Part 3 – Rough Tongues and Smooth Skin

It was strange to think how quickly the memory of his father's face had begun to fade when he had been living inside the castle. Remus waited patiently for the ache, the pull, he felt for the Beast to lessen in the same way after he had turned his back on him.

Surely, he reasoned, no one could miss someone they hardly knew.

But as winter melted into spring, Remus only felt the pull tug harder at his heart and, unlike his father's face, the memory of the Beast was, if anything, glowing brighter in his mind. It was as if the last remaining member of Remus' family was meant to be a memory; some old, fading portrait of his past. But the Beast, the Master, was not ready to be forgotten.

When he first arrived in the village several months before, too fatigued and aching to notice the cold anymore, he found his father waiting in a local pub with a small – and very recently acquired – fortune.

"One of the servants from the castle delivered this," his father had informed him quietly. "Apparently the Beast took quite a liking to you, lad. The man said he was adamant that you are taken care of...but with this amount, we'll both be living comfortably for many years."

Remus had stared at the greedy, round face for several minutes, unsure of what to say in response.

Even weeks later he could not deny that after seeing his father's cold eyes, he had wanted to run back to the castle, back to the Beast, as fast as he could.

He wanted something, needed something. He just did not want to think about what it was.

For several weeks, his father gambled at local pubs; insatiable and continually eager to increase the amount of money they possessed. Each night Remus would watch as his father counted the money, holding each coin with something akin to reverence.

In moments like those, Remus would be reminded of the Beast's growling, reproachful voice when he had reprimanded his father for risking something he was not willing to lose. Remus knew, without a flicker of doubt, that his father would risk losing him again if it meant more money.

Strangely, his stomach did not clench in grief at the thought as it might once have.

Remus forgot how he had managed to convince his father to leave for the next village without him.

Perhaps he had promised to follow him in a few days time. Perhaps he had convinced his father he had a way of making more money if he stayed here. Perhaps he had simply told him to go.

It did not matter much now.

Remus had taken a small amount of the money and waved his father off – all the while wondering why he still did not feel anything remotely like loss at the sight of his father's back.

In truth, he was afraid that the ache would get stronger the further he went from the castle.

It was hardly bearable as it was.

Remus was stuck; undeniably trapped between two lives with no idea which one to pursue. The pull he felt to stay would not allow him to trail after his father like a lost puppy; but his bloody pride would not let him run back to the Beast like some wanton, love-struck girl.

Every night he would lie alone in his room at the inn and try to imagine a life not centered on cards or money or games and if ever he considered following his father – whether out of loyalty or loneliness – he would remember that the man had gambled him away like he was nothing more than a few gold coins.

Whenever he thought of that, the full extent of his lone existence would hit him sharply in the stomach like some large, meaty fist punching him into awareness.

He had no one. Not really.

No friends, no family, no lover.

He often wondered if the Beast was just as lonely as he was. Granted, unlike Remus, the Beast lived with servants...but what of his family? Did he have any friends or lovers? Did he even want any?

When Remus undressed at night, he would shamefully imagine the gray eyes were still on him, hungry and determined. Sometimes he did not know whether he was imagining the man or the Beast licking his neck, touching him, watching him.

Both, he sometimes thought.

Most nights he would dream about the rough tongue of the Beast and the smooth skin of the Master's back and he would lie awake, blushing and aroused, until sunrise.

For the most part, though, the days blended together.

By the time the winter frost had melted entirely, the image of the Beast had not even begun to fade from his mind.

The pull had not lessened its incessant tugging.

His father had not come back.

Hardly anything had changed, really.

And so it was not until a particularly warm evening in spring that anything happened to give him reason to return to the castle or to the Beast that occupied it.

Remus was seated at a table in the corner of the dark, smoky pub below the inn. The sleeves of his white shirt had been rolled up to his elbows and he could feel some hair that had escaped the silver clasp sticking to his sweaty forehead. He was just contemplating returning to his room to clean up and cool off when a soft, sweet voice spoke into his ear.

