Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel) (16 page)

An orgasm overtook her like an unexpected flash of heat lightning in the middle of an otherwise clear summer day.  Alena fingered herself furiously, surprised at the sudden gush of pleasure but wanting to prolong it as much as she could.  She shifted uncontrollably on the bed, leaving a line of slick arousal on the sheets wherever she moved.  Her orgasm flared up higher, reaching the pinnacle of delight, and she arched her back and stared mindlessly at the ceiling.  Her body bent to her will so wonderfully and she wanted more, but she couldn't continue.

She crashed onto the bed with a thud, falling limp, twitching.  The blankets scraped lightly across her clit, making her fidget at the pure sensation of it.  She lay there, confounded, but completely and utterly amused.

How had that happened?  So fast and quick and strange?  She didn't know, but she wanted to find out.

And then she remembered what she'd intended to do in the first place.  Slow, cautious, feeling like she should rub herself to climax once more but denying her urges, she made a smooth trail with her fingertip from the bottom of her slit to right below the hood of her clit.  Pulling her finger away before she changed her mind, she brought her hand to her mouth and licked at her own juices.

She tasted sweet and ripe like fresh-picked peaches.  Alena stuck her entire finger in her mouth and sucked away her arousal.  Swirling her tongue to taste all of it, not leaving so much as a drop, she lay languishing on the bed while enjoying her honeyed arousal.

She'd never done that before, and she'd never really thought to do it, either.  It seemed odd, but interesting. 

It was the plant, she decided.  The flower from before with its pleasing odor and shimmery pollen.  When it puffed the powder into her nose, it must have done something to her.  An aphrodisiac of sorts, some kind of pheromones.  Not only did they make her irresistibly aroused, but the sensation lingered in her body and made her feel devious.  She wanted to smear her slickness all over her slit and her stomach and coat her breasts in sticky arousal, then plump up her bosom in her hands and lean down and lick the liquid off her own chest, teasing her nipples with her tongue if she could.

She wanted to abandon herself to pleasure.  She wanted to stay in this bed, forever, and masturbate herself into a state of transcendental bliss.  She wouldn't just feel pleasure, she would become pleasure, and drift away to another place entire.  By her own magic, by the magic of her body, by...

Alena snapped herself back to reality.  No, that couldn't happen.  But, yes, it must be the plant.  When it filled her with its viscous nectar, it must have instilled something in her.  Fermenting, alcoholic and intoxicating, the honey-sweet sap had brewed inside of her and made her mind think strange thoughts.

This might have upset her, except Alena had a brilliant idea.  The rose, yes, she needed it.  She needed the petals and she needed its juice.  Her own sweet arousal was enough for a little while, but she needed more, and for quite a distinct purpose.  Ignoring her desires, tossing the covers up and throwing herself off the bed, she scrambled towards the bedside table.  The bottom drawer remained agape from before the plant had taken use of her body, from when she'd struggled to open it.

She peeked inside, hoping beyond hope to find what she thought was there.  Lowering her head to inspect it closer, looking in every corner, she knew it must be here.  The key that opened the floating glass container holding the rose had to be here somewhere.

Except it wasn't.

Alena cursed, enraged, and felt pangs of ecstasy shooting through her body.  Apparently it didn't matter what kind of excitement she felt, just as long as it was exciting.  She spasmed on her knees, barely managing to refrain from shoving a hand between her thighs and stroking her clit.  When the spasms subsided, Alena yanked at the drawer, frustrated.  She pulled the entire thing out and threw it against the wall, glaring at it as the front of the drawer broke off and clattered to the floor beside the rest of it.

Then, there, right in front of her, hidden on the floor beneath the bottom shelf, was the key.  Alena snatched it up quickly and hopped to her feet.  She wanted to shove the key inside her slit and between her folds and feel the cool metal against her hungry inner walls, but, no.

No, no, no, no.

She hobbled towards the glass display case in the closet.  Lowering the key to the keyhole, she managed to slip it in and turn it; though, oh, it was so dreadfully difficult.  Her hands shook, her whole body shook, and she wanted nothing more than to return to the bed.

She needed the rose, though.

