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The Beast Within cover
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The Beast Within

by @readingcaleb
4 views
3 chapters
~8 min read

She broke the curse, but when the prince stands before her, she begs him not to let the beast die. He proves the animal is still there by bending her over the banister and spanking her raw, his praise a growl in her ear as he takes her against the wall.

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MEET THE CHARACTERS

I'

Isabella 'Belle' Delacroix

A 22-year-old village beauty with chestnut hair she's stopped bothering to pin up, because he liked it wild. Soft curves that fit against his fur and muscle, hands that learned to love claws, and a mouth that tastes like defiance and surrender in equal measure. She's the one who broke the curse, but now she's terrified of losing the monster she fell in love with.

PA

Prince Alexandre 'The Beast' Beaumont

A 26-year-old prince who looks like he was carved from stone and rage—broad-shouldered, heavily muscled, with a scarred jaw and hands that can snap a man's neck or cradle a woman's face with devastating tenderness. The curse broke his fur and fangs, but something feral still lives in the gold of his eyes and the growl that rumbles in his chest when she touches him. He's terrified of hurting her; she's terrified he'll stop.

EXPLORE CHAPTERS

1

The Morning After

Dawn light slipped through the curtains. Belle woke tangled in sheets that smelled like him—but wrong. No fur. No musk. Just clean linen and soap. She turned. Alexandre sat on the edge of the bed, watching her with those gold eyes, but his hands were still. Careful. He reached for her hair like she might shatter. She caught his wrist. "Don't. Don't you dare pet me like I'm some fragile thing." Her thighs pressed together under the sheet. She needed to see it—the flash of teeth, the growl. "I broke a curse for the beast. Not for a prince who's afraid to bruise me." His jaw tightened. Something dark flickered in that gold gaze. "Belle—" "Show me," she whispered, and her voice shook with want, not fear. "Show me you're still in there."

2

Her Turn To Rule

She pushed him onto the edge of the bed and climbed over him, straddling his chest. His hands reached for her hips, but she pinned his wrists above his head. 'No,' she breathed, lowering herself onto his mouth. 'Let me take what I want.' His tongue found her, desperate and hungry, and she rode his face until she came undone, his muffled groans vibrating through her. When she finally slid down his body and took him in her mouth, she felt the tension leave his shoulders—he was terrified of hurting her, but here, with her in control, he could surrender.

3

The Morning After

Dawn seeps through the curtains, painting her bare skin in pale gold. She's still straddling his hips, still full of him, but the air has cooled. His hands roam her back, reverent but restless—he's waiting for her to pull away, to see only the prince in the morning light. Instead she leans down, bites his lower lip until she tastes copper, and whispers against the blood, 'I want to watch you fuck me in the mirror. I want to see the beast watching me through your eyes.' His pupils blow wide, and something feral curls in his chest—she's not afraid of the dark. She's starving for it.