"You are unhappy."

The tone was light and teasing but something about the way the words were spoken gave Remus the impression that it was more than just an innocent observation. When he turned, he found a pale, delicate face staring up at him.

He had not noticed anyone sit down.

The woman's white-blonde hair fell in waves over her shoulders and although the dim light managed to catch the glint in her eyes, he could not tell what color they were.

She could not have been much older than he was, he realized. Had they met before?

Just as he opened his mouth to respond to her rather blunt statement and ask if they had, in fact, been introduced at some point, she leaned in closer and her lips brushed gently against his ear.

"What is it that you want, Remus? Hm? Money?"

Startled to hear his own name, Remus tried to lean back to get a better look at the girl but she grabbed tightly to the collar of his shirt and continued to whisper.

"A lover?"

He stiffened slightly at the word and the girl laughed.

"No? Are you sure? What about a home then?" she whispered, her voice suddenly harsh and mocking. "I know how lost you must be feeling right now ... and it just so happens that I know of a little castle that will be vacant very soon."

The woman bit his ear softly and let one of her hands rest lightly on his thigh.

Remus' eyes scanned the room but none of the men appeared to notice the two figures seated in the dark corner.

"Perhaps you have heard of its current master?" she continued in a low voice.

Her hand travelled up the length of his thigh.

"You see he's not a typical master," she informed him softly, as if she was sharing some sweet secret with a lover. "He's a Beast. An animal..."

Remus tried again to pry her small hand from his shirt but when their skin made contact he felt a burning heat sear his skin and he let go instantly.

She let out a harsh burst of laughter.

"Oh, don't tell me you feel something for him, Remus? You were hardly there for more than a few days."

Remus froze, but either she did not notice his reaction or did not care, and she continued speaking in her soft, dangerous voice.

"Besides," she whispered. "He is selfish. Cold. Unworthy. Nothing more than an animal waiting to be hunted."

Remus felt his stomach clench and he desperately wanted to argue – but he was still too stunned by the whole incident to respond.

"Isn't that right, Remus?"

He felt shaken and unnerved but when he spoke his voice was firm and he was surprised at the threatening tone it had adopted.

"No."

She laughed shrilly and cruelly and Remus cringed at the sound.

"Ah, well," she muttered finally, her laughter dying down. The girl's pretty face was twisted with mock concern but when she stared into his eyes, she looked hungry for his response.

"Too late now," she breathed.

It took him longer than he expected to reach the castle grounds.

The rising sun was already casting its first light across the large pond and, as Remus slid past the gates, he noticed that the ice had melted from it. It looked calm and peaceful now. When he walked past it, he saw fish swimming gaily in the cool water.

He could not help but shiver at the sight.

The memory of being pulled from the icy depths, from death, made him feel terribly vulnerable.

Within seconds, Remus' gaze had returned to the castle and he sprinted towards the large front doors, the fear welling up inside of him once more.

What would he find?

He knocked loudly, anxiously waiting for the servant's familiar face to appear and welcome him in; to reassure him that the Master was healthy and unharmed.

When no one came, Remus pushed impatiently at the door, abandoning his usual sense of propriety, and was relieved to find that it was again unlocked.

Once inside, he did not look for the servants to help him search the castle or go from room to room calling out to the Beast.

He knew where to go without asking or searching.

It almost felt like a dream as the pull drew him up the stairs and back towards the room of the Beast.

When he finally reached the familiar door, large and ominous, he hesitated.

"Nothing more than an animal waiting to be hunted."

The woman's voice echoed in his mind and he was struggling hard to ignore it.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open slowly and peered around the expansive room. His eyes scanned over meaningless objects but they could find nothing worth settling on.

The room was empty.

"Too late now."

His heart sped up and he felt adrenaline course through him.

What had happened here?

He cursed his pride for keeping him away for so long.

It felt right to be back here.

But where was the Beast?

