The Beast's Bride (18 page)

And hot damn, she loved it. Pippa screamed her pleasure, nails digging into the table. "Yes!

God, yes! Like that!"

"Pippa," he growled with each rough, pounding thrust. "My Pippa."

"All yours," she moaned, clinging to the table as he threatened to fuck her right off the other side with the force of his movements. Oh god, she was going to be sore in the morning, and oh god, she totally didn't care. It felt so good, the slap of his body against hers. It was so rough that her clit felt the friction with his rapid, rough thrusts, and she began to come all over again, her body tensing. She keened, and she felt her sex ripple and contract around him.

He snarled, the sound animalistic, and then his thrusts grew even harder and more wild; she felt the hot splash of him as he came inside her with one thrust after another, and she moaned her pleasure at making him lose control. Then, he collapsed on top of her, his big form covering hers on the small table and pressing her against the wood.

11Pippa smiled dreamily, eyes closed. God, he felt good all over her. She made a small sound of protest when he got up, but then he pulled her into his arms, turned her over, and kissed her again.

"That was wonderful," she told him softly, caressing his cheek. "This has been the best night of my life."

"Aye," he said in a gruff voice, and picked her up, carrying her back to the bed. "Mine as well. And it is the start of many more to come."

She didn't respond, simply snuggling close when he lay in the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms. There was no sense in arguing, after all.

He'd find out the truth soon enough. And that thought destroyed all the happy bliss of the last few minutes. She closed her eyes and moved closer to him, determined to enjoy these stolen hours.

And when Duncan finally fell asleep, clutching her to him, she slipped out of his grasp, touched his beloved face, and then retreated back to her own lonely bed.

The time for being selfish was over.

~~***~~

Morning came far too soon, and with it, a heavy dread in the pit of Pippa's stomach.

This was a nightmare. Her legs were still tender from the night before with Duncan, and her heart ached. She was abandoning him to his fate. To Belle, who would give him the happy ever after that she couldn't.

If Belle noticed that Pippa's mood was somber, she didn't let on. She woke up and bathed and then began to prepare for the wedding, not with excitement, but with a grim intensity and determination. She wanted to be the bride, so she would be—even if that meant that she had to tolerate the groom.

It felt wrong to Pippa, but then again, what in this fairy tale had gone right? Not much, and nothing since she'd arrived.

They locked the door and Belle dressed in the wedding gown intended for Pippa. She was a little bustier than Pippa, even with her breasts bound, but overall, the gown was a fit. And she was beautiful. Dressed in ice-blue, Belle was covered from neck to toe with a tight kirtle that had 11laces up the sides and a long train. The decorative, embroidered pale chemise underneath peeped out between lacings in the sleeves and at the high bodice, and when she lifted her dress to walk, the embroidered hem showed. It was a lovely gown.

It made Pippa's heart ache to see her. Belle was gorgeous in it. She truly was the princess from the fairy tale.

And Pippa was the horrible selfish stepsister that had slept with the hero the night before the wedding. She wasn't proud of that fact, but she wouldn't take last night back for anything. It had been magical. For once she'd felt loved and cherished and beautiful, and not alone.

Whatever happened today, last night was worth it.

They put the veil over Belle's head, adjusting it so it covered her entirely. The fabric was made from an extremely thick weave, almost impossible to see through. The veil sat atop a small, spiky coronet that kept it carefully lifted off of her hair - the sisters had discovered that if it laid flat against Belle's head, the blonde hair would show through the fabric and people would realize it was not Pippa's dark hair underneath. Hence the goofy crown. It seemed a little odd and awkward, but no one could deny a bride on her wedding day.

And then Belle threw back the veil and gave Pippa an impish grin. "Here we are."

"Here we are," Pippa echoed, her heart aching.

"What will you do now?"

She bit her lip, thinking. "Well, I'm going to hide under the bed until they come to get you.

Then I suppose I'll start walking back to town."

"You don't want to stay for the wedding celebration afterward?"

Pippa shook her head. "I don't think it's a good idea." Especially since she'd probably sob through the whole thing as Duncan glared at her.

