Beastly Intentions Ch. 06

Chapter Six

Garren sat up quickly, pulling his robe across his lap from where it had fallen open when he'd thrown himself on the bed. "What are you doing here?" he asked her, his voice sharp.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought maybe we could...talk," she said quietly, staring down at her folded hands. "So what did you mean by a clue? A clue to what?"

"A clue to understanding the minds of women," he snarled. "What else?"

"If it is that difficult," she said, her shoulders stiffening, her back straightening, "don't bother on my account." She turned, ready to storm from the room.

Garren watched her, knowing he should just let her go, but he couldn't. He couldn't let her hate him. "Wait," he called as her hand touched the door of his bedchamber.

"What?" she said, not turning around.

Before she could move he was there, fast with the speed of the beast, silent with the grace of the great predators, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders holding her gently.

"Don't leave yet," he whispered, coming up behind her and letting his body press up against hers for just an instant. He wanted to groaned from the way she felt, soft and rounded, her body pressing against his, her head on his shoulder.

"Why?" she managed to whisper.

"Because I don't want you to go," he said quickly, letting his hands slide down her arms, running them with a tender touch over her long, slender fingers before twining around them. He held her there with just the light touch of his palms against her own, the sensation of his fur brushing between her fingers, and nothing more.

"I don't want to go, Garren." Her head tipped and she looked at him from over her shoulder. "Ever," she added the truth of her emotions in the clear

blue of her eyes.

He clenched his eyes shut; amazed at the way that one single word could send the blood rushing to his groin and his heart pumping with joy. "Then stay with me for a while, help me ward off the night," he whispered, his breath tickling her ear, his lips caressing the soft skin under it.

He felt her nod more than saw it and, letting go of her hands, lifted her gently into his arms, carrying her against his chest, against his heart. He sat her on the edge of the bed, tying his robe tighter around his lean waist before joining her, sitting so close that their knees touched.

"You are so beautiful, Brenna," he whispered, his huge hand coming to her cheek to cup the fragile skin, feeling her heat, her life against his palm. "I used to dream about being able to touch you, to hold you like Nathaniel does to Melissa. But then it got so painful..." he growled, his fingers brushing over the soft gold of her hair.

"Why?" she asked him breathlessly, staring into his eyes.

"I couldn't have you," he whispered. "What man could take something as good and kind and pure as you are and lead it to a beast? I couldn't ask you to love me like that, like what they have. I had to give you a chance to find a man," he almost spat the word for the thought of someone else touching, kissing, just being with, his Brenna tore a shaft of pain through his soul that felt as if it would never heal.

"I don't want just a man," she whispered, moving closer. "I want you, you who are so much more than any man could be to me."

"No," he said, shaking his head in denial though his heart was singing. "No, what you feel is gratitude, Brenna. I took you from a hell not of your own making and gave you a place of safety. What person wouldn't feel thankful? It's easy to mistake that for love."

"So I don't know my own feelings or thoughts?" she growled, her voice growing husky and doing an amazing imitation of his ire. "I'm a confused girl who has no idea about what she wants?"

"I didn't..."

"Yes," she interrupted, pulling herself away from his hand. Her own came up, her finger pounding against his chest, emphasizing every point she made. "You did say that, many times. Every time I've ever told you how I feel, or tried to tell you, you tell me that. I'm not a child, Garren. After last night I cannot believe even you could doubt that."

He watched a blush stain her cheeks at the mention of what they had done the night before. His body reacted predictably, his cock stirring and straining under his arm that he laid across his lap.

"I don't doubt..."

"Yes," she interrupted him again. "You do. I love you, Garren. It's not gratitude; it's not some childish infatuation. It's love, strong and enduring. It comes from here," she said, holding her fist to her breast. "And here," she held it to her forehead. "And here, too," she finished softly, her hand pressing between her thighs, cupping her own sex.

Emotions swamped him, emotions he'd held at bay for so long they seemed almost too powerful to contain. He stared at her for a single moment before grasping her arms and yanking her against him, his lips crushing down upon hers.

