Beauty Touched the Beast

Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight. He lay on the bed, his skin damp from a bath, a towel in disarray around his waist. Only his hand covered him at all from her view – his fist on his cock. And as she watched, it pulled down, baring a glistening head, and back up.

He was masturbating. Shit!

She ought to leave. She really should turn around, walk away and absolutely not watch. Instead she stood, her eyes riveted to his exposed cock standing up thick from his taut grip.

“God, baby,” he moaned, his eyes closed, “suck it, please.”

Every bit of her, from her tingling skin to her thudding heart jolted in response. Her lips parted, as if she could obey him from across the room. Her clit throbbed at the sound of his rasping voice, saying such dirty words. At the sight of his muscled body and thick, standing cock.

“Yes. Yes. So beautiful. God.” His other hand cupped his balls. “That’s right, baby. Lick them. Suck them.”

Her mesmerized gaze spanned to his face, snared on the interplay of shiny scar tissue and ruddy, healthy skin twisted in a grimace of pleasure. His burns and coarse features might make him repulsive to some, but when she saw only Blake, with his brilliant ideas and gruff kindness.

“Touch yourself. Yeah, yeah. Take me deep in your mouth and stick your fingers in your cunt.”

Her thighs squeezed together where she stood, giving herself relief from the ache at her core. She wanted more – more pressure, a stronger touch, but if she moved her legs or her hands, she’d have to acknowledge that what she was doing, being a voyeur was wrong.

He moaned her name. “Erin…”

Then he came, spurting into his cupped hand.

From shock, from arousal, she let out a sound – a whimper. Heavy lids slid open as he turned to look at her. His eyes, the green-brown eyes that were usually filled with good humor or earnestness, now stared at her in horror.