He takes my hand like a gentleman, and welcomes me into the room where everything will change. I would think he's a man by the warmth of his demeanor.
But of course I know better.
I don't feel afraid when the Beast takes his clothes off. His smile is too honest. His eyes are too vulnerable.
I admire his enormous, forbidden body. I'm tiny and soft by comparison.
He asks if I want to be naked, too. And I can tell by the tremble in his voice that he's a virgin.
That must be scary.
To be a big Beast like him, standing over a Beauty like me. Wanting to touch me so badly, but knowing how easily his touch can hurt me.
I tell him yes. I'd love to be naked.
He strips me, making me blush. But only for a moment. My self-consciousness evaporates when he strokes my chin with his long, thick finger.
"You really are a beauty."
There's a spark in our eyes. They grow into flames the longer that we look at each other, before erupting into untamable wildfires. The blaze burns away all inhibitions, until all that's left is desire.
He takes my wrists.
His big, muscular arms feel like Hercules when he pins me to the mattress.
I'm completely exposed to him, positioned for him to do whatever he wants with me. His pupils steal mine, enveloping my entire spirit. His sweat smells hot and potent -- a simmering ocean of masculinity.
He has the sort of primitive power that an innocent girl like me can only dream of.
I want to feel that power inside me. I want to be absolutely devoured by his manly perversion. I drop my voice to a lustful whisper and say, "Take me."
Even though it's his first time making love, he knows exactly what to do.
` He kisses me hard, leading the way for our lips to dance in messy, graceless synchronicity. His mouth is sweet and overpowering.
He traces a finger over my palm, my shoulder, and my nipple. He toys with my clitoris -- gently, then vigorously, then monstrously fast.
It's like he was born with this instinct.
The Beast is grabbing, licking, and sucking me all over. His breath feels like pure heat on my skin. The friction of his hands and mouth grows more intense by the second, as though he's remembering what an animal he really is. I can see in his eyes that he's losing control of civility.
His wild groans sound like thunderclaps. He's squeezing and scratching me, forcing my flesh into submission.