It was a punishing kiss, one that held every bit of emotion that Garren had felt as he'd watched her grow and fell in love with her, with her beauty and her goodness and even her irrepressible mouth. He waited for her to fight him, for her to push him back, to struggle against what he was inside. He waited for her anger, for her loathing because he didn't know how to kiss a woman; he didn't know how to love. All he knew was how to be the beast.

She didn't. Instead, her lips softened, parting under the fury of his, inviting his tongue between with a soft sigh. Her hand rose, her palm sliding across his cheek and into his hair, holding him to her as if afraid he would pull away.

She held him against her, moaning softly into his mouth as his tongue finally slid between her lips, rubbing with a heated intimacy against her own.

Brenna knew she'd won when his lips gentled, his kiss becoming fiercer, but the care he'd always shown for her twining with that ferocity. She felt him tilt his head, changing the direction of the kiss, rubbing his lips across hers with devastating effect. His arms held her close, no longer trapping her body against his, now gently cradling her until she reached between them, opening his robe.

"What are you..." he began, feeling the material part.

"Shh," she whispered. "Please Garren, don't ruin this moment," she begged him, pressing against his furred body, her fingers sliding inside the robe to hold herself against him.

The fabric of her gown was cool against his fur. He couldn't have lifted a finger to stop her if the gods themselves had demanded it. Her next words, said so softly, with a tiny moan escaping at the end, sealed his fate.

"Kiss me again, please, Garren?"

How could he deny her? How could any man have? Especially as it was something he'd dreamed of being able to do for such a long time. His lips found hers once more, lifting her against his chest until she straddled his hips, her knees coming down inside of his robe, pushing it further aside. Her gown trailed across his cock and he fisted his hands in the back of her robe, hearing the thin material rip under his grasping claws.

Her thighs came around his hips as she settled against him, soft, silky skin that he wished he could feel against his own without this blasted layer of fur between them. He could feel her fingers rubbing against him, her palms pressing against his back. He wanted nothing more than to rip the scant bit of clothing she wore off of her beautiful body and drive himself into her, lose himself in her.

But he couldn't. He couldn't chance this. He couldn't make her take the risk of becoming like him, not even if it were temporary. The pain of making her an outcast like himself would destroy him. He forced himself to open his hands, let his palms run down the slender curve of her back and grasp her waist, lifting her gently and setting her away from him.

"W-what?" she whispered, looking into his rigid features. "No, God, Garren please don't deny us this chance to be happy. It's just a book, just someone's ideas put into words. It's not a true story."

"Shh, little pet," he said gently, laying one furred finger against her swollen lips. His tongue came out, licking his own lips, and he could swear he could still taste her upon them, the darkness of her arousal, and the sweetness of her essence, still there upon his mouth. "I don't know what would happen if I took you, Brenna," he said, being as honest as he could possibly be without letting her know about the book. "I've never..."

She stared at him, her eyes suspicious. "You've never made l-love to a woman, fucked a woman before?"

"No," he said, turning his head and staring over at the fire so she wouldn't see his embarrassment. "I've never even kissed a woman before you. I couldn't after I changed into this, could I? What woman would have me?" The words were said in a bitter tone, but he couldn't change the way he felt about the life that had been forced upon him.

"I would," Brenna said, reaching out to him. "I would and gladly," she repeated, smiling as she ran her hands through the fur ruff at his neck. "I love you, Garren."

Those simple words shook him to his soul, making him shudder with the restraint he had to put upon himself to keep from reaching for her. He closed his eyes tightly, his fists clenched, the image of her sweet body as she gave herself to pleasure the night before burnt upon his memory.

"Garren?" she asked him. "Can you not try? Can you not reach out and take what I offer in the manner upon which it is given. I love you. Do you not love me in return?"

He laughed his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. "If I didn't love you, Brenna, this wouldn't be so damned hard."

"Tell me?" she whispered, going to her knees upon the bed next to him. "Please?"

His eyes opened and he stared at her, her small form so close to him that he could feel her heat, smell her scent, infuse himself with the wonder of her. He just couldn't take her the way that she wanted. "I love you, Brenna," he said quietly, making a decision that he hoped he was strong enough to go through with.

