The Beast and Me (26 page)

I can still feel the chain and his manacles in my back, I’m sure I’ll have bruises there.

He lifted me up and – oh God – why does memory fade? Why does it not live up to reality?

It’s not fair.

Maybe it was different as he was fully changed, but I feel too awkward to think about that, just... it was
SO
intense, so close, so intimate. No room left, so space between us. Lifting me up, he eventually turned, never letting go of my mouth, and pressed me against the wall. I felt the chain at my lower back, the pain of the pressure was faint and far away. It was my bare shoulders scratching against the concrete as he... there is no other word... he did exactly what I told him to.

I think I already came the moment he was fully inside me. I can’t even tell if it ever stopped, it simply went on and on and on.

All I know is how it felt, and that I clung to his shoulders, his neck, his head, depending on how he moved and where his tongue, his lips, his teeth... fangs were.

I felt so complete. And so much more as he came. Because the sound... the sounds he made, so desperate... the way he held me... like I was his dear life... it... I felt hot tears running down my face and down my neck, and those couldn’t have been mine.

He held me there for some time until he had to pull away and gently placed me down, still pressing me against the wall, like he almost expected me to flee or get ripped off of him.

Most likely he sensed how wobbly my legs were. His skin was burning against mine and I looked up into his misty green eyes, watching them shift back slowly, but not fully, just like the rest of his body.

I didn’t care – Hell, I still don’t – I knew I just smiled at him and Jay started to kiss me. Differently, placing hundreds of little peck all across my face. I don’t know if I even had the chance to stop burning, though in the beginning it was solely my heart. Then my hands pulled him close again.

This is how you forget this place.

With him, there is just us, the Beast and me.

Jay and me.

Nothing else.

No one else.

Again, I wrapped my hands around his face, just to make sure that he kept on kissing me in all the right places, especially my mouth and neck.

When it comes to him I feel like no boy before ever knew what they were doing, or maybe it’s just me.

Jay wasn’t entirely calmed down, still stuck halfway between Beast and him. I don’t know for how long he kissed me and it was just when I wondered why or if they would separate us – and it took me quite a while to assemble the words in my head because he continued to kiss my neck – just where he knew he would make me whimper: down to the collarbone, chest and breasts returning right back to the point where we had started – when he suddenly, out of nowhere, tensed up again. His head flung around and I realized that the speaker had been switched on. He growled and I squealed lowly as his claws dug into my skin. They left us alone, killed the speaker, because they had almost ruined my ‘work’.

In his eyes, I could see anger and it stung me in both ways, good and bad. Yet Jay resumed kissing me, planting fires on my skin and gently turned me around. My heart dropped and leaped, my legs were still shaking and I was already sore. I could feel it as he entered me again. My body still remembered and still it instantly ached, yearning for him. I pressed my hands against the wall, buffering. He was slower this time.

Oh, I love it so much having his cheek against mine, hearing him next to my ear. I never thought I would want someone so much that I could never ever have enough of him. And not even like that. I could do this forever and I don’t care how he looks, I don’t care what he is.

He placed his clawed hands above mine, his fingers digging into the spaces between mine. I couldn’t bear it. I don’t know how I did, I still can’t.

All I could think was ‘don’t stop, please, don’t stop’, and I think I said it out loud as well. I lost count on how many times he brought me over the edge.

I think his voice alone is able to do that to me now. When it’s making these desperate, pleading sounds, or panting my name.

My name.

Jay still held me there, against the wall, even though he wrapped his arms around my chest and stomach, thoughtlessly stroking my scars, his marks on me, and I caressed his forearms.

Though I hadn’t seen him change back completely, I knew that he was entirely back to human, right then as his mouth rested on my shoulder and my cheek against his forehead.

“I’m not leaving without you”, I whispered as lowly as possible, more breathing out and forming words with my mouth, so that no one but him would hear.

His muscles flexed briefly and I knew that he had understood.

This time I could hear the speaker as well and he straightened up instantly, turned me around and caught my face with his hands.

How I love his face, when he looks at me like that, with these eyes that – no matter the color – show me that he never ever wants to let go of me.

He kissed me.

Even if I had wanted to refuse, there was no chance evading the inevitable. Jay pulled me closer towards him as if he wanted to memorize how my body felt against his.

“Meghan”, I heard White’s voice through the speaker and Jay dropped his hands.

How I wish that bastard wouldn’t say my full name, how I wish that he would understand that only Jay is allowed to call me Meghan and no one else.

I exhaled. Quickly I gathered my clothes and I knew looking back at him would ruin my chances to tell White that I had just carried out his order.

“Don’t doubt me”, I breathed out again, and I still hope that he heard and understood it.

Pressing my clothes against me, I ran towards the door, which was opened. I heard how White hissed at Peter and Gray to get out as I got into the little room barely covered. There was only White left as I tore my eyes open to act the way he wanted me to.

