Page 23 of B is for Beast of Dean

Alice

Iwoke to the gentle touch of sunlight streaming through the window, casting golden patterns across the stone walls of our cottage. Heath's arm was wrapped around my waist, his breathing deep and even against my neck. We had been sharing this bed for two weeks now, and I had grown to treasure these quiet morning moments before the day began.

But this morning felt different somehow. Maybe it was yesterday's conversation about children. Or maybe it was simply the accumulation of days and nights spent close to Heath, feeling the warmth of his body beside mine, growing more aware with each passinghour of the desire that simmered beneath our careful restraint.

I turned slowly in his arms, careful not to wake him, and studied his sleeping face in the soft morning light. I had memorized every detail over these past weeks. The curve of his tusks, the way his pointed ears twitched when he dreamed.

My fingers moved without conscious thought, tracing gentle patterns along his collarbone where it was visible above his sleeping shirt. Heath stirred at my touch, his eyes opening slowly to focus on my face.

"Good morning," I whispered, suddenly shy despite our weeks of shared intimacy.

"Good morning," he rumbled back, his voice rough with sleep. His eyes searched my face, and I saw the moment he became aware of the change in atmosphere, the new tension that hummed between us.

"Alice," he said carefully, "What is it?"

I bit my lip, gathering courage. "Yesterday, when we talked about children, about trying for a family..."

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking." I met his eyes steadily. "We're married in every way that matters to us. We've built a life together, a home. But we haven't... we're not truly..." I faltered, heat flooding my cheeks.

Heath's hand came up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my heated skin. "We haven't consummated our marriage," he said gently, understanding my struggle with the words.

I nodded, leaning into his touch. "I want to be your wife in every sense, Heath. Completely. If you... if you want that too."

Heath inhaled sharply. "Alice, are you certain? Once we cross this threshold, there's no going back. And I... my body is different. I don't want to frighten you or cause you pain."

"You could never frighten me," I said firmly. "I know you, Heath. I trust you completely."

Something shifted in Heath's expression, surprise giving way to wonder, then to a heat that made me inhale shakily. "I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "So much that sometimes I can barely breathe with it."

"Show me," I whispered. "I want to be yours."

Heath's eyes darkened, his breathing becoming unsteady. "Are you certain? We don't have to rush. I can wait as long as you need—"

I silenced him with a kiss. When we broke apart, both breathing hard, I met his gaze boldly.

"I don't want to wait anymore," I said. "I want you. All of you. Now."

Heath's careful control seemed to crack at my words. His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer until I could feel the solid warmth of his body along the length of mine.

"Alice," he said, my name a prayer and a promise.

I reached for the hem of my nightgown, my hands steady despite my nerves. Heath's eyes never left mine, as I pulled the light cotton over my head and set it aside. He hesitantly raised a hand to touch my bare shoulder, his blunt claws lightly trailing down my arm.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.

I reached for him, my fingers sinking into the coarse black hair that covered his chest. Heath shuddered at my touch, a low rumble escaping his throat that made heat pool low in my belly.

"May I?" he asked, his clawed fingertips barely brushing my shoulder.

"Please," I breathed.

His touch was reverent, careful, those powerful hands sliding down my arms to grasp my wrists. He placed a light kiss on each of my palms before he pulled me closer with a thick arm around my waist. When he cupped my breast, the contrast between his rough palm and my delicate skin sent sparks through me. I gasped, arching into his touch.

"Like this?" he murmured, his thumb brushing across my nipple.

I could only nod, overwhelmed by the sensations. His lips followed his hands, and I felt the unique shape of his snout against my flesh. He captured my nipple, lightly pressing it to his palate with his broad tongue. The points of his tusks felt like the only thing preventing him from drawing my breast deeper into his mouth. I arched, pressing my thighs together as I felt heat pool in my belly.