Remus sat heavily on the bed. He had been so sure about what he felt; about the pull. The Beast should have been there.

He let his head fall to rest in his hands and an exhausted sigh escaped him.

"Remus?"

He jumped at the sound of the voice and his eyes flew around the room until they found its source.

Oh lord.

It was as if the statue from the entrance hall had come to life.

A handsome man stood before him at the entrance to what Remus assumed must be a private bathroom.

Why hadn't he noticed it before?

The black hair was dripping with water and a hastily wrapped towel was adorning the narrow hips.

The man had been bathing.

Remus opened his mouth to say something but found the sight before him required too much of his attention. He watched, enraptured, as tiny droplets of water rolled over the broad chest and down past the flat stomach to settle on the top edges of the towel. He repeated the same path back up until he reached the unshaven face.

The statue, even in all of its magnificence, had not managed to capture the true beauty of the man's features.

The pull became unbearable in an instant and, as if in a dream, he allowed it to pull him across the room.

The gray eyes studied his movement unblinkingly; the man's fists clenched tighter with every step that brought them closer.

When they stood no more than a foot apart, the tension between them spiked.

He was not sure which one of them rushed forward first but before he could stop to think, their mouths had crashed together forcefully. The lust that coursed through Remus was agonizing. In one small corner of his mind he remembered the Beast scoffing at the thought of both of them being animals but in that moment he felt certain his actions were not those of a man.

His own lips were as hungry and demanding as the other man's. He felt nimble fingers thread through his hair and gently tug at the strands, desperately trying to keep him close, before the man let out a low growl and pulled roughly out of their embrace.

"Remus, I –," he broke off, his face scrunched up in a mixture of desire and concern. "You shouldn't be here," he said finally, and although the man was undoubtedly serious, his voice lacked conviction.

Remus was having trouble finding an appropriate response.

The towel that covered the man's lower half had slid down an inch during their heated embrace and Remus licked his lips as he imagined how much more might be revealed to his hungry eyes if he were to try stealing another quick kiss.

"Don't do that."

His eyes flew back to the handsome face at the raw huskiness of the deep voice.

The gray eyes were staring at his lips, captivated, and the large hands were once again clenched into fists at the man's sides. It was as if he was trying desperately to maintain control of his own body.

Before either one of them could say or do anything else, there was a sharp knock on the door followed immediately by the familiar voice of the servant.

The Master had a guest waiting downstairs.

Remus felt a sharp stab of fear.

What guest? Had the strange woman from the pub sent someone to carry out her threat? Was the Master only alive because Remus had made it to the castle before the hunter had?

His fearful speculating went unnoticed.

The handsome man cursed softly in what Remus assumed must be relief at the interruption. His voice was once again clear when he called out a response.

Pulling his towel up and determinedly avoiding eye contact, the tall figure retreated to the private bathroom and, much to Remus' disappointment, returned fully clothed only a few moments later.

The gray eyes stared straight ahead at the door as he spoke, as if the man was afraid of what he might do if he looked at Remus again.

"You should go," he said softly.

Remus did not move any closer to the handsome man – lingering jolts of arousal were still pulsing through him – but when he replied he was certain the pleading tone in his voice exposed the fear he had suppressed upon seeing the half-naked form.

"Don't go down there," Remus whispered.

One large hand twitched in response to the tone of his voice and Remus imagined for a moment that the man might cross the room to comfort him.

"Don't go," he repeated more firmly. "There was a woman in the village. I...I think she's sent someone to harm you."

The man stood very still for several seconds, his eyes still fixed on the door ahead of him.

Remus waited for him to turn and ask questions about the woman, about the village, about anything.

But after taking one last deep shuddering breath, the man stalked the rest of the way out of the room, leaving a trembling Remus entirely alone with his thoughts.

The Master was alive. Unharmed. Safe.

Still, Remus could not move from his place on the large bed.

