Page 75 of Beast of Blood and Roses
Aurora
Warmth fell across my face, and my eyes fluttered open slowly. The morning sun—or at least I thought it was morning—peeked through the gauzy curtains, casting golden light across the room. A strong, protective arm was draped over me, holding me close against a firm chest.
I turned my head carefully and looked at Beast’s—no, Fierro’s—sleeping face. He was breathtakingly handsome in the soft morning light, with those long dark eyelashes that fanned across his cheeks like silk. His thick, dark hair was tousled from sleep, falling across his forehead like a lion’s mane. The sight reminded me of when he’d been a beast—wild and untamed—but now peaceful and perfectly human.
His features were relaxed in sleep, free from the pain and anger that had haunted him for so long. I could see the man he truly was beneath the curse, strong, beautiful, and mine.
He opened his emerald eyes, the color I’d come to love somuch. “You’re awake. How are you feeling, Aurora?” My real name rolled off his tongue like a beautiful melody.
“I love it when you say my real name,” I whispered, savoring the sound of it on his lips. “It makes me feel like I’m finally home.”
“And my name?” His voice was soft, vulnerable, as if my answer truly mattered to him.
“Fierro,” I said, testing the syllables. “But you’ll always be my beast. My true love.” I placed my hand over his heart, feeling the strong, steady rhythm beneath my palm. The beat was sure and powerful, just like him.
He brushed my hair behind my ear with infinite tenderness, his fingertips trailing along my cheek. “You’re so beautiful, especially in the morning light.”
Heat flushed my cheeks at the compliment, but I smiled up at him. “I was wondering...” I bit my lip nervously. “What did you mean about showing me how much you love me?”
His answering grin was positively wicked, full of promises that made my pulse quicken. “I’ll start with a kiss,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that husky tone that made my stomach flutter. “And then I want to worship every inch of what’s mine.” He slipped his warm hand around the nape of my neck, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there as he pulled me closer to him.
I held my breath in anticipation, my heart racing as his face drew near. His lips brushed over mine softly at first—tentative, questioning. Then his tongue traced the seam of my lips, coaxing them open as he began to thoroughly explore my mouth with a passion that left me breathless and wanting more.
I gently wrapped my hands around his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin, and then threaded my fingers throughhis thick, dark hair, each strand soft and velvety against my touch. A cascade of sweet, intense sensations surged through me in response to the rhythmic dance of his thrusting tongue, igniting every nerve in my body.
“Is this okay?” he whispered against my lips, his hand hovering at the hem of my shirt. When I nodded breathlessly, his fingers slipped beneath the fabric, the warmth of his touch making me feel hot.
“I’ve dreamed of this,” he confessed, his voice rough with desire. “Of finally being able to touch you like this.”
Deep within, a more profound and urgent tightening began, a pulsing rhythm that echoed through my belly and spread between my thighs, consuming me completely.
“You’re beautiful, perfect,” he breathed, slowly lifting my shirt. I helped him pull it over my head, my heart racing as his hungry gaze swept over my newly exposed skin. “Perfect,” he whispered, reverence coloring his voice. “Absolutely perfect.”
Before I could gather my thoughts or respond, his mouth found its way to one of my aching breasts. His lips enveloped my nipple, suckling with a fervent tenderness that sent shivers of pleasure pulsing through me.
I arched my back, surrendering to the exquisite sensation as he took more of me deep into his eager mouth. My fingers wove through his thick locks, grasping with a sense of desperation, as if trying to anchor him to me. Waves of pleasure surged through my body, a torrent of bliss that I had never anticipated. In all my years of relentless work, no man had ever brought me such ecstasy. I had longed to be adored, to be worshipped, and in this moment, I realized that the wait had been worth every second.
He swiftly unfastened the button on my jeans, his fingers moving with practiced ease. I took a sharp breath,surprise mingling with anticipation. “What are you doing?” I asked, suddenly feeling exposed and uncertain.
“I want to see all of you,” he replied, his voice thick with need. “I want to memorize every curve, every freckle. I want to know that you’re real, that you’re truly mine.” His fingers traced the waistband of my jeans. “May I?”
He slid off the bed with a graceful movement, then, with a single, fluid motion, he pulled off my jeans and underwear in one sweep, the fabric of my underpants tearing slightly under the force. His gaze darkened with a ravenous hunger as he took in the sight before him. “I’ll buy you more,” he murmured, almost as a promise.
“I want to see you,” I whispered, feeling vulnerable and defenseless as I lay bare while he remained fully clothed. The contrast heightened my vulnerability, the warmth of his gaze both a comfort and a challenge. “But I want to undress you.” I rose to my knees, moving toward the edge of the bed.
“Then undress me.” His command was like a dark temptation.
I carefully unfastened the buttons on his shirt, which hung loosely on his frame, clearly oversized. As I worked my way down, the fabric slipped effortlessly off his broad shoulders, revealing the muscular landscape beneath. I inhaled sharply, my eyes drawn to the contours and ridges of his sculpted physique. His skin seemed to ripple with every breath, each muscle defined and prominent, like a masterpiece of art that demanded admiration.
“Do you approve?” he asked, flashing a seductive smile that sent a warm flush to my cheeks. It was the kind of smile that could melt ice, perfectly framed by his chiseled features.
“I’ve seen better,” I teased, though the words were a blatantfabrication. In truth, no man I had ever encountered, not even the heartthrob movie stars or the muscular lifeguards held a candle to him. His presence was magnetic, drawing me in like gravity.
He narrowed his eyes, a playful glint dancing in them. “You have?”
“Jealous?” I replied, tracing a slow, deliberate finger down his chest. The contact made him shiver, a ripple of goosebumps trailing my touch.
He clasped my shoulders with a possessive yet gentle grip. “You’ll only be with me now.”