Duncan. What would he look like when this was done and the curse was gone? She ached to know, but perhaps it was best to remember him as he was instead of how Belle's love would transform him. The thought was a sour one in her stomach.

Belle gave Pippa an impulsive hug, and Pippa hugged her back. She liked Belle, despite everything. The girl was selfish and empty-headed, but she also had a kind, sweet streak and it wasn't her fault she couldn't fall in love with the beast. Not when Pippa had been there constantly, hogging his time.

She'd really messed this one up, hadn't she?

11The sisters finished hugging, and then Belle lowered the veil again, masking her face. She went to the door and laid a hand on it. "Ready?" she whispered to Pippa.

Hiking up her skirts, Pippa headed to the bed and crawled under it. "Ready," she hissed back, and then lay still as Belle opened the door.

There was silence—of course there was. Belle couldn't talk without giving herself away, and the enchanted servants couldn't speak. But she heard the door close and footsteps down the hall.

And as she waited, hot tears leaked from her eyes. She dashed them over and over again.

This was stupid, of course. She couldn't cry over a man that she was never meant to have. And yet, she couldn't seem to stop.

Pippa counted to five hundred, waiting for the coast to be clear. Then, she got out from under the bed, shook out her skirts, and then opened the door a bit to peek down the hall.

Empty.

Heart heavy, she crept down the hall in the opposite direction - towards the front entrance.

Everyone would be gathering in the back chapel for the wedding, including Belle's father and the local priest, who had been quite alarmed at being invited to the enchanted castle. They had spread the story that Belle was upset and had returned to town the night before, so no one would notice a missing sister until it was too late.

Pippa expected to be stopped in the halls, but she ran into no one, saw no one. And then she was out the front gate, and heading into the woods, and her heart ached so much that she thought she might die from it. She gasped back her tears, bent over as she struggled to walk forward when every bone in her body was screaming for her to go back.

A horse neighed.

She glanced up, and spotted a…pumpkin carriage in the distance.

Oh hell. With a heavy sigh, Pippa headed toward it. There was no driver, but there didn't have to be. She knew who this carriage belonged to. So she moved to the side of the carriage and knocked on the window.

Muffin's curly head peeped out, and she beamed at Pippa. "Hello my girl! Why the long face? The hour of victory is nigh!"

She shook her head, unable to explain to Muffin why she was so sad.
I fell in love with the
hero and he's marrying my sister
wouldn't go over well with the prickly fairy godmother. "Just got all emotionally caught up in this, I guess."

11The door swung open and Muffin gestured for Pippa to join her inside the carriage. "Now that, I understand. Come, come, I'll drive you back to town."

She got in to the carriage and slid on the slimy seat. The smell of wet pumpkin was overwhelming, and Pippa wrinkled her nose, noticing that while the outside of the carriage looked like something out of Cinderella, the interior…

Well, it was just a hollowed out raw pumpkin. Seeds even dripped from the ceiling.

"Um." Pippa wiped a hand on her dress. "This is an interesting choice of vehicle."

"Rather ridiculous, don't you think?" Muffin agreed with a cheerful smile. "That Cinderella always was an odd bird. So, shall we go to town and wait for the magic to happen?"

"Can't we leave?" Pippa asked dully. "I don't want to be here anymore."

Muffin shook her head. "Not yet. We have to wait for the happy ever after."

Pippa hoped it came soon.

11

Pippa gazed at the dark interior of the small, thatched cottage without really seeing it. The fire was out, the place still and devoid of life.

Suited her just fine, really.

"Home sweet home," Muffin said in a cheerful voice. "So you'll be all right here until things move towards victory?"

"I'll be fine," Pippa told her and moved toward the fireplace. Someone had stacked logs next to it, but she had no idea how to actually start the fire from scratch. Not that she cared. She just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep until Muffin reappeared. So what if she was hungry and cold?

What did it matter?

"Here," Muffin said, shoving something into Pippa's limp hands. "Dinner's on me, dear." And she disappeared in another puff of glitter.

Coughing and waving the glitter away from her face, Pippa looked down at the object in her hands. A hollowed out pumpkin. A smiley face had been carved into the front.

She snorted and put it aside.

