Page 68 of Beautiful Beasts

Fuck, even after six years, just her voice makes me fucking weak in the knees.

“Since when do you complain of being fucked by two? I think it is fair, very much so, you little brat,” I say through gritted teeth.

She laughs as I grab her hands and pull them over her head, pinning them down on the bed. I hold her wrists with one hand, tightening my grip and making sure she can’t fucking slip away from me. I reach down and pull the boxers down her body as she wiggles and laughs.

I love her laugh. For years, it felt like we didn’t get to hear it.

It has taken us six years to get to this point. Six years of healing and trying to move on from the past that almost damaged us for good, but we won. We made it out alive.

I lean down and bite her neck, causing her to scream and moan at the same time. I cup her pussy with my hand, her juices coating my hand. She is always ready and waiting for us to show her just how much we love her.

This Beauty is ours, and we will forever be her fucking Beasts.

45

Harley

Three Years Later

“Beauty And A Freak” by John Michael Howell

I slowly walk in the direction of the beach. Our wife goes there every night to get some alone time. She has finally been able to find some peace. We have chosen to become her peace just like I promised her we would the first time she fully gave herself to me.

I will never forget the night I told her all the promises we would keep out loud, and so far, we have been able to keep them. So far, the life we have given her, I believe, is coming close to what she deserves. We still have a lot to work on, but we have built a safety net for our wife and son in the past nine years.

We are no longer looking over our shoulders, and the nightmares, well, I think that is something we will have to live with for the rest of our lives. We all have different nightmares, but the reaction is the same.

Over the past year, they have improved for all three of us, but they still rob us of our sleep.

As I left the house, Dante was in the kitchen with Blake. He is trying to make homemade pizza. The mess alone is causing me anxiety, but it is nice to see my brother trying. I shake my head as I walk down the pathway.

Dante, Bella, and I have planted roses around the house and along the path down the private beach. Bella asked Dante to make sure that we brought some of the white roses that he planted for his mother here with us. Over the years, she has planted more and more roses, and when we asked her why she chose the colors she did, the answer hit hard. She explained that the red roses represented the blood, pain, and darkness of our pasts. The white roses represented the purity and love that Dante saw and felt with his mother and within her. But it was the addition of the pink roses that shocked us. She said the pink roses represent her acceptance of both sides of her. The darkness caused by a past she had no control over, the purity and love she thought she lost and was underserving of, and finally being able to see that both of those things helped her get to this place of love and acceptance.

Her confession brought about healing pieces of us that we didn’t know needed healing. It was easy to move and start over when Bella asked us to. We have always had more money than we knew what to do with, so it made sense for us to buy our own island. By having our island, we can control who comes on it, and we make sure that no one comes who is not invited. We made many mistakes before with her, with Gus; those are mistakes we will never fucking make again.

I walk out from the trees and see Bella sitting on the edge of the dock with her feet in the water and holding a book. I know she is rereading Fatal Vows. After all this time, it is still our favorite book, but Breathe into Me and beautiful Beasts is coming a close second.

She can find a healthy escape into the books that I can honestly say we are living, which is crazy to say.

I never thought I would live long enough to have a wife or children. Bella has given me two things I never thought I would be alive to have; she is the reason for me being alive. I know Dante would say the same thing.

She still doesn’t understand what she does to us, but we plan to continue showing her for the rest of our lives. I can promise that she will be loved and worshipped until we die.

I stop behind her, look down, and see she is reading beautiful Beasts. My heart races as I sit behind her, and she leans back against my chest without saying a word.

I rest my chin on her shoulder, looking down at the book. She is already at the end. “Baby girl,” I say softly. Her scent fills me as her warmth starts to warm me.

“Babe,” she responds softly. I love it when she calls me that.

“You okay?” I ask, needing to make sure. I always need to make sure.

“Yes, I am okay. You?” She asks, closing the book.

“Of course,” I say without needing to think.

“I love the ending of this book,” she confesses.

“Me too.”

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