Hunted: An Erotic Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (An Adult Fairy Tale Novel) (9 page)

But then they arrived.  He stopped suddenly and put her down on the doormat in front of his guest home.  She squeaked, then whimpered, and looked at him with pouty lips.

"Everett," she said, whining but not meaning to.  "Will you come inside, too?  I want to cuddle with you.  Please?"

Everett grinned, but shook his head.  "No, Danya sister, Alena.  You go.  Make home for you.  I return..."  He furrowed his brow, contemplating his options.  "I come later.  This is good?"

Alena's lips curled into a sly smirk.  "I want you to cum now!"  Her hands darted out, snatching his half-hard cock in her fingers.  If only he let her, she knew she could make his stay worth it.  If only, if...

Everett laughed and pried her fingers away from his shaft.  "Later, Alena-sister.  I go now."

Before she could complain and whine and look at him with demure, upset eyes and pout and convince him to stay with her forever, and... he left.  Sprinting across the grassy field in front of the guest house, he abandoned her to her own devices.

Oh well, Alena thought.  He
was
the
beast—
the one from the stories—and he did have a whole mansion to attend to.  He hadn't eaten her alive, which was definitely a point in her favor, so she thought he must like her.  Or, he had liked her, but now he obviously loved her.  He'd left her here for the time being, like any other man leaving his lover in the mornings when he needed to go to work.  That was it.  Nothing more or less.  He said he would return and she knew he would.

In the meantime, she decided she would explore this house of his.  Tiny in comparison to the mansion, but it was still a rather good size.  At least as large as the apartment she shared with Danya, their younger sister, and their father. 
At least
, she thought, but from the outside she couldn't quite tell how big it really was.

Only one way to find out, right?  She wrapped her dainty fingers around the brass doorknob and twisted it, then pushed the door open.

Everett left Alena at his mansion's guest house.  She would be safe there, he knew.  She could make a home for herself and remain for as long as she wanted.  He liked Alena.  She was good.

She had a scent like Danya's, but different.  Younger and more fragile, like a faint whiff of delicate flowers.  Danya was stronger and a better mate because of that, but he liked Alena, too.  They would both help him in ending the curse placed upon him and his household by the witch, Beatrix.  For every time he mated with a woman who truly wanted him, more of his servants would return to life.  The witch had trapped their souls in different belongings in and around his home; in the large grandfather clock in the dining hall, in the chandelier high above the table, in the pieces of the tea set he kept in a glass-doored viewing case, in everything.

After he'd mated with Danya on the dining hall table, his butler, Horatio, escaped from inside the grandfather clock.  Who had he rescued after taking his pleasure from Alena's body in the mansion yard?  He didn't know yet, but he looked forward to finding out.

Or, he had looked forward to it, but when he arrived in the dining hall to take his dinner with Danya, something distracted him.  His nostrils flared, sniffing, trying to discern the scents assailing his senses.  In his beast-cursed form he could smell everything, anything, but different.  With Horatio back, his sense of smell had dulled somewhat, though.  And with this other, unknown person returning, it dulled a little more.

Still, he figured it out.  Danya's arousal helped him.  The smells were from her at first, but when Horatio entered the dining hall, pushing a cart filled with a tureen of minestrone soup, all the pieces snapped into place.

Danya, he knew, had fucked his butler.  Not exactly though, no.  With her mouth.  Everett smelled remnants of Horatio's seed, hidden within his pants, and the same scent came, though very diluted, from Danya's sweet breath.  He sniffed hard once more to make sure he had it right.  Yes, that was it.

It angered him!  It did at first, but then he calmed.  There were no signs of Horatio having mated with her in a true way, which was good.  Danya was Everett's and he did not intend to share her.  If the only thing that happened was something involving her mouth, Everett was fine with that.  No more, though.

But he knew what this meant.  Danya was not satisfied.  Everett thought he had mated her well, and he knew that she was sated after they'd coupled atop his dining hall table, but he hadn't expected her to need his cock again so soon afterwards.  He thought he could escape for a few moments and go to Alena and sate her, too, but no.  Danya needed a lot.

This, Everett thought, was good.