With this rose, and the allure of her glistening folds, she could lure Everett into eternally loving her.  If he so much as licked at her slick slit, she knew he'd become drunk off the sweet taste of it.  More, more, he would need more, and Alena would gladly give it to him.  Anywhere, everywhere, with his head stuffed between her thighs and his mouth latched onto her pussy.

And she'd make a tea from the petals of the rose and offer it to him.  Once he drank, he, too, would know what she felt.  An uncontrollable urge for pleasure, except why must they feel it alone?  They needn't, she thought.  With both of them aroused, they should serve each other well.

She imagined herself laying back while Everett stared at her, drool dripping down his lips and onto her stomach and her chest.  His thick, protruding cock ready to slam into her folds, and in her mind he wasted no time doing it.  And while the rose affected him, his masculine cream would taste like the sickly sweet seed from the plant's vines.

A constant cycle, over and over.  When he stuffed her with his cum, she'd scoop it out and eat her fill.  Then, while they readied themselves once more, Everett could gorge on the slick arousal gathering between her legs.  They would feed one another in constant amorous pleasure until one or the other eventually ran out, and then, laying in a mess wherever they were, they would both feel eternal, constant, and endless love for one another.

Alena
would
win.  She plucked the rose from the now open glass case and tucked it behind her ear.  With this rose, no matter what her older sister, Danya, tried, Alena would overcome it and become Everett's sole mate.

They would marry, and have children, and fuck, and enjoy fine dining and fancy ballroom dances.  Carnal pleasure followed by culinary delight, and oh so much more.

Stealing away from the room, her feet pounding on the floor, Alena ran to find Everett.  Whatever happened, she needed to get to him before Danya did.

Pinem'e flew high above the trees.  He saw the mansion amidst the woods and descended towards it.  Landing upon a balcony ledge, the fallen angel ripped open the flimsy French doors and stepped inside.

Pinem'e surveyed his surroundings: a library.

Danya stood in front of a body length mirror.  The dress Taya made for her was beautiful.  Or, technically it was already sewn, but the alterations the seamstress did to fit it to Danya's form made it look wonderful on her.  She spun around, letting the skirt of the dress swish outwards.

Taya nodded her approval.  "Very good.  It's a lovely dress.  Not that you needed one.  I'm sure Everett wouldn't mind if you walked around naked, so long as you submit to his cock whenever he likes.  And speaking of..."

Everett stood in the doorway.  He looked less beastly now, though only slightly.  Shorter hair covered his body, and he had a smoother jaw than before.  If he shaved himself completely and put on a suit, she thought he might look like any other rugged gentleman.

"Danya, you," he said.  "Beauty."  He admired her for a moment, then said, "I need speak with."  Everett cleared his throat and furrowed his brow.  "I need to speak with you."

Danya stared at him, unsure.  Should she go to him?  Accept him?  Except why?  She needed him to realize that no matter what he used to do, she wouldn't be that for him.  She refused to acknowledge herself as some common breed mare for him to stuff his cock into and cum inside, no matter how much she enjoyed it.

"I don't care what you two do," Taya said, "but close the door on your way out.  I have a lot of clothing to finish.  Everything is ruined, and I have to mend it before the others come back alive.  Shoo, shoo."  The seamstress pushed Danya lightly, urging her towards the door.

Danya went.  The pale blue dress hung low to the floor, hiding the fact that she wore no shoes.  Taya was a seamstress, not a cobbler, so she couldn't help her there.  Danya walked past the exact dress dummy she'd just spent carnal moments with, glancing at it out of the corner of her eye, and then moved onwards towards Everett.

He held out a hand for her and she took it, letting him escort her out of the seamstress's studio.  Closing the door behind them, he walked her a short distance across the hallway towards one of the large mansion windows.

"Danya," he said, ogling her.  His hands grabbed her hips and he dug his fingers into the fabric of her dress.  Not enough to rip it, but it worried her.  He pulled lightly, lifting, bringing the skirt of the dress  up to just below her knees.  "Beautiful."

"Everett, stop," she said.  Placing a hand on his chest, she pushed him away.  Not hard—though it wasn't as if she could push this beast of a man away if he didn't want to move, anyways—but enough to presumably get her point across.  "No more.  I know what you're doing and I refuse.  I enjoy it.  I enjoy you.  But I won't let you use me.  I know Alena is here and I know what you've been doing with her."