After checking up on him and trying – albeit, unsuccessfully – to get Remus to return to the room he had previously occupied, the maid assured him several times that the Master's guest was far from dangerous and that the Master was more than capable of protecting himself if need be.

Remus leaned back against the pillows with a heavy sigh.

He did not know what to think or say or do about the woman he had met in the pub; about his father; about the Beast. He only knew that he felt more at ease than he had in months and, if only for the sake of not aggravating the pull any more, he did not want to leave the comfort of the Master's bedroom.

The exhaustion accumulated from his trek to the castle was getting harder to ignore.

He rolled onto his side, moving down the bed slightly, and pulling one of the full, white pillows along with him.

As Remus tugged it closer, he felt something soft being moved out from under it.

Inexplicably curious to find out what the Beast would keep so close, Remus had pulled the crumpled cloth from its hiding place before he could stop himself.

White cotton.

Buttons.

A shirt.

A small bit of pleasure coursed through him.

It was one of his shirts.

The Beast must have taken it before he left.

With his heart still pounding in his chest, Remus stretched out again and let the sun warm his shivering skin.

He imagined the piercing gray eyes on him once more and he stared at the door, hoping desperately for the Beast's return, until finally out of sheer exhaustion, he succumbed to sleep.

When Remus next stirred, he could no longer feel the sunshine warming his cheeks.

He opened heavy eyelids to find himself still alone in the large, now darkened, bedroom of the Beast. He laid there for several minutes, allowing thought after thought to flit through his mind at a sickeningly swift pace.

Sharp fingernails digging into his thigh as a woman whispered threats into his ear.

Running until he was out of breath and still not stopping.

The fear.

The relief at seeing the Beast...no. The statue. The man.

Those gray eyes.

That kiss. That perfect, searing kiss.

The fear returning.

The bereft feeling that filled him when he was left all alone.

His shirt...tucked safely away in a pillowcase – as if it was something precious. Something treasured. Something beloved.

He might have smiled at the memory of his discovery – and the feelings it stirred within him – but the fear returned instantly when his eyes fell on the tall, darkened window.

It must have been hours since the man had gone to meet with his guest.

Why had he not returned?

Immediately Remus' tired eyes were wide and alert. The absence of the pull that he had grown so accustomed to was suddenly and terribly unnerving.

He sat up and slid from the bed quickly, exiting the room without so much as a backward glance at his crumpled white shirt.

As if anticipating Remus' movement from the room – as any good servant would – a familiar thin figure appeared almost magically at the end of the long hallway. He matched Remus' speedy strides and when they were no more than a few steps apart, he held up a hand to silence any questions Remus might have for him.

"The Master is in his study," he informed him quietly.

Safe?

The servant stood motionless for a moment, looking thoughtfully at Remus.

"It was good of you to return," he said finally. "The Master has not been himself since you left."

Remus' heart fluttered. He had not been himself since he had been given to the Beast as a form of payment. He shook his head.

"He told me to go," Remus muttered, unsure why he felt the need to defend himself. "He did not want me here anymore."

The servant shook his head too, a sad smile gracing his thin, dry lips.

"The Master wished to protect you," he said softly. "Though I daresay you are far safer in his presence than in anyone else's."

Remus immediately thought of the hungry, dangerous wolves and the icy depths of the pond that the Beast had saved him from. After a moment, he remembered his father agreeing to part with him for the sake of another round of cards and he wondered if the servant wasn't referring to his lack of safety in the presence of the older man.

"Is it safe to assume that you received the...gift that the Master sent upon your departure?"

His father, indeed.

"Yes, thank you. The Beast –the Master," he corrected himself – much to their mutual astonishment –, "is much too generous. I expect my father will be quite happy with his life for many years."

The man looked at him with a serious expression on his gaunt face.

"And you, Remus?"

Remus looked away.

"I have never really wanted anything. Not until –," he broke off.

Not until I came here. Not until I met him.

The servant stepped closer and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I cannot promise you that a life here would be easy, Remus," he spoke softly, careful to scan the hallway to make sure they would not be overheard. "The Master is stubborn, there is no denying it."

