Page 164 of Beau and the Beast

When Wolfram beganto undress Beau, he was struck to find that Beau was crying. He slowed and stopped himself, bringing a hand to Beau’s face to wipe away his tears. He didn’t bother asking why he was crying.

“Don’t let this take away what we can have tonight,” Wolfram said, not even believing the words himself but wanting Beau to be happy. “I’m not gone yet.”

Beau still wanted him—and wasn’t that something to celebrate?

He kissed Beau again, gently and slowly, as if maybe simply kissing him long enough could slow the march of time. Beau undid his buttons and fly as they met and Wolfram pushed away the garments, stripped off his own, without ever breaking.

He had brought this sadness into Beau’s chest through his lying and now he would do anything he could to lift him out of it—even if it was only through this momentary pleasure.

Wolfram rolled them back on the bed with Beau on top of him. Beau hummed into their kiss and then ground his body down, working it against Wolfram and rolling his hips. After a moment, Wolfram took Beau by the waist and lifted him, breaking their kiss. Beau gave him a quizzical look.

“Trust me?”

Beau nodded. Wolfram lifted him high, moving him up the bed until Beau was straddling Wolfram’s face, his knees pressing into the pillows on either side of Wolfram’s head.

“Take my horns,” he said, and Beau obeyed, grabbing on and steadying himself as Wolfram lowered him. Wolfram pressed up as soon as he was close enough, parting Beau’s cheeks gently and licking across his hole, and Beau’s silence cracked open with a broken moan from the first stroke.

Beau got the idea quickly enough, holding onto the horns while he rode Wolfram’s face. He started slowly but each rock of his hips became more insistent, more demanding, until he was fucking himself back onto Wolfram’s tongue. Wolfram groaned into the movement, spurred on by Beau’s eagerness, by the sensation of being near-smothered by him, at the pleasure of Beau taking whatever he wanted in that moment.

He loved to see and hear andsmellBeau like this, unbridled and coming apart at the seams. Beau seemed so mild and put-together when you met him, before you realized what a fierce personality he had, and there was something so special about having that same person in his bed, cursing and moaning out his name while Wolfram ate him out with abandon.

* * *

Ridingthe slick heat of Wolfram’s face was almost too much for Beau and he constantly caught himself having the urge to twist down his own length, to finish himself just like this. But he wanted Wolfram—all of Wolfram—needed to slake his thirst and ease his sadness with more than just this. Still, there was something perverse and novel about holding Wolfram by the horns as he fucked himself back onto that hot tongue.

When he needed more and couldn’t wait any longer, Beau shimmied down. Wolfram dropped his vice grip on Beau’s thighs, curious to see what would happen next—and in an inelegant move, Beau changed positions to face the other way.

He leaned to find their bottle of lube and pressed it into Wolfram’s palm in a wordless command. Below him, Wolfram’s hard length was straining into the air. Beau pressed his belly against Wolfram’s, moving until he was close enough to lick away the first beads of precum gathered there.

Wolfram understood quickly what he was supposed to do and as Beau stroked around him for the first time with one hand, Beau felt Wolfram press a slicked finger into him slowly. They moaned simultaneously, the low sound reverberating in Wolfram’s belly and playing against Beau’s skin.

They breathed hard as they worked and Beau lost himself to the pleasure of being teased open while he lavished attention on Wolfram’s cock. Fitting his mouth around Wolfram and feeling him pulse felt good; the stretch at the same time felt even better.

Though this was only their second time pursuing this, Wolfram had already seemed to get a better sense for Beau’s body—how fast he could take it and what his limits were—and the strokes of his fingers were more efficient this time. Jolts of pleasure surged through Beau like electricity every time he pressed in another finger.

Beau wanted this, knew from last time that they could have it, and his body relaxed quickly. Soon he was fucking himself back on Wolfram’s fingers, letting the cock drop from his mouth as he groaned and cursed at the pleasure of it—needing more, needing Wolfram. He moved to turn, and when he faced Wolfram, the man raised an eyebrow.

“Already, Beau?”

Beau just nodded, moving to straddle Wolfram.

* * *

Wolfram was panickedthat Beau was going to hurt himself—that they hadn’t taken enough time. Still, he lay back at Beau’s urging, throbbing hard as Beau took him by the base and lined them up.

It was different from the first time, steadier. Beau sank down onto his cock smoothly, slowly, until his ass was pressed flush against Wolfram’s hips. The molten tightness left Wolfram gasping, grabbing at Beau’s waist, lost momentarily to the current of pleasure. For once, the beast inside of him didn’t clamor for more. Beau had given him everything.

Beau was flushed and sweating, his chestnut hair sticking to his forehead, and he smiled once Wolfram was sheathed, shuddering softly and letting all of his weight fall across Wolfram’s hips.

“You’re incredible,” Wolfram said quietly, tracing a hand down the middle of his torso, stopping to caress his scarred skin.

“One of a kind,” Beau whispered through his smile. “Just like you.”

And then he was moving, working his hips and his thighs to rock up and down Wolfram’s length. How was it possible that he’d been ready so fast? Beau demanded impossible things of his own body—and got them. Apparently, Wolfram thought, Beaualwaysgot his way—even with his own anatomy.

Wolfram kept his palm against the center of Beau’s belly as he worked himself, stroking Wolfram’s cock with the graceful movements of his body. His weight was so slight. Something occurred to Wolfram.

* * *

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