Page 100 of Beau and the Beast

All of the worry, the anxiety that Beau had carried in his chest was gone, replaced by a deep satisfaction and a buzzing of pleasure that started in his groin and unfurled outwards, blossoming slowly even before his orgasm began. Wolfram eased him to his back, still pumping him expertly. He began to kiss down the front of his throat, nipping at Beau’s skin in between long strokes of his tongue.

"God, Wolf, it's—you're so good—"

The quality of Wolfram’s kisses changed and with a burst of pleasure, he realized that Wolfram was biting down gently on the soft part of his shoulder where his neck met his body. The combination of the sensation of Wolfram’s teeth and the friction of his hand was too much and Beau could feel himself coming, words stolen from his throat as his muscles clenched.

"Yes," Wolfram said softly, as if he was the one benefitting from the release in the moment. The words were hot against Beau’s skin—and then he felt Wolfram bite down on the same spot, pressing one big canine into the flesh but not breaking the skin.

“Wolf that’s ah—amazing—“

His hips stuttered as he came, as Wolfram continued. Pleasure radiated from his groin to the spot where Wolfram held his mouth.

Wolfram slowed and squeezed around him then as if determined to wring out every bit of pleasure from the moment possible and Beau's muscles quivered as he came, his release hot on his skin, nothing in his head but the frenzied arousal, the pleasure of it, the reality of Wolfram there, his soft hand and his huge power channeled into something as delicate as the moment between them.

Wolfram kept stroking him until he was whining, overstimulated by the pleasant friction, almost yelping against it. He gently released Beau before moving to straddle him again, his massive weight pressing down into the mattress. Beau looked down to see what he was doing just in time to watch Wolfram, a look of intense concentration on his face as he used his enormous tongue to lap away Beau's release. He swallowed, relishing it, and then did a second pass, dragging his tongue over the skin on Beau's belly, his chest, in all of the places where he'd come on himself.

Beau sighed and tangled his fingers in his mane, pulling him gently for a kiss.

Wolfram stopped abruptly, though, when he was face to face with Beau again. He went stiff and reached out a hand to Beau’s collarbone.

“I hurt you,” he said, the words hollow and horrified.

Beau brought his fingers up to where Wolfram was reaching and drew them away spotted with blood. It wasn’t much—not enough to even be all that shocking.

“It’s fine—“

“You’rebleeding—“

“It wasreally hot,Wolf, I promise.”

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

“I liked it. I’m serious.”

Beau guided him into a kiss again even as the man frowned. The kiss Wolfram returned was sweet rather than hungry, and when Beau reached between them to stroke Wolfram, he was only half-hard.

"Please," Beau said, not entirely sure what he wanted to come next but knowing that this wasn't enough. "I want you to come, too."

Wolfram shook his head but didn’t smile. "Not tonight, dear Beau."

"Why?"

"Because you've given me more than I even knew I wanted," Wolfram said. "And far more than I deserve."

Beau shook his head. "That's not true."

"Let me have just this tonight."

Beau didn't want to give in, didn't feel right about not granting Wolfram the same sort of pleasure that he'd just had.

"Please," Wolfram continued, the sound tight and almost hoarse. "I just want to hold you now."

The naked emotion in his voice was unexpected and made Beau give in immediately.

And just as he'd dreamed of doing, he turned to Wolfram and tucked himself in against his chest. Wolfram pulled him closer easily, getting comfortable in the bed that groaned under their weight, before letting out a massive sigh.

So much had changed for Beau in the past few weeks—so many unexpected twists and turns. Nothing in his life could have prepared him for the feeling of security, of deep contentment that Beau felt in that moment as he listened to Wolfram's breaths grow slower.

When Beau finally drifted to sleep, wrapped in the plush comfort of Wolfram's arms, he dreamed only of sunshine.

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