Page 22 of Bella and Her Beast
“Mmm,” she moans, and lays her head on my chest.
This has to be the hardest thing for me. Knowing I’m falling for someone who is my forever, and she doesn't even know it.
“You know what I’m thinking?” she questions.
“No. Please tell me.”
“That book was a really great gift.”
“I have plenty of others, would you like to see them?”
“Duh,” she exclaims with a laugh.
I take her hand and lead her to the backside of the house where the library sits. We approach the gate off the balcony leading to the entryway.
She looks down at the steps that lead to my secret room. “What’s down there, your sex dungeon?”
“Bella, my entire house is my sex dungeon.”
Her eyes widen, and the expression on her face is one of shock and intrigue.
I just smile as I hold open the door allowing her to enter.
She gazes in bewilderment at the vast collections of literature, both older classics and newer reads. “Whoa. Why the hell do you even come to the library, if you have all of this at your fingertips?” Her fingers trail lightly against the spine of each of the bound treasures.
“This collection is lacking some of the things I need.”
“I see you don’t have a paranormal, mythical, magical, wizardry section, but still. This collection is invaluable if you ask me.”
“Hmm, same thing my appraiser said when I had to renew the insurance policy on just this room alone. Yet, he still found a way to insure them.”
“I would have these in a vault somewhere. I read the trade magazine for literature's rarest finds and I know this room alone is worth more than the library I work at.”
“It’s up there. You know, you can come read these anytime you want?”
“Uh, no. I wouldn’t want my oils to get on any of these pages. If it’s the same to you, just let me visit them every once in a while,” she laughs, and it’s hard for me to resist her alluring and exotic looks.
A twinge pulls in my jeans and my wolf’s primal desires stirs deep. I walk up behind her, pulling her hair to the side, and whisper in her ear, “My home is always open to you.”
Her body shivers, and she turns to me, crashing her mouth onto mine.
Our tongues dance, mine taking the lead as I walk her over to the leather couch. The only sound I can make out, aside from the heavy breathing and moaning between us, is the brandy decanter and glasses clinking as we bump the table.
The back of the furniture stops our motion. I remove my shirt, allowing it to fall to the ground. I hike up her dress and snatch the thin lace material from between her legs that is trying valiantly to cover her treasure... no,mytreasure. I ease two fingers into her snatch and she gasps loudly at the sensation, digging her nails into my back.
“Fuck,” I exclaim, at the thrill and slight pain her actions cause.
The way her inner walls cling to my fingers excites me even more and I remove them to undo my jeans.
They fall to the ground and her hands trail down to my waist and then over to my dick.
She pauses action when she grabs what’s waiting for her, and her eyes widening at the feel of the girth.
Our gazes lock when I pick her up, wrapping her legs around my waist while I carry her to the other side of the couch. I slowly sit down, maintaining that position.
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” I offer. I never want her to feel like this has to happen.
She leans forward, propping up on her knees, moving her dress out of the way, before settling back down. Her wetness seeping through my boxers, teasing my dick as she slowly rocks.
