She shifted, barely a breath of movement, and her lips brushed his jaw—accidental and sleepy. Beast sucked in a sharp breath. “Belle,” His voice was low and sexy, the kind of sound that made warmth pool deep in her belly.
Her eyes blinked open, and the world around her was hazy as she tried to adjust to the dark. That’s when she saw his face inches from hers. Belle could see the tension in his jaw, the tightness in his breath, and she realized how tangled up they were.
But she didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers curled into his shirt, gripping it like she needed the anchor. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, voice soft and raspy from sleep. Her hips stayedpressed to his side, giving her away. “I must’ve gravitated to your side of the bed in my sleep.”
His thumb brushed the bare edge of her waist, warm skin met warm skin, and she shivered. “Not complaining,” he murmured. “Are you?”
Belle felt her cheeks flush even in the dark. She shook her head. “No.” Her knee slid a little higher without her meaning to, brushing his impressive erection, and she gasped. The moment her leg made contact, Beast exhaled—harsh but controlled—his forehead dropping gently against hers.
“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he whispered. The words sent a rush of heat through her that made her breath stutter. Belle tilted her head, just slightly, following instinct more than thought.
Her lips grazed his jaw again—soft, deliberate this time.
“Beast,” she whispered, her mouth brushing his ear. “I feel safe like this. It feels right to be with you like this.” Her hand slid up his chest, fingers tracing the lines of muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. She felt the way his body tensed under her touch, and she felt the heat rolling off him in waves.
“Belle,” he breathed, his thumb stroking higher along her waist, slow and reverent. “Tell me to back off, and I will. Just say it.” He almost sounded as though he was begging her to tell him to stop, but she wouldn’t. She lifted her face, and their noses brushed. Her lips parted, and her breath caught as she brushed her lips against his.
“I don’t want you to back off, Beast,” she admitted. A low curse rumbled from his chest, soft, rough, and hungry, and that sound nearly undid her. She learned in first as their lips met in a soft, warm kiss—tentative but charged, a spark that lit instantly. Belle felt the way he froze at first, trying to hold himself back, then the moment he gave in. He kissed her deeper, slow but intense, like he’d been starving for a taste of her.
Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she shifted, sliding fully on top of him, straddling his thigh without thinking—without wanting to stop. Belle shamelessly ground herself against his big thigh, needing to find her release more than she needed her next breath.
Beast’s hands clamped onto her hips, holding her in place, his groan vibrating against her mouth. “Sweetheart,” he murmured between kisses, the words rough with need, “you keep moving like that, I’m gonna lose every bit of control I’ve got.”
Belle pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. She could see his hunger for her, but she also saw his restraint. She didn’t want him to hold back with her—she wanted all of him. Her voice trembled, but not from fear. “Maybe I don’t want you in control.”
Heat flashed across his face, dark and fierce, and for a second, she thought that she had pushed him too far and asked him for too much. She was about to tell him to forget everything that she had just said when he cupped her cheeks gently, his thumbs brushing her skin like she was precious.
“We go slow,” he said, voice thick with want. “You’re scared. You’re exhausted. You’ve been through hell. I’m not taking advantage of that.”
Belle’s heart squeezed as she leaned into his touch, letting her forehead rest against his. “I don’t feel scared right now,” she whispered. “For the first time in weeks, I feel safe and wanted.” His eyes softened as some of his worry seemed to disappear. He kissed her again—slow, deep, and reverent like he was promising something without saying a word.
When they finally separated, breathless, warm, and trembling, Belle lowered herself onto his chest, her fingers still knotted in his shirt like she couldn’t let go even if she tried. Beastwrapped both arms around her, pulling her close, his breath brushing the top of her head.
“Sleep,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “I’m not going anywhere.” Belle sighed, sinking into him completely, her body settling into the safest place she’d known in ages. She drifted back to sleep with his heartbeat under her ear.
Beast stayed awake long after she did. She could feel it in the steady tension of his arms around her even as she faded out, and some part of her knew that whatever line they’d crossed tonight, neither of them would be stepping back over it. Not now. Not ever.
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.
