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It takes a single touch at her gorgeous, shapely thighs for Elle to spread them. She rises on tiptoes, her feet slipping out of the slippers. The next time I readjust my stance I hit one with my foot, and it slides beneath the table. I do not care to see it again. I only care to get my hand between her thighs and stroke flesh I know will already be sodden.
She is as wet and ready as she was in the bed and lifts her hips into my touch, moaning softly. Elle moves, and I glance up to see that she has pillowed her arms on the table and leans her forehead in, seeming lost in the sensation of my touch, though I have given her only one stroke. I drag three fingers through her sweet arousal again, teasing at her opening and then searching out the swollen nub of her clit. Desire builds as I listen to her moans grow louder and her thighs begin to tremble with her impending orgasms.
My pulse beats in my ears, a feeling of deep shame surfacing and falling away. The terms I offered Elle were selfish, but the way I drag pleasure out of her is even more so. I want to sink in her and be enveloped by the evidence of her desire. I want her to work her hips back to take more of my cock, her hunger to be stoked higher than any fire in the castle.
Elle cries out, lifting her head, her back a beautiful arch amid the wrinkled silk of her dress. I release her hip and shove her dress higher until I can see the delicate curves of her shoulder blades working as she rides out an intense orgasm. I recognize the pitch of Elle’s voice as she moans, beginning to come down.
She wants more pleasure.
“Yes,” I say, half to her and half to myself, guilt at my selfishness mixing with the unavoidable sense of relief. She is enjoying it. She wants me. She needs me even. My body has ached for this, and the beast has snapped and growled for this since we came upon Elle sitting in that swing, the shawl around her shoulders. “Yes.”
I bend over her, my hand working once again over her clit. Elle throws her head back as I fold myself over her and lick the side of her neck. I find the place on her shoulder where I bit her before and press my teeth into the flesh, drawing a gasp from Elle that turns into a low moan. She begins to come again on my fingers, her pussy so hot and wet that moving my fingers at all causes them to enter her. Elle thrusts her hips back, taking two of my fingers inside her, and I push in, pressing and stretching into her to prepare her for what’s to come.
She clenches sweetly around my knuckles, her channel tight and hot and responsive. Elle moves her hips with more urgency now and I put my hand on her hip again, holding her in place where I want her while still allowing her to rock on my fingers. Each gasp that slips from between her lips is answered with a soft whimper or moan. None of her sounds form words, but the plea is clear enough.
I need her higher. The angle of the table is not right for me to fuck her bent this way, so I take her hips in both my hands and lift her. Elle scrambles onto the table on all fours, her dress falling around her shoulders. When she regains her balance, she tips her head back again, her hair and the black silk of the blindfold spilling over her back.
Fucking gorgeous.
I fumble for the ties of my breeches, nearly snapping them in my haste. The laces come undone under fingers that feel more like the beast’s than my own. I plunge my hand into my gaping breeches and take out my cock. It’s hard and pulsing, already leaking precum at the tip, and I drag it through Elle’s folds, trying to steady my breath.
She makes a low, pleading sound, pushing her hips back into my hand. Though she has come twice, her opening still feels tight, and I position the head of my cock at her center. The feeling of her hot, wet pussy against my skin is almost enough to bring me to orgasm before I’ve entered her. My vision darkens under a wave of pleasure I am granted only by touching her and feeling her slick warmth coat the head of my cock. I have been isolated for so long that even with wringing pleasure out of her earlier, I still crave it like nothing I’ve ever desired before.
Elle wriggles her bottom, arching lower so her opening begins to take in the head of my cock. I release a groan that turns into a growl, fighting for control. The animal in me wants to pin her roughly to the table and fuck into her deeply and mercilessly, showing her once and for all who has dominion over her body, but the prince in me, turned beastly by so many years of loneliness, desperately wants to be inside her, lost in the presence of a pure, innocent heart.
Of course I want to claim her, too. Of course I want to show her how she belongs to me.
I push forward, enveloping myself only an inch. Elle gasps and throws her head back again but this time her fists clench. Her first. Her only. I savor the moment. I bury my fist in the dress at her back, catching the blindfold, and hold tight, not pulling hard because I do not want any damage done to her delicate neck but adding tension to keep the intoxicating arch of her body where I want it. Elle trembles, her hands opening and closing on the table, and pants, her cunt fluttering around me with every breath she takes.
I place both my hands on her hips and push forward one more inch, drawing another gasp from her lips. Her whimper is delectable.
The feel of her is so tight and so hot, surrounding my cock in the sweetest flesh I could have imagined, and I manage to take her slowly one more inch before I can no longer hold the beast at bay. I do not know if I am even trying when he seizes control of my body and drives into Elle, sheathing my cock to the hilt.
Elle leans into it, bracing herself as much as she can against the table, her cries and moans echoing in the room as I fuck her ruthlessly. Her pussy ripples as she orgasms again.
Her skin is already reddened underneath my fingertips. There will be bruises when I am finished, but I cannot stop. I do not want to stop. I want her here with me, claimed, marked with my seed. The beast urges my body into Elle, his vision narrowed to her lithe frame on the table and the pool of silk around her.
My cock pulses as I near my release. Elle moans and cries but does not pull away. She moves her hips back, trying to take more of me, though I am already buried in her as deeply as I will go, and her body cannot accept more.
I would never have thought she would bend so easily and accept my girth with cries of pleasure. I can hardly see when she clenches down around me, so tight my cock is nearly strangled. I pulse inside her, my length growing thicker, and I cannot stop the feral growls that issue from between my teeth. There is no point in battling the beast now. He has taken over fully and will not be sated again until he has had his fill, and I am too caught up in Elle’s pleasure to care.
My release erupts out of me with a cry that shakes the castle. Elle’s cunt milks me until the last of my hot release has spilled deep inside her. I emerge slowly from the depths of pleasure.
I made bruises on her skin.
When I can see well enough, they stand out, stark on her hips. My vision continues to clear as the beast pulls back, content on claiming our beauty.
The mess of Elle on the table, my release dripping from between her legs tinged with blood from her virginity, is like a sword to the chest. As my selfish satisfaction grows, so does my guilt. The two sensations are like the prince and the beast, jostling for space and never having enough for the two of them. Because there is only one body. There is only one way to be righteous and moral and it is not to be a beast, yet I have no choice and cannot think of anything else when the scent of her is all over me and her pleasure is heavy in the room.
What have I done?
ELLE
I’ve never felt so light and yet so heavy. So at peace and ease and yet consciously aware of what’s been done and what cannot be taken back. I’m warm everywhere in my body when the beast pulls away. The feeling of hot, wet release between my legs captures all my attention for a moment and I struggle to catch my breath. My muscles shake, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of sensation he poured into me. It is hard to think in this state, but gradually I become aware that he is breathing roughly, as if something’s wrong.
Magic instantly surrounds me, soothing the thought out of my mind. He cannot have been unhappy, because I heard the sounds he made as he took me as well. I heard the relief hidden in the feral growls. It was as if he had been caged for many years and had finally been set free.
I will admit, I feel the same. The pulsing pleasure that remains between my legs feels entirely new and I am relieved, though it takes me several moments to figure out why.
