Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel) (22 page)

"I'm not crying!"  She probably was crying, but what did he care?

"I needed to.  It was the only thing I could think of."

"Oh, is that it?" she asked.  "That's how all men are, aren't they?  I don't know what to do, so, sex.  That's it, isn't it?  You just can't think of a thing to help or do or believe in, and so you just want to fuck someone, because you feel like you're fucked.  Well, you know what?  I don't want to be fucked, Everett.  I want to be special.  I thought maybe I was, and I thought that despite everything I'd heard about you, and what I'd seen, that maybe I could convince you I was special, but obviously I'm not."

"You..."  He paused to think and scrunched up his brow.  "You are special.  What do you mean?  I never planned any of this to hurt you.  It's so hard to explain.  I don't know how."

"I'll explain it for you," Danya said.  "I saw you with my sister outside the dining hall window.  I would've appreciated it if you didn't have sex with her at all, but even doing so somewhere entirely away from exactly where I was would've been nice.  Did you think of that?  Of course not.  Every time you wanted to couple with me, you left afterwards, too.  Every single time.  Where were you?  With Alena, no doubt.  For your curse, right?  Oh, poor you, Everett."

"I might have felt sorry for you," she continued,  "except from what I've heard, you deserved it.  You think that women are your playthings, don't you?  You're worse than anyone ever, you know that?  I used to think Michael was terrible, but at least he makes his intentions known."  Mocking him, speaking in as gruff a voice as she could manage, she said, "I need," and finished by lewdly cupping her crotch like he'd done to her in the foyer when he first brought her here.  "Do you know how I feel right now about all of that?  I feel sick and disgusted for falling for your deceit.  I hate you."

Everett opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.  He didn't have time to think of any before that cursed woman from before came up alongside them, smiling in greeting.

"Hello," the woman said, more to Everett than Danya.  "Who is this?"

Danya turned on her; she was a woman scorned, enraged, and not at all happy.  "Who am I?  Who the hell do you think you are?  I don't like you, you... you unattractive and unpleasant wench!"

It was a lie, of course.  Or partly.  Who knew if the woman was unpleasant, but she wasn't unattractive, not in the least.  Danya didn't like her, though, and that was the only part that seemed pertinent at the moment.

The woman didn't care, though.  She smirked, some amused and entertained expression, then said, "I'm Beatrix, the witch.  The very same who cursed Everett into his beastly form, actually."

Oh, Danya thought.  And then she said it as well.  "Oh."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Beatrix said, curtseying.

Danya couldn't curtsey with Everett's hands on her waist and shoulder, but she wouldn't have anyways.  "You don't scare me," she said.  "Do you think that you can?  I don't even care.  I'm not.  Curse me and turn me into a frog.  It doesn't matter anymore."

"I don't want to curse you," Beatrix said.

"Then why are you here?"  Danya wanted her to go away.  She wanted everyone and everything to go away.  She wanted to huddle up in a corner and tuck her knees beneath her chin and sit there quietly and let her mind wander, contemplating everything and nothing.  She just wanted to be left alone, but she never had a chance at it.

At home, she didn't.  Here, she didn't.  With her family, she never had privacy when she needed it, and whenever Everett left her by herself here, she didn't want him to.  She felt spoiled and rotten for wanting something more, for wanting exactly what she wanted, but how could she want anything less?

"Everett is a fool and a cad," Beatrix said.  "He's not entirely intelligent most times, especially when it comes to women.  He's somewhat of an idiot in those regards.  Give him a sword or bring him out hunting and he's impeccable, but women are an entirely different breed of animal, don't you think?  Unfortunately, he's terrible at that, though he does have his charms now and again.  He's more than pleasant in a few ways."

"I don't want to hear this," Danya said.  "I already know he's awful but I don't want to hear about his... his abilities..."  His
charms
, how
pleasant
he was.  How skillfully he could thrust his cock inside of her wet and wanting pussy and bring her to the precipice of pleasure, and then over, while barely even trying.  Maybe he was good at sex, but that didn't make him a good person.