Remus swallowed, his heart racing at the prospect of living in the castle again. He had the sudden – and wildly inappropriate – thought that perhaps he should offer to undress for the Beast each evening that he stayed there...if only to offer something in return for his room and food.

Much to his embarrassment, the idea was highly arousing. He blushed deeply as the servant continued to speak to him.

"For all his attempts to order you away, Remus, he would never really throw you out," the servant assured him in a low tone. "Not after he has waited all these years for you to come."

Remus frowned, pushing his lascivious thoughts to the back of his mind for a moment.

"What do you mean? How could he have possibly known my father and I would come here?"

The servant stared at him for awhile without saying anything.

"It is not my story to tell," he admitted finally. His back straightened and the kindness that shone in his eyes when he first saw Remus was replaced by a look of calm indifference.

He was once again the Master's most competent servant.

"The Master is in his study," he repeated firmly.

And with one last stiff bow, the servant strode away.

Somehow, Remus had managed not to retreat to the bedroom he once occupied.

He stood for awhile facing the familiar door to the study.

What would he say to the Beast? Should he tell him about the pull he felt? The desire? If he did, would he be tossed out of the room or thrown up against the wall?

Remus flushed at the prospect of revealing any of his thoughts to the Beast.

Before he could lose his nerve, he turned the handle and pushed the door open without knocking.

He stepped slowly into the darkened room.

"I thought I told you to leave here," the Beast's voice rumbled from across the room.

Remus shivered at the sound of it. It had been so long, too long, since he had last heard it.

He walked further into the room and shut the door behind him.

"I wanted to thank you," he whispered, ignoring the Beast's statement. "My father and I are greatly indebted to you."

Remus stepped closer to the large chair holding the cloaked Beast and he heard the large figure shift slightly in his seat.

"Get out."

Remus shivered at the dangerous tone but did not slow his approach until he was only a few feet away.

"Now," the Beast growled.

For a moment, Remus thought he might actually do as he was told – just like he had all those months ago – but where would he go this time? Back to a father who did not care for him? Back to an inn where he could do nothing but eat, sleep and think longingly of his days in the Beast's presence?

"I want to stay with you," Remus stated quietly.

The Beast said nothing.

"Please," he added.

Remus waited for some reaction – a growl, a shout, a kiss– anything would have been sufficient.

The Beast said nothing, though, and Remus could not tell whether or not the gray eyes were still staring at him.

He desperately hoped they were.

"Let me prove it," he whispered and in an anxious attempt to break the Beast's silence, Remus reached up quickly and slowly started to open the buttons on his shirt.

Please, please, don't send me away.

The Beast was on his feet in an instant.

"Don't," he rumbled softly.

Remus stopped, his hands frozen on the button just below his chest.

When the Beast next spoke, he sounded thoroughly regretful. "I should never have asked you to do that."

The words, spoken apologetically, stung Remus.

Had the Beast been disappointed by what he saw? Is that why he had told Remus to go? Why, then, had the man kissed him so passionately earlier?

A sudden, horrible thought occurred to Remus.

There were not many people who came to the castle. Why would a willing partner – a very willing one, Remus thought with shame – be turned away from the Master's bed?

He shivered.

What, then, had Lumiere meant about the Beast waiting for Remus?

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he did not notice the Beast move around him until he felt something touch the back of his neck.

"Why did you come back?"

Remus exhaled slowly, trying not to get distracted by the gentle pressure on his neck.

"I thought you were in danger."

There was a low growl but the sweet touches to his neck did not stop.

"I'm not," the Beast answered quietly.

Remus thought he heard the Beast inhale deeply then.

Was he smelling him?

The whimper he made at the thought did not go unnoticed by the Beast – who, in misunderstanding the sound, quickly released his careful hold on Remus' neck and moved away.

Much to his mortification, Remus whimpered again at the loss of the touches and turned to face the large, cloaked figure.

