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  His eyes blinked, then a glower pulled his brows together and he approached her. “Are you not a virgin?”

  She lifted her chin. “My woman’s furrow has never been plowed, milord.”

  “And yet you do not blush.”

  “Shouldn’t I be proud of my beauty? And since you will be my husband, ’tis your right to gaze upon my naked flesh.”

  He grunted and then lifted his chin toward the narrow bed in the center of the room. “I would have you rest now. I’ll come to you in the darkness.”

  “But what about now? Don’t you want…?”

  A dark brow arched over his dark eyes, and she could have sworn a smile crimped one corner of his lips. “In darkness. Do not light a candle. I will be most unhappy if you do.”

  She nodded and then flopped down on the edge of the bed, her face falling with disappointment. “But I’m not tired.”

  The beast hesitated at the door. “Would you like…attention…before you sleep?”

  Her eyes widened and color filled her cheeks. “Yes, milord… if it is your pleasure.”

  “The miller did not lie,” he breathed. The beast strode toward her, coming to his knees in front of her. “Open your legs to me and fall back.”

  One long, wicked-looking claw gently traced the edges of her folds, and she wondered if she’d made a mistake. How could he see to her pleasure if he opened her flesh with a talon?

  “I’ll not harm you, sweetling.”

  She relaxed and closed her eyes, her breath catching at the first stroke of his tongue. Her quim clenched and he drew back. Then he lifted her thighs and placed them over his broad hairy shoulders, lifting her bottom from the mattress. When his mouth began to suckle her folds, liquid gushed to greet his tongue.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He chuckled and kissed her between the legs. “You please me, beauty.”

  She settled with a satisfied sigh and dug her fingers into the edge of the mattress because the rasp of his tongue was a pleasure so great she wanted to shout, and she didn’t want to spoil the moment with a shrill voice.

  His tongue lapped around her entrance and stroked over the button at the top of her folds that she’d teased when the pig herder pumped inside her ass. But he licked away from it and she stifled her disappointment, only to gasp again when his unusually long tongue stroked inside her channel.

  Unable to resist, she undulated her hips, sighing and gasping as he entered her over and over. When he stopped of a sudden, she moaned. “Why did you stop?”

  “I fear the beast that I am will be overcome. You are so sweet, so responsive, and I mustn’t take your quim until tonight.”

  “But there are other places a man…or beast…can take with his…member. Or so I’ve been told,” she added breathlessly.

  “You’re too innocent for that kind of play, my dear.”

  “But I would please you, in whichever way you wish.” She lifted her head to meet his dark gaze and offered him a smile.

  He seemed to think about what she’d said, his eyes studying her, but she held her smile and kept her eyes open and innocent.

  “Turn around and climb onto the edge of the mattress.”

  She did so, presenting her bottom to him eagerly.

  He growled deep in his throat and more liquid dripped down one thigh. His tongue caught the trickle then smoothed up to clean her folds.

  The miller’s daughter moaned and widened her stance, dipping her back to offer him everything he wanted if he would just take her and be done with it.

  His tongue trailed upward, past her folds to the tiny back entrance she found so deliciously sensitive. He swirled his tongue over it, parted her with his massive hands and thrust the tip of his tongue inside her.

  The sensation was almost enough to send her to that place her clever hands delivered her nightly. He thrust and licked and thrust and licked until she forgot she wanted more.

  But he withdrew, and the sound of clothing rustling stirred her excitement more. Something thick and firm prodded between her buttocks, and she found him bigger than even the smithy and breathed through her nose to calm her heart and ease the tightness of her arsehole.

  He slipped inside, his breath catching, and she smiled with pride that she could please him. His great paws bracketed her hips, and he began to thrust against her bottom, tunneling deeper and deeper until she was sure he’d split her in two. Not that she minded. To die in the thrall of such immense pleasure was its own tortuous journey.

  “Pleasure your nubbin,” he growled.