"While I profess I did enjoy myself while you were watching us, and I imagine Everett enjoyed himself as well, we were partaking in that endeavour as a means to hopefully revive a member of his household, Father Auguste," Beatrix added, "who should be able to exorcise us of some issues we're all currently having,"

Oh.  That somewhat made sense.  It still didn't make Danya feel any better.  If... if that was necessary, Everett could have come to her.  She would have let him, would have gladly accepted and allowed it and would have felt even more ecstatic knowing that they might bring an end to a problem through their coupling.  But... no, he hadn't.  He'd abandoned her, went to the first available option.  And if the witch, Beatrix, wasn't here, then what?  If Alena was closer, would Everett have gone to her instead?

"Well, you know what?"  She said this to Everett, not Beatrix.  She didn't want to speak to either of them, but she especially disliked the witch, regardless of her logical explanation.  "I gave Horatio a blowjob earlier," she said, matter-of-fact, smirking.  "Also, he gave me more than one orgasm with his magical kitchen implements.  And your dressmaker, Taya?  While she crafted this very dress that I'm wearing, I let her fuck me with a wooden dress dummy.  Also, Peter and I had sex in this wine cellar before the demon destroyed it.  I don't care one bit about you, Everett."

Everett frowned at her words.  He frowned and then he kissed her.  Placing one hand on the small of her back and the other near the nape of her neck, he bent forward and thrust his lips against hers.  Danya's lips parted in surprise and she let out a slight gasp, but he kissed it away.  She struggled against him once she regained her senses and pushed and slapped at his chest, but he refused to release her or her lips.

He kissed her with wild, reckless abandon and some primal, thoughtless lust and need.  It.. it seemed more than that, though.  It seemed aggressive, and yet scared?  Not a distinct, trembling fear, but a worry of loss.  A loss of what?  Her, of course, or that's what her mind wanted to think, but she couldn't let it.  It didn't make sense.  None of this made sense.

Barely a few days ago she'd been working away at her father's shop, blissfully unaware of all of this.  It bothered her, and the work was for nothing half the time.  Working just to stay alive, to sustain herself and her sister—and, while she hated to admit it, her father, too.  She hated it, hated all of them, but not really.  She hated that she hated them and she didn't want to hate them, but it hurt.  Everything hurt.  She just wanted something, some place, just for her.  She wanted someone to share it with, but no one ever wanted to share anything with her.

Everett kissed her, though.  He wanted her.  He
had
wanted her before all of this, too.  He knew about her and Michael in the woods, but that was before.  Everett had followed her, perhaps stalked her, and entered into her room without her knowing.  To sniff her panties, she remembered.  How silly and weird.  It made her want to laugh and cringe all at once.  He liked the scent of her?  It was somewhat erotic and arousing when she thought of it, though.  His primal, desirous nature sending a thrill through his body when he caught a whiff of her sex.

And his letters, his flower.  He sent them to her.  Not to Alena.  Alena existed, yes, and of course he'd fucked her, but... why was Alena even here?  She didn't know and hadn't talked with her sister since seeing her outside, but that part made little sense to her.

Everett kissed her and she kissed him back.  Grabbing at his forearms and digging her fingernails into his skin, she kissed him hard and with a longing she hadn't known existed.  Her nails pierced his new, softer and more sensitive human skin, sending thin rakes of blood down his arms, but neither of them seemed to care.

"I'm sorry, Danya," Everett somehow managed to say in between their fervid kissing.  "It's been so long.  I've been alone for so long and I couldn't bear it anymore.  I didn't think.  I let greed and lust control me, because I wanted to be human again, but I hurt you because of it."

Danya kissed him, kissed him again.  Licked at his lips and teased the lower between her teeth.  Then she pulled away from him and stopped, affected, shyly laughing.  "I've been sort of naughty, too," she said.  "I
am
upset at you, don't misunderstand, but I've done so many dumb things, also.  I know this sounds foolish, but sometimes everything is so difficult.  Life and everything and I just want someone to help me and to be there and I didn't want you to go away.

She felt stupid.  Stupid, yet hopeful.  Was this some ruse again?  Was she opening herself up to more pain and hurt and heartbreak?  Should she end this or proceed?  And then what?  Was that it, would she attain her happily ever after, or was it impossible now?