"I have thought of nothing but you since I left," he breathed the words quickly and quietly, afraid that saying them too loudly might scare the Beast away.

Remus carefully closed the distance between them once more and stared up into the gray eyes, his heart pounding.

"Have you felt it too?" he asked softly, the rational part of his brain was shouting at him to stop talking but he could not. "The ache...the pain from being separated?"

Remus heard the sound of fabric against fabric and he imagined the Beast clenching his fists...his paws...as tightly as the handsome man had after their heated kiss.

"You need to go, Remus," the Beast's rumbling voice betrayed its owner's quickly dissipating self-control. "I can't keep..."

"You don't have to," Remus breathed.

And then –

He was up against the wall with a surprisingly warm nose burrowed in his neck, inhaling his scent deeply, hungrily. His shirt was ripped open roughly but when the strong hands pulled it from his body, it was with such gentle motions that he hardly felt the fabric leave his skin.

The Beast nuzzled Remus' chest and stomach lovingly and then, as if worshipping the body in front of him, he kneeled and began licking every inch of the exposed porcelain skin with his rough tongue. Remus' moans filled the room when the talented tongue started lapping at his chest and neck.

No one had ever kissed him, much less licked him, like that.

When the Beast seemed satisfied with having tasted Remus' skin, he remained kneeled before him and rested his covered head against Remus' thigh.

"I'll give you anything you want...anything at all," he growled softly. "If you promise to stay."

Remus leant his head back against the wall – an indescribable feeling flooded through him. Relief? Excitement? Desire?

He stared into the gray eyes – the only part of the Beast he could see – and felt himself nod silently in response.

Without a word, the Beast stood, towering over Remus once more, and held out one fur-covered paw. Remus eagerly grasped it and allowed himself to be led through the halls in a daze of arousal and disbelief. The ache was completely gone now but it had been replaced by something new, something primal, that he did not yet understand.

When they finally reached the Beast's room, his pulse raced at the thought of what might happen.

They quickly settled themselves on the bed and Remus held his breath in anticipation.

The possibilities were thrilling.

Would they kiss? Touch? Would he feel the rough tongue on his skin again?

After several long minutes of lying in silence, Remus could finally feel the Beast's reluctance.

Not tonight.

Remus found he did not mind.

When the Beast reached for him and pulled him close and two strong arms encircled him tightly, afraid to let him go, he was surprised to discover how content he felt lying there. He was even more surprised at how quickly he felt himself being lulled to sleep by the soothing growls of the Beast.

There was no rush. He was back.

Something was tickling his fingertips.

Remus could feel the warm sunshine on his skin again, relaxing him, but it did not take long for the pleasurable tickling sensation to pull him from his sleep.

He opened his heavy eyelids to stare lazily around the familiar room.

He felt a strong arm still resting heavily on his waist, holding him in place. His bare back was pressed tightly against a hard, clothed chest.

It wasn't a dream then.

One of Remus' hands was raised in the air above his head and he felt his breathing quicken at the source of the tickling.

The handsome man, his Beast, was alternating between kissing, nipping, and sucking on his fingertips. The gray eyes were sparkling with mischief and affection as they stared down at him.

Remus flushed at his body's quick response to the sight.

The dark-haired man laughed deeply, a low and rumbling sound reminiscent of the Beast, and leaned down until his lips brushed against Remus' ear.

"Changed your mind?" he breathed.

Remus swallowed hard.

"No," he answered firmly.

The man lifted his head again and stared down at him.

"Hm."

Remus could see the struggle in the man's eyes. Despite the sweet awakening, he was still hesitant, worried even, about allowing Remus to stay with him.

"I don't want to go," Remus told him softly.

They continued to stare at each other for awhile. The gray eyes were impatient as they studied his features.

Like he's trying to memorize them, Remus thought.

The handsome man did not seem to tire of the sight of his face and Remus felt himself blush once more under the intense scrutiny.

