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7

Belle

Ifelt like something had shifted in me after the washing encounter with the Beast.

It had only been a day since we shared that experience, but it had been all I was able to think about.

In my mind, I kept envisioning my hand sliding over his powerful, inhuman body. I even found myself throbbing between my thighs, had reached down and touched my soaking wet slit when I made my way back into my room last night.

Biting my lip as those memories crowded my mind, I remembered how good it had felt. But there had been something missing, and as I felt my orgasm claim me in the darkness, I knew what was missing.

The Beast should have been the one who was stroking me, who had brought me to climax.

I’d been wandering in the hallways, forcing myself not to seek him out because I was afraid of myself around him, terrified of how I was feeling.

Leaning against the wall, I rested my head back and closed my eyes as I thought about the vulgar, obscene things he said. I grew wet all over again as the images of the lewd things I witnessed played on repeat in my mind.

I opened my eyes and stared across the foyer, lifting a hand and touching the center of my throat, feeling my pulse beating rapidly.

I felt warm and wet and soft all over at the very thought of just submitting myself to the sexual whims of the Beast.

I wanted depravity. I craved to see what it would be like—feel like—to just lie in the center of the Beast’s bed naked and spread out and let him have his filthy way with me.

“Oh, God, I’m losing my mind.”

“Miss Belle?”

The sound of my name being called had me pacing to the side and seeing a slender woman in livery attire standing at the entrance of the foyer, holding a letter in her hand.

“Mail for you, Miss.” She held it out to me and I smoothed my hands along my skirting, walking forward and taking the envelope. I gave her a thankful smile.

The young woman was gone before I could say anything else, and I glanced down at the envelope to see it was from my father.

My heart was racing as I tore into it with anxious fingers, unfolded the paper, and started reading the almost illegible text.

My dearest daughter, I’ve come into trouble. I would humbly beg that you ask for help from your husband. I know this comes at an inopportune time giving your recent nuptials, but if I don’t get help, I fear, my dear Belle, this may be the last time we ever speak. I need money. A lot of it. Please meet me tonight at the village south entrance,and bring your beastly husband as he’s the only one who can help. I’ll wait for you in hopes you come to my aid.

For a second Ididn’t move, just kept reading the letter over and over again until finally my fingers curled around the paper on their own until it was nothing but a ball in my palm.

The truth of the matter was—I shouldn’t feel any kind of obligation to help my father. He’d tossed me aside to save his own hide, and he hadn’t even bothered to check up on me since.

He didn’t care about how I felt in the slightest. He didn’t ask how I was doing, or if I fared well. He didn’t ask if I was happy.

No, he’d immediately wanted something from me.

I was angry and hurt, but my anger took a front seat despite an errant tear slipping down my cheek.

I shouldn’t have thought anymore about it, yet I found myself moving through the house in search of one of the staff that could lead me to where the Beast was.

I ended up finding Madame in the kitchen. She was with the young woman who’d given me the letter. They were folding linen napkins when they spotted me and stopped. Madame gave me a soft smile when I held out the crumpled letter.

“I need to speak with the Beast.”

She glanced at the letter, then at the young woman, before giving me a small nod. “Master can be found in his study. Upper level, third room on the left. Would you like me to show you?”

I shook my head, murmured my thanks, and then I was leaving, heading up the stairs and into the room she directed.

When I stood on the other side of the massive double oak doors, I lifted my hand but hesitated to knock.