Page 101 of Beau and the Beast

Chapter Nineteen

When Wolfram woketo find Beau still in his arms, he felt astonished. He hadn’t dreamed the night before. Affection and relief flooded in his chest. Beau was sleeping soundly, tucked into him as if they’d woken up together a hundred times.

He didn’t press Beau to wake up. Wolfram wanted to enjoy the moment for as long as he’d be allowed to.

It was odd to wake up in a bedroom where the curtains weren’t entirely drawn. Wolfram had grown so used to never seeing the sunrise that he’d almost forgotten what it was to wake up in a bright room. Sunlight filtered in from a gap between Beau’s curtains, cutting a bright slash across the center of the bed. Beau’s bare skin was washed the color of alabaster where the morning light hit it.

Despite what he’d said the night before, Wolfram was aching for release, waking up with an erection so stiff that it bordered on uncomfortable. As Beau moved against him in his sleep, even the slightest friction had him throbbing. The beastly part of him snarled, wanted Wolfram to clutch Beau, to wake him and—

He stopped himself. If he lay there thinking about it, it would only make things worse.

He needed to get that animal part of him under control before they did anything else.

Beau said he didn’t mind it—the fact that Wolfram had bitten him hard enough to draw blood the night before—but it troubled Wolfram more than he was willing to say.

He’d had no idea he was evenbitingBeau. Wolfram had been so deeply swept away by the moment that something else had kicked in, that animal part, and in his arousal he hadn’t fought it.

And no one had even been touching Wolfram. He’d been in the thick of it just from stroking Beau, from seeing him getting off. He didn’t dare think about what might happen if Beau had been touching him, his mind intoxicated and weak from its own orgasm.

Wolfram reached out to stroke the skin that he’d pierced the night before. The mark looked even worse in the morning light, and though the actual wound was tiny, the skin around it was pink and red, threatening to bruise deeper colors in the coming days.

Perhaps more troubling was the perverse satisfaction he got on some level knowing that he’d succeeded inmarkingBeau.

He’s not a piece of property,Wolfram thought angrily at himself.

Yes, but heisyours, his instincts shot back.

At Wolfram’s touch, Beau’s eyelids fluttered and his breath caught. He moved so that his face was caught by the light, the skin pale and laced with layers of color like veins through marble.

Beau was a work of art—and he wanted Wolfram. The thought was so absurd.

No more absurd than becoming a monster, though, he realized.

Maybe Wolfram would be the recipient of several miracles in one lifetime: an impossible transformation and an impossible love.

Wolfram reeled at his own thought.Love. He was acting like a lovesick teenager—one session of heavy petting and he was already waxing poetical about what he had with Beau. And yes, it was more than the physical—it always had been. But Beau’s time in the penthouse would be limited, and surely going to bed with Wolfram was more diversion than anything else. Thoughts of love were overkill.

Besides, Wolfram still remembered Beau’s words from the week before.

“I've just never been able to date someone if I didn't feel like we had a future together, long-term…”

Beau sniffed and when Wolfram looked to him again, his eyes were open. The light caught the irises at an angle, making them blaze blue like a cold flame. He seemed shocked to see Wolfram for a moment, but the smile that slid over his face was genuine.

“Hi,” Beau said.

“Good morning,” Wolfram said, reaching to smooth a hand through Beau’s hair.

“Does this mean I didn’t dream you into my bed last night?”

Wolfram slid his hand down Beau’s back before resting it on his waist.

“Hm. No such luck,” Wolfram said.

Beau tucked himself in against Wolfram’s chest. “You were incredible last night.”

“Oh, I was alotof things last night. Which reminds me that I’m going to have to explain myself to Violet and ask her to hire a new contractor.”

“Tell her you decided to make the room into a study for me,” Beau said, “and you just got carried away doing a little light demolition.”

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