Page 138 of Beau and the Beast

Then the tongue was gone and Beau whined at the loss.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, Wolf, Jesus,” Beau breathed out. “Won’t be if you stop, though.”

Wolfram obeyed, returning, pressing in. He loosened his grip on Beau’s hips and Beau took it as an invitation, rocking back as far as Wolfram’s hands would let him, rutting back against his face. Wolfram met him eagerly with a thrust of his tongue and Beau issued a broken moan. It was perfect and he needed more.

Even as he thought it, Wolfram snaked a hand between the sheets and Beau’s belly, his big, soft palm sliding along Beau’s cock. Beau took it as permission, hitching up higher off the bed to rock back against Wolfram’s face and then down against his hand.

* * *

It wasincredible to let Beau set the pace, to watch him as he worked himself up, desperate and whining for more than he was being given.

But just as he had set a rhythm, Beau stopped abruptly.

“I have to—I’m going to—we can’t keep doing this,” he said, tripping over his own words.

“Is it not good?” Wolfram asked.

“I don’t want to come like this,” Beau said desperately. “I wantyou.”

The words sent a throb through him. Wolfram would’ve been happy to finish him just like this, to back off afterward and bask in the afterglow, the warm scents of Beau’s happiness. That was all he really needed.

But beyond the fear, beyond the doubts, Wolframdidwant more. It was hard to admit to himself, hard to allow himself this one thing. But yes, he did want Beau.All of him.

Gently, Wolfram guided Beau, rolling him onto his back and retrieving a bottle of lube that he’d half-forgotten he owned until this past month. Slicking the fingers of one hand, he looked down seriously.

“Tell me if I hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me,” Beau shot back.

Wolfram lowered his hand, pressing a fingertip against Beau’s flushed entrance.

“You’re putting a lot of trust into someone with retractable claws,” Wolfram teased.

“Your dirty talk needs alotof work.”

Wolfram pushed in slowly with one thick digit, pleased to find Beau pliant and relaxed—the groundwork he’d laid with his tongue apparent.

He knew his fingers would be thicker than what Beau was used to, and so he went slow, never pushing boundaries or applying much pressure—truly teasing him open. He bent to kiss Beau as he did it, that primal part of him feeling like he needed to be closer, to consume him entirely. Beau moaned into their kiss, working his hips down as Wolfram slid in and out of him.

* * *

As he opened Beau, Wolfram continued to tease, twisting around him with his free hand or nipping the skin of his neck in the way that made Beau throb. Wolfram wasn’t edging him on purpose, but he was already so close from this attention alone that it felt like torture.

One finger became two, the stretch more intense than Beau had ever felt before from fingers alone. If they were back at his apartment, he thought, this would be the point at which they’d switch over to toys—but there was something thrilling in the idea that Wolfram was going to prep Beau all on his own.

Soon, Beau had relaxed around him. Wolfram built a steady pace with his hand that had Beau whining and desperate.

“I need you to take one more,” Wolfram said, looking down at him seriously. “Can you do that for me, Beau?”

His gentle tone and need for permission made Beau’s breath catch in his throat. He nodded. He was ready—eager—for more.

Beau closed his eyes and drew a deep breath as Wolfram sank three thick fingers into him. It wasn’t the most he’d ever taken but it was damned close, and the pressure in him was enough for a bubble of anxiety to swell momentarily.

When he opened his eyes, any anxiety was gone. The expression of reverence on Wolfram’s face, the reality of him there above Beau in the bed, did enough to remind him of what he wanted and why he wanted it so badly.

Beau reached a hand down to ghost along his length as Wolfram patiently sank in, waiting for Beau to adjust.

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