The first touch of his tongue against my most intimate place drew a gasp from my lips. Different from the fullness of his member, this was precise, deliberate, almost delicate despite coming from such a fearsome beast. My breath caught as he found the sensitive bud at my center, circling it with surprising gentleness.
“Oh,” I breathed, my fingers clutching at the sheets beneath me. “That’s...” Words failed me as pleasure bloomed, warm andliquid, spreading outward from where his tongue worked its magic.
It felt too wonderful, each lap both soothing the tenderness and awakening a different kind of heat. My hips rose of their own accord, seeking more contact, more pressure. Beast obliged, his massive paws coming to rest on my thighs, holding me open for his attention.
A movement caught my eye, drawing my gaze downward. Beast had positioned himself with his hindquarters slightly raised, and beneath him, his member hung heavy and engorged, hanging out of his fur. As I watched, fascinated, one paw left my thigh and wrapped around his own length, beginning a steady stroking motion.
He was pleasuring himself while attending to me. The realization sent an unexpected thrill through my body. I couldn’t look away, even as he put his head back down to continue his thorough exploration of my core. My eyes remained fixed on his arm, the rhythmic movement, the way he’d pull from base to tip before sliding back down.
Did all men touch themselves this way? Gaspard certainly never had, at least not in my presence. Gaspard’s only concern had been his own gratification, achieved as quickly and brutally as possible through my body. He fisted himself to show me his length, but he never stroked it like this. Maybe his member wasn’t long enough to enjoy what Beast did right now.
But this, this was different. Beast sought his pleasure while ensuring mine, the two acts intertwined rather than separate.
The sight intoxicated me. My body no longer felt the need for rest, instead surging toward a new craving. I wanted to watch how he handled himself, to understand the mechanics of male pleasure in a way I’d never been allowed to observe before.
“Does that feel good?” I whispered, though I knew he couldn’t answer with words. “Touching yourself like that?”
He looked up briefly, those intelligent eyes meeting mine, before returning to his task with renewed vigor. His tongue moved faster, circling and flicking against my sensitive flesh with precision that belied his bestial form. His paw matched the pace, sliding along his impressive length with practiced ease.
The thought occurred to me suddenly. Could I please him this way? Could my hands bring him the same pleasure his paw was providing? The idea of wrapping my fingers around that hot, hard flesh made my insides clench with anticipation.
I reached down, my fingers tangling in the fur between his ears as his tongue delved deeper, tasting me intimately. The texture of it against my inner walls sent sparks of pleasure racing up my spine, each rough caress finding places within me I hadn’t known existed.
His musk filled my nostrils, heady and wild. Not the stale sweat of unwashed men from the village, but something primal and clean. The scent of forest and night air clung to his fur, reminding me of his dual nature. My gentle giant who could tenderly lap at my core, yet powerful enough to defend the forest from whatever darkness threatened it.
Our gazes locked again as he continued, the intimacy of it more intense than any of our previous couplings. This wasn’t just about claiming or mating. This was Beast—my Beast—caring for my pleasure, my comfort, my needs. The realization unraveled something deep inside me, some final reservation I hadn’t known I still held.
His tongue moved faster, my breathing quickened to match, and tension coiled tighter in my lower belly. The pressure built with each skillful lap, each careful probe. My hips began to move in counterpoint to his rhythm, seeking more, deeper, harder.
“Please,” I gasped, not entirely sure what I was asking for, only that I needed something more, something just beyond my reach.
Beast’s eyes never left mine as his movements intensified. I could feel his own excitement mounting in the increased pace of his paw on his member, the quickening of his breath against my sensitive flesh. He wanted this. He wanted to watch me fall apart under his touch, wanted to join me in that sweet surrender.
When it happened, it caught me by surprise. The tension that had been building suddenly snapped, pleasure crashing over me in waves that made my back arch and my thighs tremble. A sound I’d never made before tore from my throat, somewhere between a cry and a sob.
And then, something else entirely. A rush of liquid left my core, spraying Beast’s fur-covered face in a release I hadn’t known my body was capable of. Mortification flooded through me even as pleasure continued to pulse through my veins.
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, trying to pull away. “I didn’t mean to—”
But Beast’s reaction wasn’t what I expected. His eyes closed in apparent bliss, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he licked his muzzle. Far from being upset, he seemed to savor my release, as if it were the sweetest nectar.
He rose to his knees then, towering over me like some pagan god of pleasure. His member jutted proudly from its nest of fur, the skin glistening with its own moisture. Beast’s paw moved with inhuman speed now, stroking himself with an urgency that made my breath catch.
I should have looked away. Should have felt shame at witnessing such a private act. Instead, I couldn’t tear my eyes from him, fascinated by the raw masculinity of it, the unabashed pursuit of pleasure.
His climax, when it came, was spectacular. With a growl that seemed to shake the very walls, Beast’s seed shot forth in powerful spurts, landing on the floor beside the bed. The sight of it—thick, white, copious—made my cheeks burn with heat even as my body responded with a sympathetic clench of desire.
What level of debauchery had I fallen to? The proper village girl was long gone, replaced by this creature who watched a beast pleasure himself with rapt attention. Who welcomed his tongue between her thighs. Who found beauty in the primal act of release.
Yet I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. There was honesty in Beast’s passion that I’d never found in human company. No pretense, no shame, no using another’s body while denying their personhood.
As his breathing steadied, Beast lowered himself to the bed beside me. One massive arm pulled me against his fur-covered chest, enveloping me in warmth that had nothing to do with the dying fire in the hearth. I nestled against him, my fingers stroking through the silken pelt that covered his torso.
He smelled of forest and musk and sex, a combination that should have repelled me but instead felt like home. This time of night, when passion was spent and silence settled between us, was when he showed himself most gentle. More tender than any human man had ever been with me, more attentive to my comfort and well-being.
I buried my face in his fur, inhaling deeply. “Thank you,” I whispered, knowing he understood even if he couldn’t respond in kind.
His only answer was to pull me closer, one paw stroking my hair with surprising delicacy. The rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear grew slower, steadier as sleep began to claim him. But before I joined him in slumber, I found myself wondering again about those amber eyes we shared.
