Page 89 of Beautiful Beast

When my body stills, he pulls me onto his lap and tenderly kisses the top of my head while I catch my breath.

“Let me take care of you,” I say, kissing the column of his throat.

“If you so much as touch my dick, I’m going to come,” Adam warns.

“Stand up.”

He does, and I eagerly free him from his swim trunks, his cock hard as stone and so engorged it’s purple. I take the head into my mouth and suck, my fist stroking up and down his length with the hard, fast friction he loves.

“Ah, fuck,” he cries out. “I’m seriously going to–”

His last word is cut off when I push his cock into the back of my throat. I’m gagging because the angle is no joke – and sounded way easier in the damn book – but I keep going, his hot release shooting into my mouth in endless bursts.

I keep sucking until he’s spent, and he discards his swim trunks before sitting down and pulling me back on top of him.

“That was a hell of an apology,” he notes. “I hope we fight more often.”

I laugh, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him tightly. I never want to let this man go.

“I love doing anything with you,” I purr into his chest. “Even argue. You inspire me so much.”

“Ah, Belle, I’m no one to put on a pedestal.”

I nip his jaw and then kiss it. “You are. You’re going to change the world. I know it. After I sell my grandmother’s place and actually have some cash, I’ll make a difference, too.”

“Hey.” Adam waits until I look into his eyes. “You don’t need to be rich to make a difference. You already do.”

I wave him off. Rich people never think you need money to do things when they have no clue what it’s like on the other side.

“Belle, seriously. I’m not saying it’s not nice to have money. What I’m saying is you can change the world just by being you. Imagine if one little tyke in your reading circle falls in love with the written word and becomes the researcher who cures a once incurable disease. What if you have children one day and they rise to greatness because you instilled the desire in them, the belief in themselves? There’s a purpose to every existence, and if you help even one person find it, to chase their dreams, then you’ve changed someone’s world. What you’ve done has mattered.”

As sweet as everything he’s saying is, he doesn’t get it. Me reading to my story circle isn’t the same as the millions of dollars he can give to causes just because he feels like it.

“But you can throw so much money at problems. You can make a bigger difference,” I argue.

“You’re missing the point, princess. It’s not the scale of the change. It’s doing the work every day on every level. You could be the only adult who takes an interest in those kids, the only one who reads to them. The world can be a big, scary place, and you’re helping them fill their toolboxes.”

The earnestness in his eyes melts my heart. A mercenary with a gigantic social conscience making a difference in every way he knows how.

And believing in me to do the same, even when I feel inconsequential.

The conversation only lulls when I start to fall asleep on Adam’s chest, so comfortable and secure that I almost forgot what comes next.

All I want to do is dry off and go cuddle in bed with Adam, waking up in his arms in the middle of the night and convincing him that sex is more important than sleep.

But he won’t meet my sleepy gaze, and I know it’s not going to happen.

“You want me to leave, don’t you?” I ask with my stomach sinking to my feet.

“I don’twantyou to,” he returns.

“But…”

“Belle…”

“Bye, boyfriend,” I say, trying to keep my tone light.

“Is this a thing with your generation?” he asks.

---