Free PETALS AND THORNS by JENNIFER PARIS

of how the Beast had looked, so intent on her, so aware of her every breath and quaking response.
    She was careful not to watch him eat. The Beast's mouth clearly gave him difficulty, making him less than neat. Silver forks did not mesh well with teeth meant to tear meat.
    “Mmm, have you tasted this?” she asked him and knelt up to offer the Beast a piece of meat with her fingers. He froze, then leaned forward to gingerly take the morsel from her hand. His tongue rasped her fingertips, sweeping up the gravy.
    “Delicious,” he answered.
    They enjoyed a different meal, without the relentless sexual tension and the formality he'd demanded of her thus far. The Beast had shed some stiffness with his cloak. They talked more of his reading and his interest in horse breeding and horticulture. Amarantha found she possessed no actual interests. She'd seldom thought beyond what lovely thing she might next acquire and whether she'd become a princess or a queen.
    Amarantha never thought she'd share a cozy evening with a man more than half-beast, dining in a short, transparent robe with her hair in tumbled disarray.
    She felt deliciously worn-out, sated from the food, and slightly drunk on wine. Far in the house, a clock chimed.
    “Amarantha, I must ask you a question.”
    She gaped. “Don't do this, please.”

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    “Amarantha, my bride, will you beg me to collar you, chain you to my bed, and fuck you?”
    Amarantha clenched her teeth together. Why did he do this? The same question every night, phrased so that she couldn't possibly agree.
    She cocked her head. He waited stoically for her refusal, she could see.
    “And what if I said yes? What would happen then?”
    He didn't answer. Couldn't answer?
    “No, Sir Beast,” she said as gently as she could. “I can't do that.”
    As if released from a spell, the Beast scooted back his chair and held out a furry hand to her. “Very well, then. Come over here.”
    To Amarantha's surprise, the Beast helped her onto his lap, snuggled her up to his chest, and settled her sore bottom so it rested comfortably between his thighs.
    He tugged on the belt of her robe, pulling it loose. He coaxed her to lie back against his arm while he drew the flimsy robe open.
    Amarantha watched his intent face as he stroked her. He caressed her throat with light fingers, trailing over her breasts, belly, and thighs. She liked being able to see the glint of hunger rise in his eyes as she wakened to his touch. Her nipples tightened for him, and he tweaked them gently until she squirmed. By the time his fingers finally dipped between her thighs, she ached for him.
    When she climaxed in his arms, his glowing eyes missed nothing.
    In what had become their ritual, the Beast carried Amarantha up to bed. He brushed the tangles from her hair and tied her wrists to the headboard with the wide satin ribbons.
    “I'll want you ready for more games tomorrow, my sweet. I have several interesting things planned.” He ducked his head and lapped at her breasts with broad rasps of his tongue. Amarantha felt herself reawaken. She moaned and pulled at the ribbons. The Beast slid down her belly, licking and nipping as he went. Then he seized her ankles and spread them wide, exposing her sex suddenly. Amarantha

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    gasped, then nearly shrieked when he buried his mouth against her stimulated flesh.
    She writhed under his ministrations, the tension filling her.
    The Beast chuckled and placed a wet kiss on the tender inside of her ankle. He tucked her feet under the sheets and pulled the blanket up. Amarantha kicked her legs restlessly.
    “That ought to give you something to dream about.” The candles started winking out. “Since you ought to wake earlier tomorrow, come meet me in the stables. It's time you met my horses.”

    * * *
On her fourth day of marriage, Amarantha awoke refreshed, eager to meet the day, and with her hands still tied to the headboard.
    She tugged in surprise, and the sensation of the satin biting