Page 83 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)

Always and Only

G ilded embellishments and paintings of nature accent white walls, and curtains are drawn from the window. The open lake behind the castle shines back, the moonlight shimmering against the water, stealing my attention as I rest the rose Beau gave me in a vase with others displayed on his desk.

I sigh and hug myself tightly, taking in every inch of a place I never wish to leave as Beau hugs me from behind, peppering my neck with kisses. His effortless and languid caresses draw a smile to my face.

Beau’s chambers are exactly as I remember.

From his neatly made bed to the chaise next to the bathing chamber, I could never get over how much I love everything about this room.

With the large pane, the natural light throughout the day is perfect for reading in bed.

And the blankets and abundance of pillows can be dragged across the area to lounge anywhere in comfort.

One more night. One more night to lose ourselves in each other. And then what?

Beau sways, pulling me from my reverie. His lips never leave, and his hands don’t explore as fast as I’d like them to.

I rock my head back and rest it against his collarbone. Trailing my fingers down, I soothe the ache between my legs, pleasuring myself.

“Eager to start without me?” Beau’s amusement, tantalizing and sweet, sends more heat straight to my core and goose bumps along my flesh.

His cock presses against my ass, and I don’t move or act surprised but rather soak up his handsomeness once more.

“You’re taking too long,” I reply, voice lowered.

I loosen my tunic. Moving between my shirt and flesh, I brush past Beau’s touch, seeking my breast.

Eyes like the sun itself stare back, molten and flaring with desire. His jaw flexes as I run a small circle around my nipple, and he clenches his fists against my abdomen.

He withdraws, his command thick in a husky voice. “Show me what you were going to do.”

I don’t hold back, taking his hand and putting it in my trousers.

“This,” I breathe, dragging his fingers through my wetness.

Beau groans, dipping his head as I hum. His grip on my waist tightens as he teases my cunt, stealing a gasp from me.

I hold the base of his neck, keeping him close.

“Show me how much you need a release.” He pinches my center, and I whimper when he grinds into me from behind. “You’re so fucking good to me.”

“More,” I beg, unraveling.

He rubs my clit, applying pressure as he syncs his hips up with mine. “Show me you’re a good listener and tell me exactly what you want,” he whispers, pinching my pussy again.

I mewl, dragging his face to mine. Kissing him never feels like enough. Even when I open my mouth and he sucks on my lip.

I shudder, moaning before I withdraw, voice lowering. “I want your clothes off. And then I want you to get your ass on the bed so I can sit on you.”

His dimples appear. “I love when you use your words.”

He gives me a quick peck before removing his hand from my pants. Beau peels off his clothes, then props himself on the edge of the bed, heat and urgency rippling off him in waves.

He’s eager and wanting, his cock erect and brushing against his lower abdomen, toned to utter and devastating perfection. His fingers twitch, and he rubs his thighs, trying his best to remain patient.

Savoring the power of him waiting for me, I let him squirm under my surveyance. I leisurely remove my clothing, a slow smirk spreading as I stop every time he moves and catches himself.

“Ever the tease you are,” he muses.

I wink as I lift my tunic over my head and drop it with a flourish, wetness forming between my legs as his eyes rake down my body.

My mouth salivates at the thought of sucking him off, but I cast the idea aside for now, sauntering toward him.

He bounces his leg, his excitement getting the better of him when he reaches and pulls me the rest of the way, clashing his mouth with mine.

Easing him back onto the bed, I help him scoot toward the middle before climbing up his body. But I don’t fully seat myself on his dick but rather rub my pussy against his length.

“Rosebud,” he pants, gripping my hips with urgency.

The pressure of his touch makes me writhe more. “I know, B. I know ,” I reply, too occupied by our bodies to use words for how euphoric he feels.

I curl into him as we sway, and with a moan and a kiss, he wraps me in an embrace. I drown in his sweet citrus scent, unable to get enough.

His lips roam as his hands move to my ass. Beau digs his fingers into my flesh, keeping me in place.

I push up, my head falling back when his mouth finds my breast. Moaning, I reach for his throat and squeeze.

Beau hums his approval, nipping and sucking my nipple, making me wetter. And when he flicks his tongue, I grind further into him.

But when the tip of his cock teases my entrance, I grip the sheets. I close my eyes, pressure building in my core.

“Eyes on me. I want to watch you come apart,” Beau rasps.

He undulates with me, and my hips move of their own volition, too desperate to chase after what my body desperately needs.