~~***~~

That first day, she did nothing but wallow in her misery. She cried a little—okay, a lot—and generally felt sorry for herself, huddled under the blankets of the bed she'd shared with Belle back before this whole thing had gotten started. No villagers stopped by to see her, and Belle's father had not yet returned. Likely, everyone was busy celebrating how happy they all were at the castle.

Which just made her cry even harder.

On the morning of the second day, though, she woke up ready to chew her own arm off with hunger and quite irritated. Where was that damn fairy godmother? Surely the fairy tale was finished by now? Duncan was no longer a beast, and Belle was the beloved princess of the land or some crap. Why was Pippa still here, then? Was this some sort of sadistic torture set upon her by the fairy godmother as punishment for messing things up until the eleventh hour?

11Whatever it was, she hated it. Not that hate filled her belly up. So she got out of bed and made a fire (which took most of the day) and dug up a few vegetables from the garden and made herself a rather pitiful salad. There was knitting in a nearby basket, and mending, but she didn't know how to do any of that. So she fed the goats and roasted the hollow pumpkin over the fire and kept busy. It was quiet, though, and she had nothing but her own thoughts to entertain her, and they were full of Duncan. His warm smile, his fevered kisses, the way he'd held her so gently in bed. The way he'd taken her against the table with abandon.

And Pippa continued to sit and wait for the inevitable, and she wondered why it was taking so incredibly long.

~~***~~

The first visitor to Pippa's tiny cottage came three days later, and it wasn't at all someone that she'd expected.

She'd woke up that morning to the sound of off-tune humming, and she had bounded from the bed. That warbly little voice had to be Muffin. The fairy godmother had finally come to retrieve her, which meant that Duncan had his happy ever after and Pippa was just a vague memory. She dressed with haste, throwing clothes on, and then rushed out of the bedroom door.

And stopped, in surprise, at the sight of Belle stirring a pot over the fire. In the distance, she could see Belle's father out in the gardens, walking through the rows of neatly planted vegetables.

Pippa pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, surprised at the sight. "Muffin?" She called, not entirely sure this wasn't some sort of prank from the fairy godmother. "Are you here?"

"No muffins for breakfast," Belle told her cheerfully. "But there's porridge if you want some."

Her stomach growled. She hadn't exactly done a great job of feeding herself for the last few days, and porridge sounded amazing. "Thanks." She sat in the chair by the fire and took the bowl that Belle handed to her, and the spoon. "What are you doing?"

Belle gave her a puzzled look. "I'm making breakfast."

11Pippa spooned the porridge into her mouth. Man, it was good. She ate a few more bites quickly, and then shook her head. "No, I mean, what are you doing back here? You were supposed to marry the beast and be the lady of the castle."

"Oh, that." Belle waved a hand idly. "He called the marriage off."

The porridge stuck like glue to the roof of Pippa's mouth. She fought to swallow, and then choked for a moment until Belle passed her a wooden cup of water, which she downed. When she could speak, she rasped, "What do you mean, he called the marriage off?"

"Well, Pippy," she said slowly. "I'm not quite sure how else to say it. We were supposed to get married, and we didn't."

"But the plan…what happened?" Was this why Muffin hadn't shown up again? The wedding hadn't taken place?

"He refused to marry me." Belle's look was prim with disapproval.

"He
what
?"

"I know, I was rather shocked, too."

Pippa shook her head. "But…the veil! How did he know it was you?"

Belle studied her fingernails, then to Pippa's surprise, her cheeks went a little pink. "Well, we were standing there, waiting for the priest to begin the ceremony. He grabbed me and pulled me against him, so of course I slapped him."

"You what?"

She gave a tiny shrug. "He startled me. After that, he knew I wasn't you. And then he went wild." She paled a little. "Lots of roaring and flinging things."

"Oh no." Pippa's hand went to her mouth. "What did he say?"

"He thought it was my idea at first—that I'd somehow come up with the plan to oust you. I told him that you had left and it had been your idea to switch us out. After that, he stormed out and wouldn't come out of his room. Papa and the priest stayed for a few days to see if he would change his mind, but he did not." She gave another small shrug. "Yesterday morning, I received a note that stated I was free to leave the castle. So Papa and I left. Everything worked out wonderfully in the end."