That strange new feeling from the night before returned full force.

When he looked up at the man above him – the dark hair falling in the handsome face, the gray eyes drinking in the sight of him eagerly – he felt an immeasurable amount of lust course through him.

With bravery and desire he did not recognize as his own, he closed the distance between them and leaned up to capture the smooth lips with his.

The man inhaled sharply at the sudden movement, no doubt surprised by Remus' bold move, but it did not take long for him to respond with equal fervor. Remus' action seemed to trigger something within him.

Large hands rose to cup his face, to hold it still, as the man's tongue delved into his mouth, searching, probing, tasting.

Remus groaned loudly.

When the man was satisfied with his exploration of Remus' mouth, he leaned back to nip sharply at his lips, soothing them every so often with his talented tongue.

"Will you undress for me tonight?" he whispered huskily, eagerly, against Remus' lips. "Just one more time..."

The man moved away from his lips to nuzzle at his neck like the Beast had the night before.

Remus felt his face grow warm at the question. It was not the idea of undressing in front of the Beast that had him flustered – but his own longing to do it again and the shameful thought that he would happily do it more than just once.

"Yes," he hissed back, just as the man began tugging at his own cloak – never breaking contact between his lips and Remus' neck. "I would do it every night if you asked me."

The man pulled back sharply to stare down at him with lust-clouded eyes.

He studied Remus' expression and, seeing the truth in his words, another binding on the man's self-control snapped.

He finished tearing the cloak from his body and Remus was immediately granted a view of the man's naked body.

The Beast didn't wear anything under the cloak...?

Remus whimpered.

The man, suddenly more wild, more impatient, gave Remus a growl and leaned down to nudge his nose against the hardness in Remus' trousers.

"I need you, Remus," he warned, raggedly. "I won't let you go. Can't let you go. Not again."

Remus did not think his heart could beat any faster. He reached down, his hands trembling with need, and pulled at the button on his trousers. He was thankful that the Beast had already ripped his shirt off the night before. One less layer to remove. One less barrier between their skin.

Strong, eager hands gripped the tops of his trousers and pants and tugged down roughly.

The gray eyes darkened at the sight of Remus' freed arousal.

In the next moment, they were flush up against one another, their bodies melding together tightly. They both groaned at the sensation of hardness meeting hardness and the man thrust once sharply against him causing Remus to mewl and dig his heels into the soft bed beneath them to keep from desperately rutting against the hard body above him.

He was too lost in his passion, his desire, to keep from doing it for long. Soon their hard lengths were rubbing against each other, and Remus had a feeling it was his own movements causing the friction.

The tongue was at his neck again, nipping and marking him possessively.

Remus felt sharp teeth against his windpipe suddenly, trying to make his movements slow, and he found himself responding instinctually. With a low moan of longing, he stilled his hips.

As if we are both animals.

Remus vaguely noted how ironic it was that the man seemed more animalistic than the Beast had the previous evening.

With one more growl in warning, the man released his hold on Remus' neck and began kissing and licking his way down the lean, irresistible body below him.

"You taste so good," the husky voice murmured against his stomach. "Better than I imagined."

Remus was just about to respond when he saw the smooth, traveling lips close around his hardness without hesitation – as if that was just one more part of Remus to taste.

Remus gasped at the new – and breathtaking – sensation of having smooth lips and a hot, wet mouth around his arousal. He began writhing uncontrollably and only barely resisted the temptation to thrust upward – if only to see what it would feel like. But he was absurdly afraid that the mouth would stop its ministrations to move up and take hold of his neck again instead. The loss of the attention on his nether regions would be devastating.

He watched, his arousal quickly building, as the man licked him thoroughly.

Just as quickly as he had started, the man pulled his mouth away to move back up Remus' body.

The gleaming gray eyes stared down at him with an unreadable emotion swirling within them.

"You came back," the man murmured against his lips.

