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“It doesn’t fucking matter what I want. I will not go back on my word. Your father trusts me and I won’t fucking break that trust,” he replies, still stubbornly facing the other way.
“Even if you want me?”
“Especiallywhen I want you.”
“Then I’ll just have to give you something to think about.”
“What the shit are you talking about now?” he asks, as I lower my hand to my clit and start pleasuring myself. I gently finger my piercing, my toes curling at the instant sensation it elicits.
I’m already so wet.
Jesus, just thinking about Beast turns me on. The sheer fact that I’m naked, that he’s in this room with a boner for me, makes me crave him even more. It’s potent, the attraction between us, undeniable. The air crackles with it. I can practically feel it fizzing over my skin. Letting out a moan, I work my finger over my clit finding the perfect rhythm as I finger fuck myself.
“Fuck!” I hear him mutter. “Fuck, fuck,fuck! I need to go.”
“Stay.” It comes out halfway between a plea and a demand as he grips the door frame like he’s about to rip it from the wall.
“You won’t change my mind,” he bites out, but the need in his voice tells me he’s on the brink of breaking every promise he made to my father and probably a few he’s made to himself.
“Do you know how many times I’ve fantasised about you?” I ask, and when he doesn’t respond, I continue on. “So many times, Beast. I’ve touched myself like this hundreds of times imagining it was your thick fingers working me, your tongue tasting me, your cock—”
“Enough!” he roars, pushing off from the door frame and slamming my bedroom door shut, his chest heaving as he turns around to face me. Anger billows off of him, but so does lust. It’s as thick and as heady as my arousal. With my gaze fixed on him, my finger rubs in expert circles over my clit as I grasp my aching breast with my free hand, imagining it’s his hands touching me.
“I’m wet for you, Beast,” I say, dipping two fingers inside myself whilst pressing the heel of my palm against my clit, knowing that the barrier protecting both my metaphorical and physical innocence has long since disappeared. I’m not a kid. I’m a woman who’s comfortable with her body, with her desires and I’m not afraid to show that.
With my heels pressed into the soft bedding and my knees bent and legs spread, I show Beast what he refuses to claim for himself. If this doesn’t work, then absolutely nothing will.
All I know is that this is the last time I’ll throw myself at him.
The very last time.
“Beast, I want you. I wantyouto make me come,” I say, meeting his turbulent gaze with my own. “But if you choose not to, then you better believe I’ll find a man who’s willing to do what you won’t.”
Anger blazes in his gaze and I can’t work out if it’s because I’ve given him an ultimatum or the fact that I said that I will find another man to do what he refuses to.
Either way, he says nothing, doesnothing.
Instead, he stands like a sentinel, locking himself down. I literally see every single muscle in his body stiffen, his fingers curling into fists, his jaw locking tight. He becomes a witness to my pleasure, but refuses to be a part of it. So with his chest heaving, his angry gaze blazing, Beast watches me finger-fuck myself refusing to go back on his word to my father, and whilst I find that an admirable trait, it pisses me the fuck off because he’s denying himself something worth breaking his word for and I’m not just talking about sex. I’m talking aboutus.
So be it.
Stubbornly, and with a determination to get myself off, I use both hands to pleasure myself. With two fingers rubbing my clit, and two dipping inside of me, I draw out the pleasure coiling in my spine. Every part of my skin heats under Beast’s gaze until all too soon an orgasm rushes out from my centre in a wave so powerful I’m screaming out his name.
Even to my own ears it sounds broken.
He’ll never get to touch me now.
As my orgasm ebbs away, I slowly draw my legs together and open my eyes, focusing on the man before me. Beast’s gaze cuts me like a knife, and I feel the sharp pain of it deep inside my chest.
“It’s over. You have my word that I will never offer myself up to you again,” I say, climbing off the bed and pulling out a fresh set of underwear from my chest-of-drawers. I get dressed slowly, something inside shutting down with every brush of material over my skin. By the time I’ve pulled on my boots and strode over to him, I’ve shored up my defences and tucked away my disappointment. “Shall we go?”
He lets out a long breath, pushing off from the door then says, “I will kill any man who dares touch you.Understand?” Then he turns on his feet, rips open the door and storms out of my bedroom leaving me whispering my reply in his wake.
“Perfectly.”
