Page 51 of Beast

So he’s got a big cock. Correction—a ginormous cock. So what?

I busy myself by pushing down the covers with my feet so I can slide under them, then pull them over my lap. But even then I can’t stop my gaze from straying back to him. I watch him walk toward the bed, my body tingling as I notice his muscles rippling beneath his inked skin. He lifts the covers and slides into bed beside me, and an immediate warmth radiates over to my side.

I clear my throat and look away and decide the only way to keep my mind off Beast and his giant cock is to torture him with a movie he’s going to hate. So I put on Beauty and the Beast. The sing along version. And hope it drives him a little bit insane when I start singing with it.

But fifteen minutes into the movie, I look over and his eyes are closed, and his big body is relaxed and settled deep into the mattress. His breathing is soft, and his long lashes fan his cheek.

Goddammit, I think I sang him to sleep.

CHAPTER 19

BEAST

The first thingI’m aware of is the infinite warmth wrapped around my body and the satiny feel of soft hair across my chest.

The second thing is my raging boner.

But it’s not a typical morning boner. Not one born out of hormones and sleep and a full bladder all working together to make me hard. No, this one is because I’m horny as fuck.

Which is not good.

Because I might have the commitment of a monk but having Belle curled against me like this has my body screaming for something more. She’s so soft and warm, and she smells like sunshine and spring flowers and…fuck.

My heart starts to pound, and my cock swells even harder. I need to get out of this fucking bed.

Careful not to wake her, I slip out from under her lush body and visit the bathroom to take care of the throbbing in my balls and the insanity in my mind.

With one hand pressed against the shower tiles and the other wrapped around my cock, it doesn’t take me long to come. I try to keep my mind free from anything to do with Belle, but when the release hits me, I have to bite down on my bottom lip to stop from groaning her name.

Goddammit.

I don’t need to be entertaining thoughts of her moaning and writhing beneath me. I need to keep her at arm’s length so I don’t get distracted by her. I need to keep focused on the club and what’s happening with the synthetic phantasia.

But now that I know how warm and soft she is, and how she whimpers when she dreams—yeah, I woke up to that fresh hell in the middle of the night and it damn near killed me—forgetting how desirable she is a goddamn impossibility.

But I will fight it.

Even if it fucking kills me.

After washing up, I put on a pair of jeans and return to the bedroom to find Belle sitting up in bed, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders. Her big blue eyes are sleepy and her face is soft and rumpled.

She yawns, but when she hears me walk into the room her back straightens and all her walls shoot up again.

“Good morning, bike gangster,” she says, resentment hanging off every word.

She tightens the sheet around her chest and makes sure I notice.

“Good morning,” I say, the words unfamiliar on my lips. It’s been so long since I’ve had a woman in my bed, I’m not quite sure what to do. I glance at the clock. “Housekeeping will be up with breakfast soon.”

Last night, before attending the party, I had arranged for someone to bring us breakfast this morning.Someone who likes to gossip.

“Good, because I’m famished,” she says, her gaze raking over my shirtless torso. “All this relationship fakery is working up my appetite. Being your fake girlfriend is exhausting.”

“A simple thank you would suffice.”

“You’re right. I suppose it was uncharacteristically considerate of you to organize breakfast for us.”

Being considerate has nothing to do with it. It’s part of the plan. The club need to see Belle with me. They need to make their assumptions. Gossip spreads like wildfire through these halls. Housekeeping. The club girls. The old ladies. They will all know about Belle being in my bed before the morning is done.

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