Beau smacks my ass, and I gasp. Finding his golden irises, he smirks before kissing my chest and rubbing the tender area he spanked.

“Eyes. On. Me ,” Beau repeats.

My heart hammers as I do as he says, transfixed by him. He maneuvers, thrusting and fully sliding in.

“Fuuuck,” I drawl at the entirety of him as he pauses, letting me adjust.

Slowly, I rock, finding my sweet spot.

Beau grunts through ragged breaths, “Yes, that’s it.” He holds me tighter, pushing me further down his shaft as I ride him. “Fuck me, Rosebud. Ruin me.”

I kiss his collarbone, sucking lightly. His body twitches, and I coo, “Do you like that?”

He groans.

When Beau doesn’t answer, I grab and tug his hair, wanting to hear him say it.

He hisses, eyes finding mine as I arch a brow expectantly.

“I do,” he answers.

I reward him with another roll of my hips and more kisses.

Beau holds me close, the friction increasing the tension in my core.

I clench my muscles, wanting more of him as Beau threads his fingers through my red waves, and he rests his head against mine.

Our eyes never close. We hold each other captive, matching every thrust and increasing our rhythm.

Our breathing syncs up, and his cock teases my inner walls when he goes harder. Deeper .

“Take me. Take all of me,” Beau encourages. “ Please .” He shifts ever so slightly, the angle amplifying every sensation, every nerve, every muscle in my body. “I want to—I need to feel every inch of you.”

I rub against him, and my body quakes, wishing to give out but wanting to reach release even more . I whimper, so close to coming undone.

Teetering on the precipice, Beau moves his hand between us, rubbing my clit. “Come, my love. Come so I can make you come again.”

My climax rips through me, erupting from his words. I cry out, riding him with urgency.

“Good girl,” he praises, keeping his pace, coaxing and prolonging my fevered ecstasy.

“Give me more,” he pleads hungrily. “I need you to come again.”

“I-I-I-I don’t know if I can,” I pant, despite my pleasure already intensifying.

“Oh, my love, but your needy little cunt is so tight.” He pinches my pussy, and I gasp, my body trembling and muscles tightening from the strain. “So. Wet.”

He kisses me deeply, and I grip his hair, my core contracting with each sweep of his tongue. And when he retreats, he breathes, “I know you can.”

He pulls out completely and rams into me.

My breath hitches.

He does it again, and I whimper. Beau smiles, starting a new pace and meticulously applying more pressure to my clit.

“Beau,” I moan, writhing from exhaustion as the need for another release builds.

He wraps his free hand around my throat, keeping me close.

“That’s it,” he purrs, squeezing my neck. “Let me hear your moans. Let me steal your breath. Let me feel you come on my cock. Let me watch you fall apart. Let me fall apart with you.”

I arch into him, concentrating, caught in limbo, unable to come down. Only ride this course with him.

“I love you,” I murmur.

Beau grunts, capturing my lips with his. He moans, pumping harder into me, losing control and caving to his whims.

I shudder and come apart in his hold, my body convulsing—shattering—unraveling.

Beau stiffens underneath me, his dick pulsing when he thrusts one final time.

Our movements slow, fatigue taking over. But we don’t part. We bask in each other’s hold, kissing fervently and lovingly until Beau eases away and locks his eyes with mine.

“I love you, too,” he breathes, brushing his nose along mine.

I beam as he guides me against his chest, tension leaving me and lulling me toward sleep.

Beau traces his fingers on my spine, his heartbeat hammering in my ear, matching my own. “Let’s clean up,” he murmurs, easing us up and toward his bathing chamber.

He grabs a rag, and I reach for another. The two of us help wipe each other before dressing again, and I hate that I can’t stay all night underneath his sheets and tangled up in him.

But as I tidy my waves, I stop on the bouquet of red roses and a familiar case on his work desk.

Is it what I think it is? How did I not see that earlier?

I break into a wide grin as I rush toward it.

The box is carved from oakwood and covered by gilded paint. Paint I remember using when I was younger to create small roses, bows, and arrows.

I pick it up and run my fingertips along the container, noting the chipped spots. The latch also matches the golden pattern, and it is easy to unlock.

Arms pull me against a hard chest. I try to put the box back, but Beau whispers softly, “Open it.”

I peer up. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to pry. I can—”

“What’s mine is yours. Go ahead.” He kisses my neck.

I unclick the latch to the case I gave him so long ago, gasping at the collection of letters upon letters filling it to the brim. Each one is neatly folded, the parchment the only tell of old versus new.