  “What, sir?”

  “Use your finger to tease the knot at the top of your folds. I know you must know where it is and its purpose.”

  “I know it,” she admitted. “’Tis how I kept myself virgin.”

  He reamed her ass, explosive thrusts slamming deep as she swirled her finger over the slippery knot, the tension in her belly building to a painful crescendo. “No more. I can take no more,” she groaned.

  “Then come for me, sweetling,” he said, driving all the way inside her until the hair of his thighs abraded the insides of hers and his hairy balls clapped against her quim.

  ’Twas too much. Her back bowed and she howled long and loud, then collapsed to the bed, her naked breasts scraping on the fine counterpane beneath her.

  His thrusts slowed; his growling became a steady, rhythmic purr.

  When he stopped completely, she hid her face against the mattress to hide how pleased and fulfilled she was.

  He pulled free and turned her to her back, leaning his long hairy torso over hers, and gazed down at her with his frightening, black gaze.

  She shivered, but realized it was not fear, not even a little bit. Her sex still convulsed in shallow pulses, and she wished she could know how it felt to accept his sex shafting deep inside her.

  His gaze narrowed again, and he bent over her. His tongue lapped at her lips until she gasped and sucked it into her mouth. He pulled away and gazed down at her. “You are sure you are a virgin?”

  “My quim has waited for one such as you, milord.”

  His face contorted into as near a smile as she imagined he could give. “Tonight. Close the curtains over the window. I will come to you again in darkness.”

  She rolled to the center of the bed when he made to leave and fell asleep within seconds.

  That night, she stirred when the wind tossed the thick curtains cloaking the windows. She woke feeling drowsy, an ache in her arse and another more pleasurable one building between her legs.

  The wooden door creaked open and a dark shadowy figure approached the bed. Her heart stilled for a second. “Milord?”

  “’Tis I.” His voice sounded softer, and she smiled in the darkness, having no doubts she’d pleased him earlier.

  “You aren’t frightened of me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I would ask for your obedience tonight. Unquestioned obedience.”

  Her body reacted to his request with surprising enthusiasm. She scissored her thighs to rub the moisture seeping from her body between them. “I will obey.”

  “You must raise your hands above your head and clasp the rungs of the headboard. You cannot let go, no matter what passes.”

  She liked this game more than she was willing to say and reached slowly above her head to wrap her hands tightly around the rungs.

  “Now, open your legs wide and raise your knees. I want the cradle of your thighs completely exposed to me.”

  “Can you see me?”

  “In all your splendor, my love.”

  She liked the way he said that, almost as though he meant it. So she parted her legs and raised her knees, letting them splay as wide as she could.

  The mattress dipped at the foot of the bed and her heart began to beat wildly. “You will do it now?” she asked hoarsely. “You will take my virginity?”

  “If that is what you offer me, then yes.”

  “It is yours, I swear.”

  “And yet you
r arse has known another man.”

  “I…” Her breath caught on a sob. “I have no excuse, can offer no apology. But I can tell you I took no carnal joy of the men who used my arse.”

  “Your pussy, it will be mine alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we will speak of the past no more. Do not touch me as I do this. You may not touch or see me. Promise me.”

  “I promise.”

  She felt the heat of him hovering over her, heard the sounds of him stroking his cock inside his palm, then felt the nudge of it against her quim. Her breath hitched and liquid spilled again.

  “So sweet. So wet,” he groaned, feeding his sex into her channel, filling her with his thickness and thrusting only an inch or two inside.

  “I want more. I can take more,” she moaned.

  “Slowly, I have no wish to harm you.”

  “I ache for you, milord. Fill me!”

  He thrust forward, tearing past her virginity.

  She howled then quaked beneath him, her body arching as pleasure and pain cut so deeply she feared she’d unravel like ribbon.

  He thrust and bucked, but never so deeply she felt the fur around the base of his cock or the clap of his thick, hairy balls.

