He paused. “You gave me your word when I released your father. How can I trust you now?”
She looked over her shoulder at him, her hands still pressed against the cool marble table. “I don’t know. I don’t want to be your prisoner…forever.”
“Are you suggesting that if there were a time limit, you’d be able to truly give your word, that’d you stay?” Beast asked slowly. “If I didn’t ask for forever?”
God,
was he giving her a way out?
“Yes, Beast. I can tolerate anything if I know I’ll be back home soon, if I can hold onto that hope.”
Beast bared his fangs, and she cringed.
“Y-you’re smiling,” she said. It might take her a while to get used to that.
“I am. I have a proposition for you.” He gently smoothed her skirt back over burning bottom, and turned her around to face him. “I haven’t had a woman in my bed for a very long time. If you’d be willing to sleep with me, I’d reduce your lifetime imprisonment to one short year.”
Belle gasped, both at the idea of sleeping with him, and the idea of a life sentence being reduced to a year.
“You’d crush me to death,” she said, looking up at his towering hulk.
“I would not. Wasn’t I very gentle with you earlier, in your cell, when I made you feel so amazing, as you put it? Right before you—”
Right before she cut him and ran. Yes, she could recall something like that happening.
“It’s really not ‘willing’ if I must bed you for my freedom,” she pointed out.
“Forget I said anything,” he growled. “I’ll see you safely to your cell.”
“Wait!” She paused, frantic, not willing to give up her one chance of freedom. And also not willing to give up a very rational excuse for having more experiences like the one he’d given her earlier. “Three months. Then I can go.”
“Six months, and you do everything I say.”
“It’s—It’s a deal, Beast.” She sighed. “I’m yours for six months. And then you set me free and you forget all about me and my Papa.”
Beast smiled. Yes…definitely a smile. “I very much doubt I will ever forget you, beauty. But I’ll never harm you.”
Her thoughts immediately flew to her sore bottom, at the way he spanked her so thoroughly. Although, it was as he said. He’d hurt her, he had not harmed her. She would remember her punishment when she sat down for a day or two, but it wasn’t like he’d crippled her.
Or ate her. That was something to be grateful for.
Beast looked around his castle as though seeing it for the first time. “I suppose, if you’ll be staying awhile, we could arrange more suitable sleeping quarters for you.”
“In your bed,” she guessed.
“You’ll have your own suite.” He spoke louder, and Belle realized he was probably summoning the fairies. “Belle will need a suite, with a four poster bed, a bath, dresses in the armoire, and a fire ready for her.”
“The fairies can do all that?” she asked.
“Fairies?” He shook his head and began to say something, but it just sounded like growling to her.
“Pardon?”
“Never mind. If you’d like to believe we have a fairy infestation, then by all means. Believe what you will.” Beast gestured for her to follow him up the stairs and into the west wing of the castle.
She followed, mesmerized by the glorious tapestries and paintings that adorned the long hallways. Where had a beast gotten such wealth?
One oil painting, of a young man, about her age perhaps, caught her eye. His handsome face seemed to draw her in. Belle stopped in front of it, gazing at the portrait.
“He’s beautiful,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” Beast said. “I mean…I’m glad you appreciate the art in my castle.”
There was something familiar about the young man’s intense green eyes.
“Do I—do I know him?” she asked.
“Perhaps. You would have been a child when this portrait was taken.”
She looked at the inscription on the gold plaque beneath the portrait. It said “Prince Frederick,” and was dated ten years prior. That would have been when she was nine years old, and certainly never out and about, gazing into handsome princes’ green eyes.
“I suppose I don’t,” she said.
For some reason the thought made her sad. What had become of that young man? Perhaps the portrait was from another country. She’d never heard of a Prince Frederick before.
Beast kept walking down the corridor, so she followed.
“I imagine you ate everyone who lived in this castle,” Belle said. “That’s why they aren’t here, and…you are.”
Beast whirled around, and she was so caught off guard that she stumbled against his enormous chest.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped.
“That is not what happened.”
“The painting was ten years ago. Ten years ago, you changed. You told me so. I was merely…taking an educated guess.”
“There was nothing educated about it,” Beast said. “And if you’ll be staying under my roof for the next six months, you might want to reconsider playing guessing games if you want us to get along.”
She put her hand to her mouth. “I apologize.”
“We’re here.” He stopped in front of a large door, with the words “Belle’s Suite” etched into a small silver placard on the door. “If you need anything—”
“I’ll just ask the fairies,” she finished for him.
“Um, yes. Exactly.”
“Will I be sleeping…uninterrupted?” She blushed as she spoke the words, but she had to know if he’d be taking her up on their deal tonight.
“Dawn is almost here. Sleep as late as you’d like. I won’t bother you until you come to me.”
“But…what if I
never
choose to…come to you?”
Beast raised his heavy brow. “Your six months begins when you do. Take as long as you need.”
He held opened the door to her suite and she stepped inside, reveling at the sight of the large four poster bed with the flowing white linens, the glowing warmth of the fire burning in the fireplace, and most of all…the roses. They were everywhere, the scent beckoning her.
“Good night, beauty.”
***
Belle shut the door behind her, pressing her ear to the wood until she could hear the Beast’s heavy footsteps continue down the hall. The suite was far more luxurious than even the home she’d lived in with her Papa, before he lost all of his wealth. She went to the bath, which was already filled with steaming hot water. Rose petals floated on the top of the water.
With a heavy sigh she removed her dress and sank into the tub, grateful for a chance to wash off the insanity of the night so she could start fresh. She smelled like hay from the cell, and had dirt on her legs from falling in the woods. The water soothed her aching buttocks.
