slightly from his reach. Her trembling increased and she seemed to shrink back into the mattress.
“Breaking your word already?” the Beast growled. “You said you’d be willing and loving.”
“I am,” Beauty protested softly, “but I am also still nervous, M’lord. Even a true bride on her wedding night is entitled to be a little timid. I know nothing of the things that happen between a man and a woman in bed. I don’t know what you expect me to do, or what you want to do to me. Please, M’lord, be just a wee bit patient and show me what you want of me so that I can please you. You made me very happy today when you released my brother. Let me do the same for you.”
Without a word, the Beast stretched out his arm and pulled her over to him. His action was not as rough as it was before but it was implacable and there was no escape. Instinctively, Beauty reached out her small, work-roughened hand and placed it on his chest. She stared into his eyes and gently rubbed a small circle on his chest, feeling the slight coarseness of the light covering of dark hair.
“What do you want me to do, M’lord?” she whispered softly. “What pleases you?”
“Your hand, touching me, pleases me.” The Beast was surprised at the answer that came out of his own mouth. “Have you never touched a man in such a way before, lass?”
When Beauty silently shook her head, the Beast lay back and relaxed slightly, reining himself in and forcing himself to hold back his desires for just a minute. He decided to slow down a bit, even though he was more than ready. He would let this sprite of a girl-woman get to know him just a little before he took her. He wasn’t being weak or kind, his mind whispered defending his decision to himself, he was simply prolonging his own moment of pleasure.
“Then, lass, feel free to explore,” he whispered as he cupped her hand with his own and dragged it softly along down his body.
“Truly, M’lord?” Beauty was shyly pleased in spite of her fears.
“Truly,” the Beast grinned at her, already finding her timid willingness strangely touching. “I’ll bear up under it somehow.”
Beauty tried to ignore the quiver she felt, seeing him grin. She stroked his hard chest with her delicate hands, exploring and tracing his old wounds and his firm muscles. She delighted in the hard contours and light furring of his chest. She rubbed one finger lightly over one of his nipples and felt his body jerk in reaction.
“Is that bad, M’lord? Did I do something wrong? I’m truly sorry.” Alarmed, she looked up into his face, afraid that he might be displeased with her actions.
The Beast clenched his jaw, “No lass, do not be sorry. It feels very good, almost too good. Pray continue.” He finally smiled and said a word he had seldom used before. “Please.”
Slightly reassured, she returned her attention to his chest. With one small hand she was once more touching one of his nipples and flicking her thumb over its nub.
The Beast found himself fighting for control over his body and his urges but he also realized he was actually enjoying the sensations she roused in him.
Beauty kept up her sensual exploration, her hands moving ever so slowly downward. She teased his navel, explored his hips and muscled abdomen before going ever lower, and even encountered the thick thatch of dark curls below his waist.
She paused before she finally teased the wiry curls but she carefully avoided touching his erect manhood until the Beast quickly took her hand in his and firmly guided it to him, showing her the motion he hungered so much to feel. She blushed as she felt the length and thickness of his fully erect penis. As she slid her hand along its length, she marvelled at the texture of it, the soft skin covering the hard muscle inside.
“It’s so big! Doesn’t it get in your way?” she asked, completely without guile. “All hard and sticking up like that?”
In spite of himself, and for the first time in a long time, the Beast laughed openly. “It’s not like that all the time, lass, only when I’m ready for a woman.”
The timid, sensual stroking continued for a moment before the Beast continued in a tight voice, “Lass, if you truly want to please me, you should know one thing: Any place you explore with your hands, you can also explore with your mouth.”
Beauty blushed furiously but she mumbled, “As M’lord wishes.”
Gingerly she lowered her mouth to his chest, shyly licking and kissing him. Remembering his reaction to the touch of her hand on his nipple, she gently licked at the nub with her tongue before nipping it. Her hands were still stroking his erect manhood.
Suddenly, the stroking of her hands and the gentle touch of her mouth was too much for the Beast to bear. With a low growl, he signalled that her brief respite was at an end. He ripped the thin gown from her and rolled over on top of her without a word and used his knee to spread her legs apart. He entered her quickly and roughly, ignoring her scream