She didn't know the answers to any of that, but at least Everett seemed different. 
Different in a way
, at least.  Michael would never apologize to her.  No other man cared about her after she joined them in sexual dalliance.  They fucked her, and perhaps treated her nicely, but they didn't want more.  Everett said he wanted more, and he apologized, but was it real?  She didn't know if this was what she wanted or if she was setting herself up for destruction.

Before she could give away any chance at leaving, at freeing herself from the shackles around her pounding, clenching heart, before she could just spit out the words and tell Everett that perhaps she might want to love him, heavy footfalls rushed down the hallway.  The thick thuds of pounding boots against carpeted floors approached quickly, and within a moment's notice someone else joined them, breathing heavily.

Danya turned, then nearly fainted.  Everett, or someone who looked very similar to how he did now, stood there, hands on his thighs, catching his breath.

Beatrix raised one eyebrow.  "Dante?"

Everett frowned, then let Danya go and approached the man who might as well be his twin.  "Brother, what is it?  You've returned.  What's wrong?"

"The..." Dante said.  "A girl.  Alena.  With the demon.  She's..."

"Is my sister in trouble?" Danya asked.

The man nodded.  Having caught his breath, he stood up tall, shoulders squared and steady.  "She's safe for now, though I fear she won't be for long.  The winged creature rampaging through the manse has her in a situation unsuited for discussion in front of a lady's ears."

"Does she have the rose?" Beatrix asked, frantic.  She rushed forward and tugged hard at Dante's shirt sleeve.  "Dante, does she have my rose?"

"Yes," he said, nodding.  "Unfortunately, yes."

Alena's lips slid up and down the demonic figure's cock, moving easily now that she'd been doing this for awhile.  Her jaw hurt, but that seemed unimportant.  Why was she doing this, though?  She didn't know, but the idea of it, the mere thought of pleasing this ruddy skinned and rugged figure, aroused her so much.  The wet, slick lips between her legs pummeled her with blissful sensation whenever they slid together as she moved to better accommodate the cock in her mouth.

The demon before her wasn't fully satisfied though, oh no.  He grabbed at the back of her head and forced her onto his shaft.  She gagged in response, unable to take the entirety of him in her mouth, but this only seemed to goad him on.  Her strangled, choking throat convulsed and pressed around his cockhead, teasing and enticing him into further rough behavior.

It reminded her of an orgasm, as if her lower lips were kissing around his cock and her inner depths were clenching in ecstasy, except not.  Choking was dangerous, potentially lethal, and she knew this, but for some reason her mind refused to accept it.  Instead, she giggled, her body thrumming with excitement and her overstuffed mouth and throat humming around the demon's erect intrusion.

"Enough," he said, his voice reminiscent of a butcher slapping a thick slab of meat atop the chopping block.  "Pinem'e will sate himself inside of you, girl.  You shall know the insanity brought about by my angelic seed.  Truly, it is a gift."

So this man was an angel?  She wondered about that, because he didn't seem like any sort of angel she'd ever thought of.  Granted, she'd never met an angel before, and only knew about them from vague stories or imagined pictures but he seemed unlike any of that.  Forceful, rough, crude and unsettling.

He pulled her off of his cock and pushed her to the side.  Staggering on unsteady legs, Alena toppled sideways.  Pinem'e caught her, but only in order to flip her around and press her to the floor.  Pinned against the smooth wood of the ballroom, Alena struggled to move.

One of the demonic angel's hands pushed between her shoulders, keeping her upper body trapped against the flooring, while the other worked at spreading her legs.  Alena flailed helplessly, caught between fear and lust and uncertain of any of this.  What was going on and why did she feel like this?  She wanted him to thrust inside of her, to take her, claim her as his and fill her with his seed.  She wanted him to use her and abuse her greedy, wanton cunt with his thick, celestial cock.

She wanted all of this, but she didn't.  She wanted Dante to come back and she hoped they could go somewhere to talk.  She'd like to find a dress to wear, because it seemed entirely inappropriate to waltz through the mansion naked, especially when almost everyone else wore clothes.  The demon behind her, sliding his cockhead up and down her slick folds, he didn't wear clothes, but she didn't want to talk with him, either.

She wanted him to fuck her, rut inside of her, pound hard into her, break her.