He took her in his arms, but not before pulling open her robe and sliding it off her shoulders. It fell like a gossamer veil to the floor, his quickly following.

Stroking his strong fingers over her arms, he looked down at the sweetness of her form barely covered by thin silk. It clung to her body, outlining her curves, emphasizing the hardened bumps of her nipples, even hinting at their pale color.

"May I take this off of you?" he asked her hoarsely, pulling at the small ribbons that tied down the front of the thin silk.

She nodded her eyes wide as she stared up at him.

His hands were clumsy, shaking with passion and nerves as he reached for the tiny ribbons, tearing one off in his eagerness to see her once more. "I'm sorry," he said, holding the tiny ribbon between his massive fingers.

"You bought this for me, so I guess it's yours to take off of me anyway you wish," she whispered, her breath coming faster as he parted the thin silk.

The tiny sleeves fell from her shoulders, pooling to her waist, trapping her hands.

"Don't move," he whispered as she tried to free herself. He pulled the ribbon from her hair, letting those silky tresses fall around her shoulders in a gold waterfall of lush waves. He lifted a handful of the stuff, burying his face in it, breathing in the clean scent and the aroma of flowers that clung to it. "You always remind me of lying in a field of wildflowers," he growled, threading it through his hands, lifting his face and staring down at her.

She trembled under his gaze, shivering as his hand reached out gently, cupping the smooth slight curve of her breast.

"So soft," he whispered, enthralled by the way she felt. "So smooth and firm," he groaned, staring at her straining nipple, his voice growing even huskier.

She shivered under his hand, her head falling back as she bunched her hands in the fabric of the gown, stark streaks of wonderment shooting through her. Then his fingers touched her nipple, tracing the pale pink circle of puckered flesh before flicking gently over the hardened bud. Her back arched as she tried to get him to touch her further, to hold her in his big hand. She wanted to feel his lips around her taut tip, to feel his tongue and teeth against her flesh like the women in the books she read to him.

His hand slipped down to her waist, holding her with one hand while he slipped the gown down her body and off of her long, slender legs. Then he was laying her down on her back on the mattress, lying next to her, his leg coming up to cover her thighs.

"Tell me if I hurt you?" he asked her, his eyes uncertain, his hands shaking as he reached for her.

"You won't," she said, the conviction in her voice making him brave enough to find her lips with his once more.

The kiss started gently, a brushing of skin against skin, a tender tasting of tongues, then grew heated, her moan of pure pleasure inciting his lust. She tasted like sin, pure and simple, the wet depths of her mouth enticing him to return, until she strained against him, her back arched, her body begging for his hands.

"Please," she whispered when he lifted his head, his dark eyes glowing in the dim light of the fire.

His hand seemed too big, too clumsy to touch the pale skin. He was frightened he'd bruise her, though her movements under him, the way she took his hand in her own, guiding it to her breast, squeezing her hand over it to force him to cup her small mound, belayed his fear. She moved under him, squirming as she tried to part her thighs, trapped under his heavy legs.

"I hurt, Garren," she panted, moaning as he took her plump nipple between his fingers, plucking at the tender bud. "Please, I need your hand," she begged.

His leg lifted, allowing her to slide her thigh out from under him, Her hands rose to his, sliding it down her body, pressing his open palm against her skin.

She hesitated for only a brief instant as she reached the top of her mound, staring up into his eyes, watching as he watched his hand against the pale softness of her stomach.

She quivered under him, whether fear or desire, he didn't know. He could only pray it was desire and not a need to please him that had her pressing his fingers into the soft curls that covered her sex, hiding the petal pink wetness of her cunt from his eyes. He brushed against her skin, marveling at its softness, its silkiness, under the rough callous of his fingers.

Then she pushed him farther and for the first time, he felt the wet flesh of a woman's heat. It sent a shudder of desire through him; a tremor of delight that was also pain, for his cock throbbed with the need to be inside her, to feel the wetness of her stretched around him. He wanted to know what she felt like, to experience with her the velvety heat that she'd read about to him.