Unexpectedly, Remus felt one of the man's fingers trail down his erection, dragging some of the wetness left on it from the man's mouth. He jumped when he felt the wet appendage probe at his entrance.

"You came back to me," he whispered again, staring down into Remus' eyes with that same indefinable look.

Remus moaned loudly when he felt the finger push past the ring of muscle and slide inside of him.

"I waited for you, Remus," the man's voice was husky with desire.

The finger continued to push in and out of him, drawing low growls from Remus, before it was joined by another.

The feeling made Remus close his eyes in pleasure. He had never felt anything like it before. He groaned as the fingers continued to gently caress him, to prepare him.

"Please," he whispered, when the man gave no indication that he was going to stop twisting his fingers around inside of him. As pleasurable as it was, it was not enough.

More. Please more.

The fingers thrust into him a few more times before they pulled out completely.

Remus' eyes snapped open at the loss.

"Remus," the man murmured, moving both hands up to support his weight on either side of Remus' head. He shifted his lower body and Remus squirmed slightly, impatient.

"Look at me, Remus," he whispered. "Keep your eyes on mine."

Remus swallowed in anticipation and complied, raising both hands to comb the black hair out of the man's face.

Soft. Like the Beast's fur.

"No one's touched you like this before," the man sounded both tense and elated at the same time.

Remus did not bother denying the statement. Of course no one had touched him like this. He had never wanted anybody the way he wanted the man, the beast.

Now why oh why would the man not just move again?

As soon as he finished the thought, he felt something decidedly hard – and significantly larger than a finger – nudge at his opening.

"I'll make it up to you, Remus."

Before Remus could ask what he meant, he felt the man's thick arousal start to push its way into him. He exhaled sharply and instantly understood the man's promise.

Taking deep breaths to keep from crying out, he kept his eyes trained on the gray orbs looking down apologetically at him. The man inched forward slowly, his own eyes never leaving Remus' face. Remus bit his lip as he felt himself being filled completely.

"You feel so good," the man said, looking almost shy for a moment.

When the man was fully sheathed inside of him they both remained impossibly still until the pain finally subsided.

Remus shakily raised a hand to the man's back and encouraged him to move with soft presses to the smooth skin.

The man slid out of him slowly, breathing heavily as he did so, before inching his way back in at a slightly faster pace than before.

Remus squirmed with impatience.

The pain was not entirely gone but most of it had been replaced with a considerable amount of pleasure and Remus wanted to feel more of it. With his hand still resting on the broad back, he applied a bit more pressure, pulling the man's hardness into him faster and hoping that the man understood what he needed.

The man growled, the hint of shyness Remus had glimpsed earlier completely absent from his eyes now. He leaned down to capture Remus' lips in a passionate kiss as he pulled out once more and thrust in hard and fast.

They both sighed out their relief into one another's mouth.

More.

A strong hand reached down quickly to grasp Remus' erection and the man began stroking it in time with his now frantic, deep thrusts.

Remus felt his pleasure mounting; he never imagined it could feel like this. He leaned forward to nuzzle the pale, unblemished neck, surprised at the almost animalistic urge to do so.

With a decidedly sharp and well-angled thrust, the man hit a spot inside Remus that had him clutching the sheets under them in one hand and the muscled back in the other. He gasped once more and with a low moan, he spilled his seed over the man's hand.

Unable to look away from the thrashing body below him, the man thrust into him several more times, his gray eyes focused and unblinking.

As their bodies joined together with each thrust, the man swiped his tongue over Remus' parted lips once more.

"You came back to me, Remus," the man whispered again, marvelling at his own words and spilling his own release into Remus' waiting body.

Several hours later, on the grounds outside of the castle, a slender, feminine form stood alone under the light of the moon.

Her pretty silver eyes looked satisfied as they stared up at the dimly lit room in silence. She waited patiently for the candle in the Beast's room to flicker out; the last little light in that large, dark castle.

Only when the darkness overtook the space completely did the girl stalk towards the castle, her eyes gleaming maliciously.