Chapter 7

 

The beast made no move—not to ravage her, not to attack.

“Who are you?” Gabrielle asked.

His shoulders heaved. He seemed to get bigger with every breath.

“Are you some kind of sex surrogate?”

No response, except from his cock, which levitated like the floating woman in a magic show. Any sensible person would be freaking out, but Gabrielle couldn’t help wondering about this man. Was he trapped too?

“Are you a patient?” she asked. “Like me? Are you an addict?”

Still no verbal response, but his breath rattled in reaction.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” she said. “They thought I was someone else and I went along with it because I figured I’d be singing karaoke with celebrities. Guess not, huh?”

Was there a smirk underneath that beastly mask? Did he think she was silly, or did he think she was cute? Did he even believe her?

“Oh crap!” Gabrielle jerked forward, forgetting momentarily that she was strapped to the bed. “What day is it? Do you know, or does she keep you locked up in a room with no windows too?”

Why did she think he would answer?

“I just remembered I have concert tickets for Thursday night. It isn’t Thursday, is it?”

He looked away. That had to mean something.

“The band is called Juice. Have you heard of them? They do that song, Wake Me Up.” She sang a few bars, and then her voice cracked and she wondered why in the world she was singing in front of another human being. “Anyway, it’s not a big concert. Just a little… well, I guess it doesn’t matter as long as I’m trapped.”

By the look in his eyes, it seemed like he was concerned about her.

“I guess you can’t get me out of here, huh? What would happen if you undid the Velcro and let me go? I’d be naked, but better naked and free.”

For the first time since he’d entered her room, the beast turned his head. He did it so slowly and so deliberately that Gabrielle knew he was trying to tell her something. What was he looking at? There was nothing on the wall but that weird, warped mirror.

“Oh my god,” Gabrielle whispered. “She’s watching us.”

The beast met Gabrielle’s gaze and held it. She knew what he was telling her: that was a double-sided mirror, like they have in police stations.

“Will you get in trouble if you don’t do what she’s expecting? Does she hurt you?”

This time, Gabrielle didn’t know how to read the look in the man’s eyes.

“I don’t get what’s going on here. Are you her partner or her captive?” She waited a moment, and when he didn’t answer she asked, “Why won’t you tell me? Can you talk?” A terrible through occurred to her and she gasped. “She didn’t cut out your tongue, did she?”

He said nothing.

“Did she?”

Slowly, the beast descended to his knees.

“What are you doing?”

He gazed across the terrain of her body. When he opened his mouth to reveal a thick pink tongue glistening and ready to please her, she didn’t care that she was held captive. She felt, somehow, that he would protect her from himself.

“What are you doing?” she asked again, though she knew he wouldn’t answer.

A new pulse beat between her legs—a familiar sensation, yet not identical to the violent throb she’d felt before. Before, the drugs in her system had made her want him. Now the drugs were gone and something innate took over. Desire.

Maybe Suzanne’s desire could be classified as a beast, and perhaps this therapy would have helped her, but Gabrielle’s desire had always been gentle. Madame’s elixir had brought on a rough sort of pounding beneath her flesh. That wasn’t her.

This was different. As the beast approached, she ached to feel his velvet tongue against her naked flesh. Her body was a gaping wound and his mouth held the salve. She wanted him so badly her nerves jumped in anticipation. Every twitch made her want him more.

“Please,” she whispered. “I know Madame said take our time, but please, please…”

As he held her gaze, his stunning chestnut eyes mirrored her desire right back at her.

“We’ve taken enough time. We’ve talked. Well, I talked. Wasn’t that enough to show her I can control myself, or whatever I’m supposed to be proving right now? Please, just… please…”

Tears welled in Gabrielle’s eyes and she blinked them away. The man, the beast—he approached her so slowly she itched to feel his kiss between her legs. She ached to feel his kiss on her lips, too. Would he do that, or was kissing not part of the therapy?