Danya sipped at the bowl of minestrone soup in front of her.  She was still concerned and more than a bit upset at what she'd seen while glancing out of the dining hall window, but she tried to let it slip away from her mind. Was it a hallucination?  The more she thought on it, the less she believed this.  Somehow, some way, she knew Alena was here.  Her younger sister had tempted Everett away, but Danya wouldn't allow it.  She loved Alena, she really did, but she couldn't let the eighteen year old hussy take Everett from her.

But, it wasn't just Alena's fault.  Everett needed to learn, too.  Michael, one of the richer boys in town, had tried to act similarly towards Danya but she refused to accept that.  In the woods, drunk, they fooled around, and then later he came to her father's shop when she was alone and told her they couldn't be together?  Oh, but he'd fuck her again, he said, if she
wanted
.  Right then and there, too, in the backroom of the store, like some item ready to be purchased and wrapped.  Except Michael didn't want to take her home; he just wanted to window shop.

Danya gritted her teeth as she filled her spoon with soup.  Why would anyone treat her that way?  She enjoyed sex and she knew it was a bargaining chip sometimes.  She had used it in the past in order to make sure her family stayed comfortable.  Her father was forever lax on bills, and made horrible business decisions.  Was it so bad if Danya needed to sleep with someone in order to make a sale on a big ticket item?  It wasn't as if she wanted to do it (at least not most of the time), but elsewise she and her younger sisters would end up living on the streets.  With their father, too, but that's what he deserved in a lot of ways.  She loved him, and yet... he made everything so difficult.

This soup was delicious.  Fresh vegetables, steamed and tossed into a hearty broth at the last minute, with perfectly cooked pasta mixed in, too.  When she made soup, she couldn't worry herself over the exact textures of everything involved.  She favored stews for this reason, where it mattered less, or sometimes simple soups like chicken noodle.  This one, though, was exceptional.  If the soup was this good, she wondered what the main meal would be like?

A spot of broth slipped from her mouth and down her lips, trailing a liquid path to her chin, and then dropping onto her bare breasts.  After their rough coupling on the dining hall table, neither Danya nor Everett had bothered putting clothes back on.  Horatio, the butler, didn't seem to care, and then why should she?  It was warm enough in the mansion.

Prim and proper, she picked up the napkin from beside her soup bowl and dabbed at the soup on her chest and chin and lips.  Belatedly, she noticed Everett watching her.

Seated beside her, Everett licked his lips.  He had bits of soup matted into the fur-like beard that covered his entire face.  Grinning, looking aggressive and predatory, he scooted his chair closer to hers and then leaned to the side.  His face dipped low, aiming straight for her breasts.  Sticking out his tongue, he lapped up the remnants of dribbled soup from her naked body.

It wasn't erotic, not at first.  But he didn't stop.  She shivered, sighing, when his tongue traced from the center of her chest and up to her collarbone, then back down to the tops of one of her breasts.  He tickled his tongue lower, teasing, lower still, until he barely brushed past her (now) stiff nipple.  Suddenly he stopped, moved his head away from her chest, laughing.

"You eat, Danya," he said.  "Eat, good."

She picked up her spoon again and placed it into her bowl of soup.  Everett resumed his previous position, circling her nipple with his tongue.  The spoon dropped from her hand and fell into the bowl, the silver handle clattering against white porcelain.

His rough tongue raked against her sensitive skin, leaving a lingering trail of saliva in its wake.  Danya arched her back and parted her lips, letting out a silent cry.  But, again, Everett stopped.

"Eat," he said.

Eat, yes, that was all well and good and—fuck!  He was on her again, his tongue, his lips.  Wherever he went, sliding his tongue across the skin of her breasts, he left a cool, wet line.  She shivered, half from the feel of his moist kisses as they cooled on her skin and half from a desire for pleasure.  Her hand wavered, unsure how she should do this, and she picked up the spoon.

Watching the soup, holding the spoon carefully and moving it slowly so she didn't drop any, Danya brought it to her mouth.  As soon as the spoon slipped past her lips, Everett popped her nipple into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue.  Danya gasped, harsh, almost spitting out her soup, but she managed to control herself.  When she swallowed, letting the warm, delicious food slither down her throat, Everett toyed with her nipple once again.