That Beast knew how to spank.
She took her time washing herself, washing her hair, and combing it out. When she was done, she slipped on a white nightgown. It fit perfectly.
“Thank you, fairies,” she said. She paused. “May I have more wine, please?”
A single glass of red wine appeared. No bottle. Oh well, that would have to do. Hopefully it would put her to sleep and keep her from dreaming about all the terrible, sinful,
wonderful, intoxicating
things that Beast had done to her. And what more might be in store…
3: Frederick
In his room
down the hall, Beast collapsed onto his bed. The mattress sank in under his massive weight. Had he done the right thing, agreeing to keep Belle only six months? Surely that wasn’t enough time to get her to see past his appearance, forgive him for taking her captive, and fall in love with him.
There was too much to accomplish, in too short a time.
Also, the cut on his chest burned like fire.
“I need a washrag and ointment,” he said, not bothering to lift his heavy head from the pillow.
The items appeared, and he tended to his wound. But it still hurt like hell.
“Laudanum, please,” he said. The opium tincture appeared, and he sipped a bit of the bitter medicine. He took care not to abuse the potent drug, but with a fresh wound, he knew he’d be tossing and turning without it.
His sleep was quiet, dark, and deep. In his dreams, he was no longer a Beast. He was himself. He was Frederick.
And he still had a captive to attend to.
***
Belle woke gently, or perhaps she didn’t wake at all. A light caress ran along her arm.
Beast?
She opened her eyes. It was a man—a man in her room. “Who are you?” she gasped. “What are doing here?”
She bit down on her first instinct—to scream for the Beast to come to her rescue. Doing so wouldn’t make much sense, since the last thing she wanted was the Beast in her suite.
The intruder—the man—said nothing, he just looked at her until she recognized him…from the portrait. The beautiful young man with the amazing green eyes.
Just a dream, then
. That was good. To dream and know she was dreaming meant she could do whatever she wished, and awake unscathed.
“Hello, beauty,” the Prince said, settling next to her on the bed. “I saw you looking at my portrait.”
“I did,” she whispered, the way she often did in the dark.
Normally, she would be absolutely shocked for a stranger to sit on her bed—but this was only a dream, and so she welcomed it. Welcomed
him
.
“Do you find me handsome?” He kissed her neck, igniting a spark of desire.
Just a dream…none of mattered if it wasn’t real.
“Yes.” Boldly, she reached out and touched his clean-shaven face, and stared into his eyes. Familiar eyes.
“Is that very important to you?” he asked.
What a strange question! “I don’t know,” she murmured. “I
am
glad you’re here. It’s nice to see another person, if only while I sleep.”
“My name is Frederick.”
“Frederick… Am I being haunted?” she asked.
Because while he was touching her, running his hands over her body, ahh…it didn’t feel so much like a dream. It felt real. It felt… incredible. Did ghosts feel real?
“In a way, perhaps I am haunting you,” Frederick said. “Don’t be afraid. The Beast is good. He didn’t eat me, Belle, if that’s what you think.”
“Are you imprisoned here, in the castle?” she asked. “Like me?”
Frederick smiled. “I am.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew the handsome Prince onto her, relishing the weight of his body on hers. Surprising that she could feel the weight of a ghost, or a dream, or whatever Frederick was.
“One moment,” she gasped, sitting up. “Are you actually a prisoner in this castle, and did you find me, and are you about to ravish me? Or am I dreaming?”
“Yes.” Frederick smiled, beautiful straight white teeth that didn’t frighten her exactly—not the way Beast’s fangs did.
“Y-yes?”
“Yes, to all of it.” Frederick kissed her long and deep, his tongue dancing with hers.
Belle moaned with passion as his kisses left her lips, traveling down her neck, to her breasts. She tore at her nightgown to give him better access.
She only prayed this was really a dream.
Who cares?
She was a captive—none of it would be her fault, surely. When she got back home she’d just pretend none of it happened. As long as she was enjoying the experience, why deny herself?
And oh my goodness, she was enjoying herself.
“Belle,” Frederick whispered, his breath hot against her nipple. “You must try to love the Beast. Don’t be so afraid of him.”
“I could never love the Beast, Frederick,” she said. “Never.”
Frederick sucked her nipple into his mouth and she gasped in delight. No one had ever done that to her before. The feeling was…otherworldly.
“That disappoints me,” Frederick said. His mood seemed to darken. “I should…I should go.”
“I can’t change my answer,” she said. “But will I see you again?”
“If I’m to survive, yes,” he said. “Please, Belle. Go to the Beast. Don’t be afraid.”
“He—” she blushed, unsure if she could reveal what had happened, even to a ghost. Or a dream-man. Or a prisoner in the castle intent on making her think she was insane.
Whomever
the handsome man with his mouth on her breast was.
“The Beast
spanked
me, Frederick. Like a naughty child. It was humiliating.”
Frederick grinned. “You’re looking at it the wrong way.”
Belle frowned. “Is there any other way to look at it?”
Frederick dropped his hand to her ass, caressing the tender skin through her nightdress. “I think he quite enjoyed the experience. Having that luscious bottom under his hand, watching it pink up with heat.”
Belle laughed. “I could imagine
you
enjoying yourself, then.”
“There are ways to enjoy submitting to the Beast. Don’t be so frightened of new experiences.” He gave her bottom a firm squeeze, and she gasped. “Perhaps when you’re healed, you’ll allow me to spank you. I’ll make you love it.”