“Please…”

He stared between her legs and, though she wondered what thoughts might be flitting through his mind, she wasn’t embarrassed. Normally, she’d have felt humiliated. A man looking at her down there? Gazing at her pussy with undying lust? The idea of anybody else doing this in a bright white room would have turned her into a squirming bundle of nerves.

But with the beast? With this man who’d been assigned to represent desire? With him, Gabrielle felt proud of herself. Proud of her body. He was probably thinking how luscious and pink and prepared it looked. Prepared for action. And it was.

“Please,” she said, whining this time, like a child begging for candy. She wanted to keep that sweet pleasure all to herself, and she looked him plain in the face, telling him so with her eyes.

The beast mask aside, this muscled creature made for an intensely appealing man. Gabrielle felt attraction in her mind and her body as he bowed between her legs. When his tongue met her wanting flesh, she nearly lost her mind. Funny, that she could be taken captive and tortured by Madame and still retain her sanity, yet the touch of one man’s tongue could put her over the edge.

Truly, she’d never felt anything like it. His tongue sat indescribably warm against her skin. When he ran that thick pinkness the length of her pussy lips, she craved more. If her hands had been free, she’d have grabbed him by the hair and, with all her strength, held his head between her legs.

But no chance of that, not with her calves bound in stirrups and her arms Velcroed at her sides. She wiggled on the gurney, suddenly overtaken by a need to move, to get up, get out of this position.

“Please,” she said. “Undo my arms. Undo my legs. Set me free.”

His hands rose at his sides, as if independent of his powerful body. They landed on her hips, pressing her down on the bed. When he touched her, a spark ignited. If she thought she’d been on fire before, that burning sensation had nothing on this one.

“Oh yes,” she pleaded. “Lick me. Keep going. It’s so good, feels so good.”

She wondered what to call him. My beast? My captor? My cellmate?

But when his hot tongue landed across her begging slit, her mind crumbled to dust. She had no thoughts but thoughts of him. His heat, his passion. Softness and strength. She melted under his tongue. It was everything she’d ever wanted.

Almost.

“Oh, please!” If her hands hadn’t been bound at her sides, she’d have slid them up her body and squeezed. “Please, more!”

The beast must have read her mind, because his hands followed her mental trajectory, drawing heat from her belly to her breasts. As his mouth latched fully to her pussy, his hands sculpted her tits. He found her nipples with his thumbs and forefingers and pinched while his hot tongue went wild against her clit.

Gabrielle melted in his mouth. When he sucked her pussy lips, her clit, everything en masse, she raised her hips off the gurney as high as she possibly could. “Oh god… oh god!”

She fed him her cunt and he savoured it in every way possible—sucking, suckling, nibbling, biting. He licked her slowly, up and down. He licked her fast, concentrating on her clit, making her feel itchy on the inside.

But nothing beat the feeling of his whole mouth on her whole cunt. When he covered her completely with his warmth and his tongue escaped to some place interior and he sucked her like a vacuum, she couldn’t help herself. She screamed. More than screamed. She hollered, she howled, she grunted and growled and forced her pussy against his face.

Escaping his succulent hold on her, she rubbed her wetness all over his lips. The bristling hair of his strange mask tickled her thighs, though not in a way that made her laugh. How could she laugh when the man between her legs looked so wild? If she didn’t know better, she’d call this attack mode. But she’d seen this man’s attack mode. She’d experienced it before. This was something altogether different.

Could this even be called licking? He growled as he went at flesh swollen with the arousal he’d created. When she watched him between her thighs, he looked more like an animal tearing into its prey than a man giving a woman pleasure. And, strangely, there was something about the sight of him consuming her this way that brought her right to the brink of orgasm.

It felt so good, so good…

“Yes… please… more!” She found herself panting with pleasure, wanting so badly to place her hands on his golden shoulders that the pressure became unbearable. Look how huge they were, how muscular, how slick with sweat. She formed her hands into fists and bore up on the Velcro straps until her abdomen quivered. “Please! Please!”