  “Deeper,” she cried out.

  “’Tis as deep as I am meant to go. I’m nearly there.” He thrust hard again, crowding through her slick walls, choking the throat of her womb—and it was enough.

  Her body shuddered and jerked. She bit her lips to hold back her wild cries because she was hurtling fast toward the roof.

  His shout echoed in the room, but he didn’t linger after. He pulled away from her, climbing off the mattress and backing away from the bed.

  “Why do you leave me?” she asked, sitting up, wondering if now that he’d had her maidenhead he no longer wanted her.

  “I leave because I must. You will stay. You must keep away from me until morn. Promise me you will obey.”

  She promised, but as soon as she said the words, she wasn’t sure she’d meant them.

  He left her, his footsteps hurrying down the stone case.

  The miller’s daughter sat in the darkness, wondering what she’d done, how she might have displeased him. But another niggling worry entered her mind. All the while he’d taken her, she hadn’t felt his coarse hair abrade her sensitive skin. Not anywhere. And his voice, while still a deep rumbling bass, didn’t growl.

  Had she even been swived by the same man?

  She sat up and wiped the sheet between her legs to dry his seed and snuck out of the room, pressing her naked back against the cold stone wall as she slipped downward.

  A light blazed in the hall he’d led her to when she first arrived. She took a deep breath and quickly peeked around the corner, but whoever was inside sat in a high-backed chair, facing a blazing fire.

  She crept into the room as silently as she could, until the profile of the being sitting in the chair was clear. She gasped because he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

  A dark, angry gaze swiveled her way, and a loud growl reverberated through the room. “You disobeyed me!”

  The voice, although slightly thinner, was indeed her beast’s, but she stared gape-mouthed at the creature in front of her—wholly male and as naked as she. Her body burned remembering how the shaft lying close to his brawny thigh had filled her. “It is you? Truly you?”

  “Fool,” he bit out. “It was all for naught.”

  “What, sir?” she said, reacting to the despair in his voice. “Tell me.”

  “You see this form that pleases you so? It was mine before I fucked a hag’s daughter. When I refused to wed her because she was not virgin, her mother cursed me. Now I spend my days as the beast, my nights as a man. If I’d found an obedient wife, a virgin wife, I would have broken the curse. Now I’m damned to live out my life as neither fully man nor beast.”

  The miller’s daughter’s eyes filled with tears but she stepped closer despite the anger tightening his features. “This curse. What does it cost you?”

  “I am a fearful sight. I frighten the villagers. They refuse to serve me. I fear they will one day revolt and murder me because I am not human. And worse, I cannot touch a woman in passion for fear my talons might tear her flesh.”

  She licked her lips and crept closer still. “If another acts in your stead to acquire those services you miss, is not that problem solved?”

  His eyes narrowed, but he gave her a swift, sharp nod.

  “If another can acquire the staff and men-at-arms to properly see to your security, is not another problem solved?”

  His chest rose and he nodded more softly this time.

  “If you found yourself a wife willing to bed the beast and the man, would not the last problem be solved?”

  His breath left in a long, pent-up sigh. “Yes.”

  She sniffed and tossed back her hair. “This nonsense about finding an obedient wife, you’re not serious, are you?”

  His beautiful smile took away her breath, and his hands shot out to grip her hips and bring her over his body to straddle his thighs. “I will demand obedience in only one place.”

  “And where will that be?” she whispered, a smile curving one corner of her mouth.

  “The bedchamber, of course.”

  She leaned close to his mouth. “I will be a slave to your pleasure, milord.”

  He shifted her until his cock sought refuge in her silky, slick well. “Then I shall be your master, and happily so.”

  The miller’s daughter smiled, for she had longed for adventure and to see amazing sights. Then pressing her hands upon his strong shoulders, she fucked the handsome lord until the shadow of the beast reawakened in his dark eyes.