She went in for another spoonful of soup, a little faster this time.  Then another, and one more, and...

Everett practically devoured her breasts.  As she ate the first course, he lapped at her chest.  His tongue flicked her nipple up and down and to the sides, and when he satisfied himself with the one on that breast he moved on to the next.  Danya wriggled, her ass sliding across the velvet seat cushion of the dining hall chair, unable to control herself while he tormented her.  She managed to keep the soup in the spoon for the most part until some devilish idea took her.

Nearly finished, almost done with the soup, she brought one more spoonful to her mouth.  But, at the last moment, she spilled it down her chest and towards Everett's waiting lips.  He saw her out of the corner of his eye, must have known it wasn't an accident, and yet he remained there, lips tightly latched around her right nipple.  When the soup dribbled towards his lips, a bit of it slipping onto his cheek, Danya sprang into action.

She took his face in her hands and pulled him up to her.  His slightly sharpened teeth scratched across her skin as she lifted him away, but she didn't even care.  Moving to meet him, she pressed her mouth against his cheek by his lips, sucking at the soup on his fur-covered face, and then kissed him hard.  On the cheek, the side of his lips, towards the center, until her tongue snaked out and met with his inside his mouth.

She wanted him—needed him—so very badly.  The memories of seeing him with her sister slipped out of her mind, replaced by a thrashing desire within her.  She pulled at him, wanting him to come closer somehow, but she already had all of his face and there was no way he could move any closer with his lips.  Instead, swiftly, Everett slid forward, kicked away his chair, scooped her out of hers, and then took her place.  She sat in his bare lap, facing him, kissing him, her tongue wrestling hard with his.

His erection throbbed between them.  When he'd placed her in his lap, he pulled her forward sharply, not giving her any time to object to the rough treatment.  Now, pulsing and twitching and ready to take her, his cock wasn't in the right spot to do it.  She frowned, looking down, wanting to fix this mistake, but Everett pulled her closer still and put his hands on her face, twisting her chin up so that she looked him right in the eyes.

She rubbed against him, whimpering.  Eyes half-lidded, wanting so badly to be taken by this beast, but the only thing she could manage was to grind her crotch against the side of his shaft.  His thick erection pressed against her stomach and her clit and her lower lips.  She squirmed and moved so that she had him just right, his shaft parting her pussy lips and pressing alongside her slit, and then she bounced on his thighs in some heavily erotic dance.

All thoughts of soup left her mind, replaced by hunger for a different sort of meal.

Everett bent her backwards so that the middle of her back pressed against the silken tablecloth and the edge of the table.  She leaned away further, arching her back until her head touched the top of the table.  Riding him, grinding against him, she sat like that, content.  Everett squashed her breasts in his hands, groping and squeezing them.  The tips of his nails pressed hard into her flesh, but she was too caught up in gaining her pleasure to notice.

Someone coughed behind them.  "Excuse me, Master and Mistress?"

Danya's eyes snapped open and she stared at the intruder.  Horatio stood there with another cart of food, this time carrying a honey-glazed ham on a large platter.  Everett looked over his shoulder, spied the ham, and nodded.

"Yes, food.  Danya eat," he said.

Horatio coughed again, clearing his throat.  "As you wish."

The ham looked delicious, no doubt, but Danya wasn't in the mood to eat right now.  She wanted something else, something more, and she tried to ride Everett's beast like she'd been doing, but he grabbed onto her hips and kept her rooted in place on his lap.  She frowned and pressed harder, hoping to overcome him.  Whether his curse gave him strength or he was strong to begin with, it didn't matter; she had no hopes of fighting against him.

Horatio cut slivers of ham, slicing cleanly around the bone and delivering the pieces onto the plate nearest his Master and Danya.  One, then another, three, and a fourth, all slathered with thick, sweet glaze.  "I shall bring the rest shortly," he said once he finished.

And, he left.  The worst part about this was Everett removing Danya from his lap and standing at the side of the table.

She eyed the ham a moment longer, then scrambled to get to her knees and take care of Everett's throbbing erection.  With her mouth?  With her hands?  She didn't even care, just as long as she riled him up enough so that he took her body right then and there.  But, he stopped her before she started.