Belle #2
Belle woke to cold sheets. The absence of Beast hit her before her eyes even opened.
The space beside her was empty, the mattress cold where his body had been.
A faint ache slid through her chest, something she didn’t want to name yet, but she was pretty sure that she actually missed him.
That was impossible since they had only known each other for a couple of days now, right?
She pushed up slowly, hair tumbling around her face, the memories of the night before warming her from the inside out. His hands, his mouth, the way he held her like she mattered. Like he’d memorized every breath she took.
“Beast?” she called softly. There was no answer.
Belle slipped out of bed and padded down the short hallway.
A soft glow spilled from the kitchen, warm against the early-morning dark.
She rounded the corner and stopped dead in her tracks.
Beast stood at the counter, shirtless, the muscles in his back shifting as he poured himself coffee.
His jeans hung low on his hips, and his head was bowed like he’d been lost in thought.
He looked good—too good, too tempting, and if she played her cards right, he’d be hers, especially after the night they’d had.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked, voice barely above a breath. His head turned, and the second his eyes met hers, something in his expression snapped. He seemed to soften and darken all at once.
“Didn’t want to wake you,” he said. His voice was low, rough from sleep, and something deeper. “You looked peaceful for once.”
Belle crossed the kitchen slowly, her heart a steady ache in her chest. “You left,” she murmured.
“I needed a minute,” he admitted. “Didn’t want to push you. Or make you think last night was about anything but keeping you safe.”
Her breath hitched. “Beast,” she said softly, stepping closer. “Last night wasn’t an accident. I appreciate you wanting to keep me safe, but last night was about more than that—at least it was for me.”
He set his coffee down; his eyes locked on her like she was a storm he’d walk into willingly. “Say it, Belle,” he murmured. “Just tell me what you want. Tell me that you want me.”
Her fingers brushed his stomach, tracing his warm, exposed skin. She let them outline the hard lines of his muscles; she shouldn’t touch unless she meant it. He stilled under her hand, barely breathing, waiting for her to say what he needed to hear.
“I want you,” she whispered. “Completely. No backing off and no holding back this time.”
The sound he made was low, raw, and devastating. She was in his arms, his mouth finding hers with a hunger that stole her breath. His hands slid into her hair, down her back, pulling her against him like he’d been waiting years, and not just hours, to touch her and make her his.
Belle kissed him back with everything she had. The fear, the longing, and the need she’d tried to hide from herself were front and center. He lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist, and her world tilted ever so slightly off axis.
Her back met the cool edge of the kitchen table, and she gasped against his mouth. “Belle,” he breathed, forehead dropping to hers, voice wrecked. “Tell me to slow down.”
She shook her head, pulling him closer by the shoulders. “I don’t want you to slow down, Beast.” He exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding that breath all night, and kissed her again, deeper, hotter, the kind of kiss that made her toes curl and her pulse race.
His hands slid along her thighs, her hips, guiding her, grounding her, worshipping her in a way that made her tremble. Every movement, every brush of his skin against hers, every quiet groan he tried and failed to hold back only dragged her deeper into him.
“Sweetheart,” His voice broke on the word. “You have no idea what you do to me.” She did, or at least she had a pretty good idea of what she did to him because he did the same to her. She felt it in every shiver, every breathless sound, every slow, desperate slide of his hands.
The kitchen seemed to disappear, and her fear was gone. The whole world narrowed down to the heat between them—the way he held her, the way he whispered her name like he was afraid it might be the last time, and God, the way that he looked at her like he wanted to consume her.
Belle wrapped her hands around his jean-clad erection, and he groaned. “We’re wearing too many clothes,” he said. She nodded her agreement as she unzipped his jeans, causing him to hiss out his breath. He stood and smiled down at her. “You’re going to unman me, honey,” he said.
Belle went up on her elbows to watch as he finished the job for her, gasping when his impressive erection sprang free from his jeans.
“Your turn,” he said, giving her a wicked grin.
Beast made quick work of removing her pajamas, and within seconds, she was lying across her kitchen table, naked, and panting with need.
“Beast,” she gasped as he covered her with his body.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered into her neck, his voice shaking with the intensity of it all. “I’ve got you, Belle. I won’t let you go.”
And when he finally moved with her, against her, into her —gently at first, deeper, intoxicating, and even reverent —Belle’s breath hitched, her fingers gripping him like she might fall apart without him. She wasn’t sure how she could feel so much for a man that she had just met, but she did.
His forehead pressed to hers as they moved together with a kind of urgent tenderness that made her eyes sting with more than just pleasure.
He kissed her again — soft, deep, almost breaking — as they fell apart in each other’s arms, the moment washing through them, pulling them under in the sweetest way.
Belle cried out his name as he drove her over the edge, and Beast followed her over, panting out her name, over and over, like a prayer on his lips.
And when it was over, Beast didn’t let her go.
Not even for a second. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close on the edge of the table, their breaths mingling, their hearts still racing.
Belle’s lips brushed his cheek as she whispered, “You didn’t need to be careful with me.
” He huffed a soft, almost-laugh against her shoulder.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured, “I’m always gonna be careful with you.
But I’m never letting you go.” Belle closed her eyes, sinking into him.
She believed him, and for the first time in a long, long time, she felt safe.