Beauty












Beauty feelings stories
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traptluv
traptluv Melancholic writer. Cynic. Artist.
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago
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Beauty

The wisps of her hair were splayed against her cheek, clinging fondly to her skin. Breaths lingered in the air longer than necessary despite the brisk temperatures.

Glistening white snow dusted the surfaces of pines, firs and their little pine-cones still budding this time of year. The snow had been unexpected. Her eyes locking with her lover's wasn't.

He ran his thumb along the outline of her bottom lip; a blush of red flushed her cheeks in response. She yearned for him and more, awaiting the rest of him to follow his fingertips.

He brought her inside, promptly leading her into his kitchen where the floor vents blew warm air that made her toes tingle once she took off her thick black boots.

She adored being led, pushed around as if she were a naive kitten, his to own and his to toy with.

He led her by the nape of her neck to his embrace, warming her further, down the forbidden parts of her that she was inexperienced with.

He slid his hands over her skin and breathed husky commands into her ear. She obliged, shedding her coat and handing it to him.

He raised his arms to drape her coat on the hanger and asked a series of questions.

Her answers determined what lay in store for her and although she was terribly shy, she felt brave answering each question without hesitating.

He told her he liked that very much, liked how small she was and how frightened she appeared. He brought the wisps of her hair behind her ear and told her another thing.

She was to hold very still while he explored the sensitive parts of her. She stiffened, unsure of what would happen until she understood when he touched her hair.

She melted right there in his kitchen, a pool of oohs and ahhs. He knew that touching her hair would create a sort of ripple effect and soft pleadings soon followed.

Her hands had minds of their own, moving along the span of his broad shoulders reaching for something she didn't know she wanted yet.

He noticed her subtle hints and brought her to his library room.

"Show me." He asked of her.

He read the confusion in her eyes and let her figure out exactly what it was she was trying to tell him.

If not with her actions then with her words and if not with her words then with the words of others, no?

Her index stroked the spines of some tentatively, contemplating if this was what she wanted. She pulled out a leather clad book with cursive golden lettering and handed it to him.

He read the title.

"Beauty. Yes?"

Her eyes suddenly seemed to glow.

"Yes."

He left the book on his burgundy, velvet chaise and brought her to his bed chambers.

"You will have me as your beast then?"

"Yes," she begged.

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