How Beauty Loved the Beast

chapter Twenty-Two



Jolie’s kiss spun his head and left him panting for more. She yanked at his shirt, and he helped her pull it off, thrilled he could stand naked before her and not be ashamed. He followed her to the wood floor, his mouth never leaving hers. Her fingers clenched in his hair, and the tug felt perfect. Better than he remembered.

He rolled her on top of him, fumbled for her bra clasp. Her hands worked his fly and she shoved at his pants. Soon he was spread naked below her. She ogled him covetously. He may not be magazine-worthy, but her eyes said he was desirable, and this time he believed them.

“Stay with me,” she whispered and gently kissed his stomach.

“Won’t be like this,” he argued. He reached for the yoga pants she wore and pulled.

She shifted until he could take them off of her, and they were naked together. Her perfect body slid against his, fitting perfectly against him. She gently scraped her fingernails down his chest, sending frissons of excitement through him.

If he stayed, it could never be like this again.

“Stay. I love you.”

He started to tell her no, but she kissed him and stopped the words. She tasted like cinnamon and smelled like vanilla soap. Her damp hair stuck to his shoulders. Her skin was silky beneath his fingers. Like always, she overwhelmed him. Too much. But too much was just right when it was Jolie Benoit.

Her hot mouth moved to his neck, and he gasped in a breath. “I love you, too.”

“Then you should stay.” Her hand wrapped around his cock.

He thrust into her fist, his body relaxing as he let her touch him. He’d always felt so thankful just to have her near, so responsible to make sure she was happy, he’d never just lie back and let her administer to him. But the happy sounds she made said she was having fun without his help. He lay heavily on the floor, resting after what felt like a lifetime of tension. Of death and fighting, of a hideous face that hid his own, rewriting his life and changing who he was.

Death’s freedom called him like a siren, but his one sure anchor to life stroked his body, bringing forth the most glorious sensations. “Gods, Jolie.”

“I love this,” she said. “I’ve loved this every time.”

He shook his head. “Never like this.”

“Always like this.” Her hands shifted to his chest and she shifted on top of him. A kiss, and she joined her body to his.

He groaned with pleasure and smiled to see her above him, her damp curls hanging in her face, her body undulating as she rode him slowly. Her eyes glittered with intensity. For once her masks were all gone, leaving nothing but raw need and hope. The passionate honesty he’d so longed for brought a gasp to his lips and drove a wedge into his conviction.

“It’s always like this for me, Hauk.” She placed a hand on his chest. “I’m in love with what you have in here.” With her other hand, she cupped his temple. “And what you have in here. I’m making love to what you have inside. I couldn’t give a damn what you have out here.”

Her hands slid to his shoulders and she pushed harder, faster. He grabbed her hips, pulling her tighter with each stroke. She was heaven. Nothing compared to the feeling of her.

“Please stay—oh God, Hauk, stay. Don’t make me live alone. I need you.”

The tremor in her tone cut at him, marring the perfection of letting go. He sat up, stopping their movement, and twined his arms around her shoulders so he could look her in the eye from inches away. “You don’t need me.”

She took his face in both hands and pulled him into a fierce kiss. “You’re wrong.”

She slid up and down again, the new angle pleasuring him in new ways. He threw his head back and tried to catch his breath, but she curled around him, her face buried in his shoulder, her scent everywhere as her body squeezed and pumped his.

He flipped her down onto her back, trying to get back control of his mutinous thoughts. He thrust harder, setting a new pace. “You won’t feel that way forever. If I stay or if I go, you will get over this. Over me. I can’t give you what you deserve. And I will not have you resent me for it.”

She stilled, no longer meeting his pace but passive beneath him. He stopped.

“Is that what you really think?” She reached up to push a lock of wet hair from her face, her eyes blank.

Their bodies were slick with sweat. They had slid together so smoothly, so heartbreakingly perfect in their union. It was painful not to keep moving, but he forced himself still. “That’s what I know.”

She pushed away, and reflexively he let her go. She squirmed out of his arms and stood; his body screamed with the loss.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Leaving.”

“No.” He grabbed her wrist. She resisted his pull, so he stood up.

“Funny, you not letting me leave.” She was crying.

He couldn’t stand to see her cry. He didn’t know what to do about it, and he ached for her. “Make love to me. Please.” He was begging and didn’t care.

“Or what? You’ll die?” With a sob, she threw herself against him.

He cradled her in his arms. “I love you so damned much.”

She shoved him again, splitting their embrace. Instead of running she reached for his shoulders and pulled. He lifted her up. A few steps, and he had her pressed against the window.

She gripped the wall, rose high above him and plunged down, taking him hard. He groaned as she squeezed his hips with her knees and moved, f*cking him angrily and so fantastically at the same damn time.

“I will never forgive you if you make me mourn you.”

“I’m not afraid to die.”

Her nails dug into his back. “Why are you afraid to live?”

The words were a punch. He shoved her back into the glass and thrust, releasing his anger and pain into her. She took it and screamed for more, clenching him with her thighs as her hips kept his rhythm. With a howl of pain and joy, he emptied himself into her body.

He needed to rest, to ease himself against her softness, but she continued to move, demanding more than he had, pushing him further. “I-I can’t. Jolie. I...”

She kissed him, her hot mouth insistent as she teased his tongue with her own. Like a spark to a blaze, his body roared back to life.

“Yes, yes,” she encouraged, tangling her hands into his hair.

He kissed her breasts, suckling and teasing as he fed his own fire alongside hers. Her cries escalated until he knew she was near to orgasm. He thrust again, pushed his face against her neck, breathing in her scent and nipping at her collarbone.

“You’re mine,” she said.

“Mine,” he answered back.

“Then keep me.” She clenched around him, her whole body stiffening as she came.

Her back arched. The sunlight touched her lips, her eyes, her flame-bright hair and the pale dust of freckles that he loved so much. He found himself coming again at the sight and feel of her. He shook, and she trembled with him.

Fearing his ability to stand, he hugged her close and dropped to his knees then onto the floor. She wiggled, trying to get closer to him still. The writhing comfort of her closeness—physically and emotionally—sent aftershocks through his system.

They held each other and breathed as their heartbeats slowed to something resembling normal life. She kissed his neck and nipped his jawline in a move that was more contentment than drive. Her eyes were dead serious as she said, “Let’s do this again tomorrow.”

“Just tomorrow?”

She touched his necklace, sticking the tip of her finger through the ring. “And every day after that. I want to marry you, Hauk.” A smile, simple and a little sad, turned her expression hopeful. “Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll get a dress. I know it’s cliché, but I want a big, poufy white one. With sparkles.”

The idea of his tough girl in a glittering princess dress brought an unexpected smile to his face. A smile that left quickly. “We can’t get married as long as I’m a fugitive. You deserve a real wedding. Legitimate in the eyes of the law. And the right to live up here as well as down in the Underlight. You should have that choice.”

“That’s not important to me.” But the touch of sorrow in her eyes said he was right. That was what she wanted.

He stroked his fingers up her spine and made a decision he hadn’t realized was still up in the air. “So if your friend can get me that reversal, I’ll propose.”

He could tell the moment his words registered because she went absolutely still. “Do you mean it?”

A scarred future stretched before him, terrifying and sometimes brutal. But he had a home in the Underlight that wanted him and a job that mattered. Most of all, he had a woman he loved with all his soul who loved him back just as fiercely. Regardless of what the future had in store, they could hold on to each other. And that would be enough.

He nodded slowly. “Let’s get to that cup before I change my mind.”