Everett smirked at her, some beastly, wicked grin.  She held her hand against his chest trying to halt him, but he ignored her and pressed forward.

She couldn't hold him off.  To keep distance between them, she backed away.  Everett refused to let her go.  A predator stalking his prey, he backed her against the wall outside of Taya's room and leered down at her.

"Danya jealous," he said.  "I come to speak about Danya sister, Alena.  I understand.  Danya jealous."

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

It was difficult to figure out what he meant, especially when he kept pushing against her.  Her arm bent, hand still pressed against his chest.  His hot, heavy breath fumed from his mouth like thick smoke, fogging up her vision.  He grabbed her hips once more, but this time when she pushed against him he didn't let go.

"No," she said.  "Everett, stop.  You're using me and I understand it's to break your curse, but I won't.  You need to understand that..."

He pulled at the dress of her skirt, bunching it up in his fingers.  Inch by inch, up and up, he pulled her skirt away and revealed her calves, then her knees, the middle of her thigh, and further still.  He lifted it up, despite her protests, until he had a clear view of her bare crotch.  Everett stared at her slit, sniffing her arousal.

Why was she aroused?  Dammit!  She needed this to stop, needed him to understand, but her body refused to accept her wishes.  His fingers tightened on the dress, nails pressing hard against the fabric.  Everett wore nothing in terms of clothes, had no way to hide himself.

His cock slowly rose, twitching and growing and stretching.  She stared downwards, ashamed, watching his erection rise.

"Please," she said, begging him.  Begging him for what?  "Don't rip the dress.  Please don't.  We need to talk."

Everett nodded.  "I understand.  We talk."

He understood!  Yes, this was what she needed.  He must understand, of course, but she understood how it might be difficult for him, too.  Alone in the woods for all these years, seeking a mate, and it must have been a very hard life.

Thinking of how to explain the situation to him, Danya didn't realize exactly what he was up to.  Everett's hands cupped her ass and lifted her off the floor.  He stepped forward, pressing her back against the wall, holding her aloft.  His cock bounced up, tapping against her slick folds.  He lowered her onto his erection, quick and deliberately.  Only when he was halfway into her did she realize what he was doing.

"No!" she said.  "Everett, stop this.  I mean it!"

"We talk," he said, continuing to lower her onto him.  More, three quarters of the way, then entirely.  "You tell me.  We talk."

Danya shivered, too distracted by the pleasure to keep up her willful refusal of him.  He pushed forward more, closing the gap between their bodies.  The soft fur on his stomach tickled against her clit and caused her eyes to clamp shut as she bit her lower lip.

He lifted her off of him, then back down.  "What is it?" he asked.  "What is problem for Danya?"

"You don't—fuck!"  She couldn't concentrate.

"I fuck," he said, laughing.  "We fuck now."

He lifted her up and down his cock, using her for his needs.  Baring his teeth in some display of dominance, he growled at her slightly.  Her eyes shot open and she stared at him, wide-eyed.

"I want more," she said.  "I don't just want..."

"More?" Everett asked.  He held onto her ass firmly and thrust up into her while pulling her down onto his cock.  Faster and harder now.  More.

Danya trembled.  The corset of her dress held her breasts in place under normal circumstances, but as it was they jumped and bounced, smacking against each other with every thrust from his cock.  Everett's balls slapped against her ass, and his fur-covered abdomen caressed her clit.  She grabbed his shoulders and let out a string of verbal nonsense.

"What Danya mean?" he asked, never stopping.

"Fucking!  Dammit!"  This was too much; he was too much.  She felt herself losing control, felt her body betraying her further.  "I don't want to be your toy!" she screamed before the idea eluded her.  "I want to be something more!"

Her body thrashed against his and her legs kicked at his sides, frustrated and enraged.  Everett ogled her, leering at her bouncing breasts.  Leaning down and forward he licked her chin and her neck, scraping his rough tongue against her smooth flesh.  He thrust into her harder now, barely lifting her up and off his cock before pulling her back onto it.

"I want more, too," he said.  "I like Danya."