Growling, he ran his hands down her body and splayed them over her pussy, opening her lips to expose the engorged pink inside.

“Yes!” she encouraged. “Yes, do it. Make me come!”

He could easily have leaned in and brought her the most outstanding orgasm she’d ever experienced.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he pressed both hands on her needy pussy and rose to his feet. Wow! Going down on her obviously turned him on, because the cock that had been half-hard at best when he’d descended was now full and fat and dripping with pre-cum.

She stared as its huge helmet parted her pussy lips and slid in the slippery wetness they’d produced together. She was wet with more than just his saliva. And though her cunt was surely glossy enough for an average-sized cock, the beast’s erection was so thick it stretched her to the limits.

Gabrielle tossed her head to one side as the beast thrust his cock in her cunt. “Oh GOD!”

He grunted as he rammed her. She didn’t know where to look. When her gaze settled on their reflection in the mirror, a strange voyeuristic arousal spread across her skin. Her breasts bounding with every breath. And the beast! His muscles clenched and released with every push. What an ass on that guy! Look how tight, now defined, how golden and slick. She just wanted to take a bit out of it.

“Oh god!” she cried as he bottomed out in her tight cunt. His bulbous tip pounded at her limits, which would have hurt in any other context. Here she was tied into stirrups, robbed of free motion. The pain could have been much, much worse.

When he mashed her clit with both palms, she couldn’t contain her screams. Her pussy was so swollen that the pressure sent tendrils of hot pleasure through her body.

“Yes!” she screamed, watching them both in the mirror, trying to avoid her orgasm face and focus instead on his.

What did he look like under that mask?

Would she ever find out?

Grunting, he slammed between her legs. His big balls recoiled off her sensitive skin. He traced his nails down the outsides of her thighs as he howled like a werewolf.

“Yes,” she panted, watching a pained expression of bliss take over his face. “Yes, yes, yes…”

His nails weren’t long or particularly sharp, but they left red marks on her skin nonetheless. Her chest was red, too, from exertion. So were her cheeks, when she met herself in the warped mirror.

Oh god… the mirror!

Had Mme de Villeneuve been watching all that time? Gabrielle had totally forgotten the beast’s suggestion that it was two-way glass. Her cheeks bristled with humiliation. Sure Madame had tortured her sexually—mechanically and manually—but it felt entirely different knowing she and the beast had been caught engaging in such satisfying sex.

As he pulled his cock from her grasping cunt, Gabrielle whispered, “Is she watching? Do you know? Is Madame behind the mirror?”

He stood between her legs, saying nothing.

“Can you speak? Can you say something? Anything?”

Nothing. No response.

And to think she’d earlier been on the verge of telling him her deepest, darkest secret. His unresponsiveness made her angry enough to shout, “Come on, just say something!”

He looked away and grunted.

“Tell me who you are. Why are you here? Why are you doing this? Are you one of Madame’s monkey butlers?”

Before he could catch himself, the beast burst out laughing. It was perhaps the closest thing to speech she could expect of him, and she had to admit she found the explosion satisfying, like she was finally hearing his voice.

He’s human, at least. That’s something.

The beast stepped back and, just when she thought he would leave her alone in her little white cell, he stepped to her side, drawing his firm fingers softly up her belly and across her breast. He hovered over her like Prince Charming about to plant that fateful kiss on Sleeping Beauty’s lips.

What would it feel like to kiss a beast?

A tingle of anticipation rippled through Gabrielle’s insatiable body as he gazed down at her, and then up into the mirror.

“No,” she said. “Look at me, not at Madame. Look at me. What’s your name?”

He cocked his head.

Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me. She leaned up as much as her aching neck would allow, giving him a look that said, “Go for it, Big Boy!”

How would it feel? Would he take off the mask?

Gabrielle’s heart fluttered as the beast reached for something on the counter. He took it in hand and brought it to her neck. It wasn’t until she felt the needle piercing her skin that she realized a kiss was too much to ask.