Page 95 of Beau and the Beast

Beau stood his ground.

The thing stalking him was the curse. Wolfram was still in there.

“I’m not scared of you, Wolf.”

Wolfram crouched so that he was face to face with Beau. His nose crinkled and he took a long sniff, his jaws parting as if he could taste the smell of Beau.

“It’s me. It’s Beau. You’re ok, Wolf. You’re safe.”

His eyes softened but the growl didn’t fade.

With shaking hands, Beau reached slowly up until he was close enough to touch Wolfram. His heart squeezed unevenly in his chest. In that moment, Beau knew he was either going to die or he was going to bring Wolf back.

Beau closed his eyes and willed faith to wash over him as he threaded his fingers through Wolfram’s mane, curling his hands to grab the man firmly, to hold him steady, as Beau closed the distance between them, kissing Wolfram.

Chapter Eighteen

It waslike falling through a mirror.

Yesterday, Wolfram had awoken from his dreams of being close to Beau only to find that they were apart. And tonight, Wolfram awoke from his troubled sleep to find that Beau was there, was close, was kissing him.

It was impossible.

But nothing in Wolfram’s life was playing by the rules anymore.

Wolfram didn’t know where he was, didn’t know what had happened, but Beau was there, pulling him, his lips soft, his breath sweet.

Somehow, there was wind at his back—fresh air—but Wolfram ignored it. Beau was more important, the way he was tilting his head up, opening to Wolfram. He moved to hold Beau, to encircle his waist with his hands, only to feel a sharp pain in one of them. What the hell had happened?

Beau’s mouth, when he parted, was slick and hot, demanding. How was any of it possible? How was this something that Beau wanted?

He could feel Beau’s heart beating, fluttering with the thrill of kissing him, of being kissed. He could feel the blood in Beau’s body changing course. Beau’s hands fell from his mane and reached to pull Wolfram closer, pressing their bodies together.

The thing that shared his mind had only gone dormant for a moment and now it was back, roaring at him for more. He licked hungrily into Beau’s mouth, acutely aware of the smaller man’s size, of the changing chemistry of his body.

Without thinking, he hitched Beau up, grabbing him easily by the thighs and pulling him off the ground. He weighed nothing in Wolfram’s hands. Beau groaned into his mouth and wrapped his legs around Wolfram’s waist. The new position was better, allowed Wolfram to hold him easier, to wrap Beau in his arms and touch every inch of him at once.

He stepped forward, unsure of where they were, unquestioning. If this was a dream, he wouldn’t do anything to change it—but even as the thought occurred to him, he knew hewasn’tdreaming. Beau of his dream the night before had been beautiful but vague. Beau now, in the real world, was in perfect focus—his sharp breaths, the feeling of his legs squeezing around Wolfram, the way his hands curled in his fur and his hair tickled Wolfram’s forehead.

This was no dream. Wolfram’s imagination wasn’t that good.

He broke their molten kiss only long enough to draw a deep breath and whisper out a question.

“Where are we?”

“Guest room bedroom,” Beau said, his eyes heavy-lidded as he scanned Wolfram’s face. “You were sleepwalking.”

Even though the trance was broken, Beau made no move to pull away. There was a bed in front of him—slashed and ruined but still, a surface. Wolfram took the last step forward and then spun, sitting on the edge of the bed. Beau moved, staying close but straddling Wolfram’s lap before catching his mouth again.

The new position made Wolfram acutely aware of his nudity—and as Beau ground against his cock, he knew he wasn’t the only one. He moaned into the kiss and squeezed Beau by the waist, holding him still, overwhelmed at the contact, Beau’s soft pants against his skin, the firm pressure of his warm weight against Wolfram’s length. It was too much and he whimpered, breaking the kiss.

Beau’s posture was strange when they broke and Wolfram realized with a thrilling flush of pleasure that Beau was aroused too, his hardness straining between their bellies.

“How?” Wolfram asked, not even sure how to put his questions into words.

Beau just shook his head, dragging his fingers down Wolfram’s bare chest and blushing.

“Glad you’re back,” he said softly, a smile playing over his lips. “You scared the hell out of me.”

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