The tears were back, because my body was mourning the loss of Jay’s warming skin against mine.

“Oh, you did so well”, White smiled at me and I swallowed down the acid, because I stood there, NAKED and he was frolicking.

“Dress up, they will take you”, he turned around, but I know he peeked, yet I knew never to disobey him. Not yet at least.

Day 85

I don't know what to write and I don't want to. It's like being demoted, even worse than that. I can't go out of this room, I have not even been taken to work out.

Peter hasn’t talked to me even though he still is the one bringing me my food. All I can do is run up and down my room, and wait for news. I have no inner peace for Yoga or Tai Chi.

Now, after what happened yesterday, I can’t relax around him and for several minutes after he has been here. The way he behaved, the way he talked, and spoke, it just doesn’t go out of my head.

He was like White, like Severin.

But this can't be, can it? They can't be related, can they? I feel so tired, so worn out. Maybe it’s just everything that happened the last several days, and everything about yesterday, maybe it’s my menses announcing themselves.

I just don’t know.

Once again all I can do is wait and try to evade my own thoughts, by getting some sleep. But these pictures in my mind create nightmares, and they do even when I am awake, make me so restless that I wish I could ‘beast out’ as well and destroy something, or tear this door down so that I can find out if Jay is really any better, if it means that it wasn’t a farewell.

I have to ask for someone else to bring my food, for someone else to guard my door, and take me wherever they want me to go. I just can take it. All that felt good being around Peter is gone, eradicated. I tense up so massively it makes my muscles hurt. Maybe that’s what makes me so tired, so drained. I feel like I have lost my energy.

I’ve finished my meal now and I know that Peter will be the one showing up again...

Why am I not able to look at him as I did before? Am I duplicitous? Because I don’t care about Jay being a Beast, but I’m disgusted by Peter being one? No, it’s because he lied, it’s because he was trying to steal my trust. Isn’t that the same what I did?

It happened like I anticipated it.

Peter came to get my tray and he looked at me being silent, wearing a mask mixed of reproach and hurt. And I... I looked back at him, showing him just the same. Half way through turning away, he stopped, like his head denied following his body.

Yet, when he opened his mouth to say something, I dropped my gaze. I didn’t want to hear his voice, couldn’t bear to hear him speak. I simply couldn’t and he stayed silent and left. He left just to return and get me, along with Gray, to take me back to the cage. Of course I didn’t know if they really would take me there.

My heart must have grown since I got there, that often it had to race in my chest, endure me being close to panic attacks. I guess I know now that it is like to be paranoid, because my mind is able to come up with such horrid theories of what might happen to me next.

Still... as if nothing else had ever occurred, I found myself back in the cage again.

Jay’s cage. And I was alone in there – without my captors – once again. Alone with Jay.

From the little they had said I expected to find Jay just as before: completely changed, covered in cuts and bruises like they had used him as a fighting dog in some sick gladiator cage fight. And that was exactly what I saw, even worse. It was like they hadn’t made an attempt to patch him together this time. Literally, I saw wrath glowing all around him, like an aura of an over-heated metal. Instinctively, I looked up to the window.

“We cannot help him unless he’s calm”, White’s voice sounded distorted through the speaker, but that wasn’t what struck me like lightning and made me jump painfully: it was the way Jay reacted to it: Chains rang as he threw himself into them, tautening them so much that I feared that he would either tear them apart or dislocate his shoulders.

His snarl went directly into my bones resonating in them. He scared me. But this was still him.

“What did they do to you?” my own voice was merely a whisper, almost breaking, and I still don’t know.

He stopped growling and looked at me, still tensed in a way that I just waited for his muscles to snap.

That was the moment I realized I wasn’t scared of him, I was scared for him.

I don’t remember how I moved, just that I ended up holding his face in my hands, stroking his blood spattered face. He was covered with it, little spatters, not drowned in them, but it was enough for me to know that he had slashed something, or rather someone.

My touch calmed him down already and I took off my shirt, with no other intention than to clean his face while he watched me, marveled at me like I was some sort of saint.

Whatever they did to him, it makes it more difficult for him to calm down, to change back.

And it seems like I am the only one who is able to help. As if I am the anchor reminding him of being human.

I am sure now that this was the reason why I didn’t get to see him after my few days in prison.

Not because my punishment hadn’t been over, but because whatever had happened to him, whatever they had done to him, they weren’t sure if I could or would handle this.

After I managed to clean his face a little, and pushed him backwards so the tension in his shoulders would lessen. I continued with his chest and he flinched as I uncovered an injury. It looked hurtful, but what shocked me most was what it looked like. It reminded me of the marks on my stomach.

Claws.

It was futile to stop my mind from racing again, but there were no thousands of theories this time. My head felt like it was moving slowly, like wading through a swamp and every clear thought of mine rang like an old, heavy church bell.

