Page 141 of Beau and the Beast

"Is this ok?"

"Yes—please—don't stop—"

Beau stopped making coherent words as Wolfram fucked slowly into him, holding Beau by the hips and stroking with his full length. Every time he bottomed out, a wave of pleasure built in Beau until he realized he was going to come. It was too late to even touch himself, to even reach for his own cock because all at once he was sputtering, coming hard onto his own chest just from the sensation of being fucked so thoroughly, so deep.

Wolfram almost missed the fact that it had happened, but Beau's abrupt moans caught his attention. His eyes wide, Wolfram balanced his weight on one hand so that the other was free to stroke Beau through the last aftershocks of his orgasm.

He kept going until Beau's thighs shook, his nerves shot and overstimulated, and then he gently pulled out.

“That’s never happened before,” Beau said, hitching himself up on one elbow to look down, curious why Wolfram had stopped. The man was breathing deeply inches above his belly—and then in an obscene and perfect moment, Wolfram parted his lips and lapped up the skin of Beau's stomach, up to his chest, collecting his release and then savoring it.

When he looked up to meet Beau's eyes, his expression was shocked, as if he hadn't expected himself to do it—or at least hadn't expected an audience.

Beau had never seen something so goddamned hot. He threaded a hand through Wolfram's mane, pulling him closer for a kiss, tasting himself on Wolfram's mouth. He moaned as they broke.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of stopping," he said softly as Wolfram moved away from him.

"You came—I can finish on my own—"

"Don't be ridiculous," Beau said. "I want you to come inside me."

* * *

The words hitWolfram like they had a physical power, like a punch to the stomach.

He stroked his hands down the length of Beau's naked body before making up his mind.

"Turn over," he said firmly—and Beau's breath hitched at the command. He moved gracefully, obediently, and after a moment he was on his knees in front of Wolfram.

There was something so erotic about the trust of the moment to Wolfram, the continued vulnerability, and before he could stop himself, he was pulling Beau to him, holding him closer, his thick cock slipping between Beau's thighs. Beau let out a noise of surprise but after a moment he clamped his legs together, dragging himself up and down Wolfram's length. Wolfram had only meant to rub against him once but this was novel, the feeling of having Beau's skin wrapped around him, the way he was moving his entire body.

Wolfram held him by the waist and their bodies moved together. He kissed Beau's neck, the sensitive shell of his ear, loving the way that he knew now he could make Beau's breath catch in his throat, force his blood to redirect. He moved his hand to trail down the front of Beau's body even as he kissed him, as he thrust between his thighs, pausing to tease one of Beau's nipples between his fingertips before trailing lower, wanting to feel the soft skin of his belly.

He was shocked, then, to find that Beau was already hard again.

"It's barely been two minutes," he said into the skin of Beau's neck.

"Itoldyou that I wanted you," Beau shot back, his voice jumping as Wolfram stroked around his length and thrust forward again. "I wasn't just being nice when I said I wanted you to keep going."

It was enough encouragement for Wolfram. His desire to never let the moment end warred with his need for release. Release won. He slicked them both again, still worried, still not entirely convinced that it was possible for Beau to take him without feeling any pain.

This time he was in complete control of both of them, and the thought thrilled the possessive animal inside of him. Beau was his—all his, only his. He trusted Wolfram, wanted to give his whole self over to be marked by him, wanted Wolfram to fill him with his release and prove that Beau was his.

Wolfram lined up and sank in slowly, hand steady in the center of Beau's spine.

"God, it's so good," Beau breathed out softly. "Don't stop."

He was still so tight, so perfect, and Wolfram worked to squeeze in to the hilt. Beau's breath caught as he bottomed out again, but this time Wolfram didn't stop, didn't ask if he was ok, only listened to what Beau told him and trusted that if he needed to stop, Beau would speak up.

Wolfram had spent so much of the last decade hating himself, hating his own body in every way and thinking of it as somethingother than him. Every piece of the monster exterior was foreign, he'd told himself. Nothing he saw in the mirror had anything to do with him.

But that had changed, slowly but surely, because of Beau—and though Wolfram hadn't stopped to think of it until that moment, everything was different now.

Wolfram watched with intense concentration as his cock disappeared into the beautiful, perfect body beneath his, and Beau let out a broken moan of pleasure. Wolfram didn't want to look away from himself, didn't want to pretend to be something else or to have a different appearance. Beaulikedthis body that Wolfram had.

Thanks to Beau, Wolfram felt connected to the body he inhabited. It brought him pleasure—brought the person he cared about pleasure—and was strong to protect, not just to destroy.

It was a moment of pure bliss, the first time Wolfram felt so grounded in his visceral experience since the curse. He loved what he could do for Beau. How could he hate something that Beau so unashamedly adored?

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