He bent his head, needing to distract himself from the burning ache in his groin. Instead, his mouth found her nipple, the taut bud teasing his lips with its hardness, tempting his tongue with the flavor of her skin. His fingers gently explored her moist folds, slipping over the tiny pearl of her clit and feeling her body tense under him.

Her hands fisted in his fur, and her body arched as he gently strummed that small rigid piece of flesh. He slid his finger farther down that sleek slit, finding her heated opening, the thin membrane of flesh that guarded that portal of pleasure still intact, barring all but the tiniest of his fingers to enter.

He wouldn't take the proof of her virginity, though his body demanded that he make her his, merging their bodies and finding out the joys of the flesh together for the first time. He couldn't, for if he wasn't successful, he would have to let her go. That thought made the beast inside of him howl with frustration and the man ache with pain. But he wouldn't let her see either, for tonight he would shower her with pleasure.

His lips moved from her breasts, his tongue trailing down the small curve of her breast, smiling darkly as she shivered, pressing his head against her body with her small hands. He followed the slender line of her stomach, slipping his tongue into the taut well of her navel, hearing her breathy exclamation and the shudder she gave when he traced it around that tiny opening.

Nuzzling his nose against her warm skin, he spread her thighs apart further, sliding down to lie between her splayed legs, staring with wonder at the wet pink flesh he'd seen only once before. "You're even beautiful down here," he whispered, kissing the top of her slit gently.

He felt her thighs tense, saw her hand coming down as if she would cover herself from his gaze. It slid over her flesh, her slender fingers trembling lightly as she sought to hide herself.

Garren chuckled at her shyness, lowering his face to nuzzle at her fingers, sliding his tongue along the tense seam of those long digits until she moved them slipping between them as she opened her hand. He growled at his first taste of a woman's flesh, of Brenna's sweet flesh, for she was everything he'd imagined she would be in his fevered fantasies. Salty and musty, with that sweet tang of her lust, it exploded upon his senses. He wanted more; he wanted to hear her cries, to feel her legs tighten and her hips dance under his mouth until she flooded his face with her sticky come.

Growling out his lust for her, he grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand away almost roughly. Before she could protest, he was pressed against her wet flesh, his mouth nibbling at the plump lips of her sex, his tongue coming out to lap at the thin folds, licking and tickling the pearled clit.

She mewled beneath him, her wrist still in his hand, forgotten in his haste to pleasure her fully. He spread her open beneath his mouth, his tongue a flickering flame to drive her to her brink. It didn't take long as he suckled her clit into his mouth, his long fangs gently nibbling against the hard knot of flesh.

Her cries had his hips jerking against the bed, rubbing his cock against the mattress, wishing it was her tight cunt instead. But he couldn't, he wouldn't take her.

Brenna couldn't believe the sensations building inside her. It was as if last night were just a beginning, a taste of what her body was actually capable of feeling. His mouth was hot, his tongue long and thick, running over her wetness, lapping at it as if he couldn't get enough. Her hips wouldn't be still, thrusting against his mouth even as she begged him for more, her cries growing sharp in the silence of the room.

The bubble of need grew in her loins, bigger and tighter as his mouth performed splendid wonders. Then he growled, the vibrations so intense, she couldn't stop them. She exploded in heated chills of pleasure, his name on her lips as she rose in the bed, bending over him.

He made it last for what seemed like forever, his tongue gently lapping at her clit now, sliding down to taste of her juices as if he couldn't get enough. He pushed her back until she was against the pillows once more, her body shivering as contractions of erotic pleasure shuddered through her.

He took her from one peak to the next, stopping only long enough to let her relax before once more feasting upon her sweet cunt. She took all she could, crying out when the sensations grew too heated for her to bear, holding on to him as the only sane thing in a world grown mad with lust and love.

She finally pushed him away, curling to her side, shuddering, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried to catch her breath. Brenna felt Garren move up behind her, his body curling around hers, his fur, damp from her spendings, brushing against her skin as he kissed her shoulder.

"I...I can't," she pleaded, feeling his hand move over her hip and slip down to gently caress her furred mound. "No more."

Garren grinned behind her, a smile that was taut with the desperation he felt.