Claws.

Beast.

Peter.

I tried so hard to focus on calming him down by being calm myself, but now it was impossible because of him looking like this – warped face or not.

The reason why my pulse changed with each of my strokes, with each uncovered proof of him having fought another beast, and he made me stop as he hesitantly placed his forehead against my temple.

I think he had never touched me that way before, or behaved like this in that state before. It made my heart do a full stop, just to stumble into high speed.

“Jay”, I heard myself whisper, I swallowed, and he replied with something that was a deep purr, originating from his chest, resonating in my whole body.

Strange that this sound makes me smile, even when I think of it. Put me back 80 days and I would think me insane.

I cleaned his clawed hands and he still didn’t look at my face, resting his head against mine, apparently watching what I was doing, until I was finished. Honestly a part of me wanted to see that he had already changed back, as he lifted his head. He hadn’t.

What I saw was even better. The way he looked at me hadn’t changed and I knew in my core that for him I wasn’t just a nice company to have, someone to serve his needs, someone that belonged to him.

We both heard the crack in the speaker, yet it was me who moved and kissed him, as far as this was possible.

Honestly, I cannot help it. I’ve got no idea how to explain this. I never imagined that I would ever be like this, that I ever wanted something like this, or someone. Every time it feels like I am being replaced, by a stronger, fiercer, more confident version of myself, as if he replenishes the energy this place is draining from me. And this version gains more and more strength, becomes more and more superior to the girl I once was.

I have never imagined that I would be the one pressing him against the wall, making out with him, let my tongue bring out my curiosity. Or that I would like to feel his claws piercing my skin.

His low growl gives me goose bumps when it sounds like that, like he is claiming me, even though he never acts like it. No, it’s rather like he is letting the world know that I want him. And this, this is so much better.

I guess he likes it when I pull his hair just a bit, digging my fingers into it. I don’t know why I was like that. It could be due a certain time of the cycle.

I don’t know, I just...

No one would ever believe me writing this, that I grind myself against him, trailing down my tongue on his neck, that I was doing this and not him. It’s not like I never needed him so much before. Something inside of me simply snapped.

You have no idea how I love these sounds he makes. Just for me. I guess that is why I did what I did. And I had never done that before. Trailing down my tongue and mouth, just like he had done a few times before today, until I was on my knees...

There might be some new claw marks in the wall... because of what I did.

I’m surprised and somewhat proud of myself. He wasn’t able to compose himself for long while I was doing that, but the fact that he tried and that he definitely loved it... it makes me grin like a Cheshire cat. I am almost too embarrassed, however – writing this down. Just like thinking and saying that it really was worth it.

As crazy as it sounds, when he pulled me up, and pushed me against the wall so fast in return that I could barely bring my hands up so I wouldn’t get my head smacked against it, I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back.

It felt insane. It might have been exactly like the first time, but I can’t compare it, because this time it was my doing and I knew the consequences. Hell, I wanted them. Yes, it did hurt in the beginning, but because of that it turned into something even more indescribable. Just like that moment of relief after the thousandth scratch. And I gasped out "yes, yes, yes" over and over again, so that he knew I wanted it. It didn’t take long for us both to come, not when doing it mindlessly like that.

I actually have to admit that I love him most when he’s just in between, or rather in the first quarter of change, when his eyes glow like that, in this mysterious green.

Yes, he was almost back to normal when I was able to bring my legs back to carrying me around.

And, yes, I love it when he looks at me like that, this mixture of wanting me and adoring me, silently asking if I am real. I love it even more when I make him smile. How can I ever resist him when he smiles at me like that? He makes me feel as light as a feather and as glorious as the angel it has to belong to. I never want to stop kissing him, not that I have the chance to avoid that. I was completely innocent. Not guilty, your Honor.

But I guess he wanted to return the favor of being pressed against that wall, getting the air kissed out of the lungs. He was less careful, like he trusted himself as well as me to tell him when he started hurting me. This was true trust, something one could not steal, but truly earn and cherish.

And he returned the favor completely. Still, I can feel him, taste him, smell him. At least White – or whoever – had the courtesy to wait until I had caught my breath again. And I ask myself why do we have to be separated?
Oh yes, I forgot. I should be afraid of him.

So, when White told me to leave I brought my clothes back in order and left without turning back - no need to say that I hate it, right? I put my role back on when I stepped in front of him, where he was welcoming me back into the real world.

I’m sure he still underestimates me because he honestly answered that he would think about my proposal to become Jay’s nurse. At least he looked like he was approving of me trying to be of even more assistance to him.

I hope he gives me a chance, but somehow I feel like I have to encourage him, and I am still afraid of what that will take of me. I mean, if he needs to spank me again... I guess I could live with that. But I can’t... I doubt that he would want that. After all, I’m his subject’s entertainment. For him Jay is more animal than human, which makes me filth.