Page 142 of Beau and the Beast

Wolfram was lost in the realms of emotion and pleasure as he sank into Beau, pressing his chest against Beau's back as he rolled his hips. He only trusted himself with short thrusts, but after a moment, Beau was pressing back, urging him with his body, with his groans for more.

"Please," Beau said, his voice a thin line. "I need you."

The words ignited something in the base of Wolfram's belly and the other part of him tried to rise—to take Beau harder, with complete abandon.

Wolfram met the thing inside of himself somewhere in the middle, releasing Beau so that he could move more and rising up to balance on the balls of his feet. He hadn't been using the strength of his thighs—the legs that could push him through miles on the treadmill without tiring, that formed the basis of all of his strength. But now with Beau's permission, he rose to the position where he could get greatest leverage and rocked his full length into Beau.

"Oh my God—" Beau said, shocked. "Please don't stop," he continued, knowing that Wolfram would still be afraid, still be cautious.

As Wolfram fucked into him harder, Beau's moans took the shape of babbling, "oh Wolf" and "oh God" and "I can't believe" falling from his lips, the sound of his voice altered by the fact that Wolfram could tell he had a smile on his face. Wolfram was half mad with the pleasure of it, the faster rhythm reducing him to nothing more than synapses firing and blood flowing.

He squeezed hard around Beau's waist, losing himself momentarily into the physical moment, leaning more on Beau to kiss his neck, to lap at the skin, to press gently with his teeth there at the most vulnerable point of the man below him as his orgasm built in the base of his balls, a release beyond release, so profound that it didn't seem to have a definite beginning. Wolfram kept thrusting hard into Beau as he growled his name and came hard, his orgasm drawing out impossible and protracted, the pleasure spiraling out until he felt it in his fingertips, his toes, the tip of his tail.

* * *

The new rhythmwas punishing and perfect and Beau felt almost as if he'd gone somewhere outside of himself, the pleasure and utter abandon melting the stress out of him completely. Beau reached down to grasp his cock, twisting around himself, a second orgasm approaching.

In the rare instances that Beau had come twice in the same session, he always found that his second release was less pleasurable. But tonight, that wasn’t the case. As their bodies worked together, Wolfram pressed hard into his prostate again and again, not just bumping it but stroking against it, past it, over and over in a way that had Beau’s senses going haywire—and this time he felt the pleasure of orgasm even before he was coming.

When he felt Wolfram come, though, it pushed him over the edge. Beau could feel the massive cock inside of him throbbing, could sense the way Wolfram’s thrusts hitched and went funny as he began to come. As Beau began his own release, there was an additional fullness and pressure, Wolfram stretching him even further, filling him.

Pleasure blossomed out like something alive and aware, playing over Beau’s skin as he came, as Wolfram pumped into him. The man on top of him just kept coming—and Beau didn’t know if it was different than it had been the other day or if it justfeltdifferent because Wolfram was inside of him now, but his body was on fire as Wolfram continued, hipping deep into him, repeating his name as he came.

It was impossible—he’d never been so full—and then he felt something that made him shudder, that made his orgasm extend even after Beau thought it was over: the hot drip of Wolfram’s release down the inside of his thighs.

* * *

It had been too muchfor even Beau’s enthusiasm to take, and Wolfram felt equal parts embarrassed and stirred as his release filled Beau past the brim, spilled out between them, dripping in obscene streaks down Beau’s pale, shaking legs.

Wolfram moaned through the last wave of pleasure, stroking a hand down Beau’s side as he pressed the last few strokes into his body, his cock coated now in his own release. He could tell Beau was still getting off on it, whining and squeezing around him, grinding back.

They both shuddered as the drips reached Beau’s kneecaps, and Beau let out a soft “Jesus,”that sounded half exhausted and half impressed. Wolfram reached forward to hold some of Beau’s weight as he pulled out. More of his seed flowed out of Beau as he sat back and he moaned at the sight of it in spite of himself.

Wolfram gave into an impulse then, and as he held Beau by the hips, he leaned down, pressing his broad tongue into the back of Beau’s knee and then dragging it up, tracing the path of his release before swallowing and doing the same thing to Beau’s other thigh.

Beau let out a whispered “oh my God,” before rolling to his side and accepting the kiss that Wolfram pressed hot against his mouth. They caught their breath in between kisses, both of their bodies shaking and strange as they tried to come down from the high of their coupling.

“I was going to apologize for ruining your bedspread,” Beau said, gesturing to the blanket when they finally parted, “but I guess I’m not the only guilty party.”

Wolfram smiled and moved quickly, wanting to find a washcloth for him, a fresh blanket to put on top of the bed so he could strip this one away. Beau pulled at his wrist.

“Don’t go yet—lie with me.”

“Let me get you something,” Wolfram insisted. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He returned with a warm, damp cloth, rolling Beau gently to a clean spot on the bed before cleaning him. Wolfram left to drop the cloth back into the bathroom and when he’d returned, Beau had already kicked the soiled blanket off of the bed. Wolfram grabbed a clean blanket and unfurled it over Beau’s body.

“Come on, enough already,” Beau said with a smile, reaching out to him.

Wolfram slipped between the sheets, pulling his body close to Beau’s, appreciating his warmth, the feel of Beau’s naked skin against his fur.

Beau couldn’t seem to stop smiling. Wolfram wanted to tell him everything in that moment, how deeply and quickly he’d come to love Beau, how Beau’s presence and his care had begun to erase all of the hurts that life had dealt Wolfram before that moment, and how he hoped that his own care and affection could somehow mitigate all of the unfairness that Beau had faced in his life so far.

It would be as simple as sayingI love you, he realized. Everything else was implied, was understood between them. But he held himself back. He didn’t want Beau to feel pressured to return the words just to make him happy, just because they’d had sex.

And so instead, Wolfram stroked a hand through Beau’s hair and lamely asked, “Are you happy?”

“Deeply,” Beau said with a chuckle. “I told you we could.”

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