  HOW THE LITTLE MERMAID GOT HER TAIL BACK

  Andrea Dale

  Once upon a time there was a woman who, after consuming enough vodka gimlets to loosen her tongue, finally dared to confess to her husband all the dark, delicious, dirty things she wanted done to her.

  Unfortunately, her husband thought her desires were disgusting and degrading, and told her so in no uncertain terms. She stuffed those needs back into the dungeon of her subconscious and pretended it had all been a product of the gimlets; denied it was what she really wanted, who she really was.

  Eventually, though, her husband left her for a perky and decidedly unkinky soccer-mom type, his parting words a sneer that his new wife wasn’t some kind of perverted freak. Our heroine languished, alone and unfulfilled, seriously questioning whether what she wanted was normal and okay.

  That really, really sucked.

  Then she met Philip.

  Philip wanted to hear about her fantasies. It was hard for her to reveal them, though, after the betrayal, but he coaxed them out of her, bit by bit. He stroked her hair, held her close while she blushingly whispered her confessions. Then he fisted his hand in her hair at the base of her skull, held her immobile, and watched her as she gasped and trembled and tried to duck her head away, only to be jerked back by the pain.

  “No, look at me. Tell me more.”

  Helpless, she did.

  Our heroine (whom we’ll call Ella) still couldn’t tell him everything. There were things too kinky, too out there, too perverted, that she still feared would drive anyone away, even Philip. But as their relationship progressed, he showed an exceptional capacity for tapping into her secret desires, for anticipating what she feared and craved in equal measures.

  She teetered on the knife edge of honesty and terror, and that’s what made her come so hard, time after time.

  It should be mentioned, because it’s important to the tale, that Ella and Philip met professionally. He was an entrepreneur with a focus on restaurants, and she was a brilliant marketing strategist who knew just how to coax the public into descending in droves on any new venture she put her mark on.

  After several successful restaurant openings and many, many intense sexual encounters that pushed her to her limits (or so she thought),
they joined forces on Philip’s newest venture, an upscale sushi joint.

  “I was thinking about a big fish tank in the middle of the room,” he said. “Exotic fish. Frilly, rare, eye-catching ones.” Ella shivered as he smiled his wicked smile and added, “Deadly fish, even. Puffers, that sort of thing.”

  Mouth dry, she shook her head. Personal and professional warred. “Mermaid.”

  His eyebrows raised, as if she’d foolishly asked for mercy. “Mermaid?”

  “A woman in a mermaid costume, in the tank,” she said. In her mind, she could see it, like a burlesque swimming show, only updated and trendy and modern. Perfect for his type of restaurant. “Risqué, but not distasteful. Think Dita von Teese, but maybe not quite so distracting, because you’ll want people focusing on the food. The food, though…it’ll be daring, sexy.”

  “Audacious,” he agreed, and the way he said the word sent thrilling tremors through her. “Encouraging people to take chances, face their hang-ups about food…and, subconsciously, other things.”

  She couldn’t argue with him about that. He always took her ideas and tweaked them ever so slightly (or sometimes blatantly) to be about kink and deviance. And that worked, whether his patrons realized it or not.

  Some of them did realize it, she knew with a delicious shudder. Some of them looked at her, consideringly, or even enviously.

  They made a very good team.

  She designed the ad campaign, started a buzz, made sushi sound like the most desired and deviant thing on the planet. She gave her input on the mermaid tank, and Philip listened intently and then rewarded her for her ideas.

  There were always hiccups and panics as things got down to the wire, of course.

  “We have a problem,” Philip said. “We can’t find anyone to be the mermaid.” He cocked his head, watched her. Even without him touching her, she felt his gaze like a caress—if a caress could be defined as something that bored into her soul. “I think you should do it.”

  She sucked in her breath. His request sounded innocuous enough—she’d been a competitive swimmer in high school and college, was no stranger to pool or surf—but for her it held more. She wanted to please him. He made it sound like a light request, but in truth it was a command.