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Owning the beast episode 3

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➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖ CHAPTER 3 ➖➖➖➖➖➖➖ *Annabella* Any lingering pleasure from my orgasm was wiped away the moment Mr. Stone rips through my flesh, forcing all eight inches of him into me, filling me to the brim. Unable to control myself, I leaned forward and bit down onto the flesh between his collarbone and neck while screaming out his name in pain. “Fuck!” he grunted. “I’m going to owe you one.” I bit down harder at his words, not knowing what he meant, causing him to let out a louder grunt. I could taste a hint of coppery blood on my tongue and felt tears streaming down my cheeks. He stiffened against me, drawing his hips back to thrust into me twice before coating my walls with his warm seed. Releasing his neck from between my teeth, I let my head dropped back down onto *the bed, trying to come to terms with how all of this happened so quickly. Griffin’s body went completely* lax, pushing me further into *the bed. He was making it hard for me to breathe and I shifted around, trying to get out from under him. He tensed. “Trying to get away from me already?” I felt his cock *growing hard once again inside me, causing a jolt of fear to shoot through my body. The throbbing* ache between my legs had lessened* but I didn’t think I could go for a second round. “Please, Mr. Stone,” I pleaded. “A fucking story">virgin. They sent me a goddamn angel virgin!” he cursed as he slid his semi-hard cock out of me, causing my inner walls clench at the loss of his big, hot girth. I needed space. Bringing my hands to his chest, I pushed as hard as I could, catching him off guard and he half fell off the bed. Taking that moment to put some distance between us, I moved off in the opposite direction, using the giant bed as a barrier between us. “Fuck you, Mr. Stone! You very well knew that I was a virgin; you even paid extra for that privilege. How dare you treat me like this?” “Like what? Like a common whore? Isn’t that what you are? Don’t pretend that a perfect woman like you would willingly be with a man who looks like me unless she was getting paid for it,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. Taking a step forward as if about to move around the side of the bed, I mimicked Griffin’s movement to keep the distance between his anger and I. I could feel his cum slowly trickling down my thighs. Was this how he truly saw the mail order bride deal? That I was just a whore for him to use and enjoy? And to top it all off, it seemed like my looks just pisses him off. Darting my eyes around the room, I scanned for an escape route. I needed more space. Spying a bathroom to my left, I got ready to bolt. Pulling my eyes back to Griffin, I met his gaze and what I saw in his eyes cooled off some of my anger. While his words and actions were that of anger, his eyes told a whole different story. All I could see in his bright emerald eyes was pain. Pain was an easy emotion for me to spot; maybe it was because I saw it in Father’s eyes every day after Mother had passed away. While I could still feel anger simmering inside me, I didn’t want to make any decisions right now. I could take Logan up on his offer to grab my things and return to the city or maybe I could even get the agency to help find me another husband. But the flash of pain in Griffin’s eyes and his gruesome scars told me that there was more to this man than meets the eye, and for some unknown reason, I wanted to know what it was that he was so desperately hiding. Uncaring of my nudity, I placed my hands on my hips, trying to make myself seemed more confident than how I actually felt. “I think it’ll be best if you sleep in another room tonight, Mr. Stone. Maybe even the backyard. Do you have a doghouse back there? It seems fitting. If you’re going to act like a beast, then maybe you should sleep like one too.” “I’ll show you a beast.” He growled seconds before he lunged over the bed, making a grab for me. I was faster though, and I made it to the bathroom first. Slamming the door shut, I clicked the lock in place just before Griffin started banging on it, causing the frame to rattle. “Open the fucking door, Annabella, or I’ll knock it the fuck down,” he yelled, giving the door, what I believed to be, another hard punch. It was all so overwhelming, I felt suffocated. A sob escaped my lips and with that, the dam broke. The facade of my confidence had now completely disappeared. God, I didn’t want him to hear me break down. I didn’t want him to know that he had gotten to me. It felt like every suppressed emotion from over the past few weeks were rushing out all at once and I crumbled under the pressure. Sinking to the cold bathroom floor, I tried to muffle my sobs with my hands, which instead caused me to sob even harder. Griffin was trying to say something to me through the door, his voice now soft and soothing, but I couldn’t hear anything over my hitching breaths. I cried for all that I had lost, for the decisions I had to make, and most importantly, I cried because I had no one. No one to hold or comfort me while I cried. Alone once again. ....... ~ ~ ~ ~ Stirring, I slid my palm across the silky bed sheet, shifting slightly on the softest bed I had ever slept on. I had never felt this free or light in forever. I didn’t think I’d ever slept this well or deep before, I don’t really remember. Opening my eyes, memories from the day before came flashing into my mind, along with the throbbing pain between my legs. I didn’t recall leaving the bathroom last night. Someone must have carried me back out to the bed. Stumbling to the bathroom on wobbly legs, the throb between my legs decided to make itself more known. Looking down between my thighs, I could see the evidence of our coupling. No, the evidence of our fucking. I was fucked last night, and he even called me a whore a couple of times to remind me. Drawing a bath, I sank into the hot, soothing water, washing and scrubbing away at the blood and semen that was left on my body. This man confused me. One second, he was calling me a whore and the next, an angel. One thing was clear though, there was a lot more to Griffin than meets the eye and I had this overwhelming need to figure him out. I want this to work. I came to America to get married, make a family, have a husband, and maybe children as well. Could I tame this beast? If I could give him what he needs, then maybe he could give me what I need as well. He has to be lonely too. Why else would he use the agency? Some of the things he said to me last night made me believe that he found himself unlovable, undesirable. I was not ignorant of my own beauty but I never found it to be important. It could be, that with a soft hand and kindness, I could draw this man out. The man that was surely hidden beneath the beast. All I needed was a plan. Finishing up my bath, I found my clothes from the night before laid out on the couch in the bedroom. They seemed to have been cleaned and pressed to pristine condition, including my underwear. Dressing quickly, I headed downstairs in search of the kitchen. I marveled at the architecture of the mansion. It would probably take me all day to explore every single nook and cranny. Wandering down the hallway, I finally came across the kitchen. I’m not even sure if that was what it should be called. It was so huge that you could probably cook for a crowd of fifty in here. Opening up the fridge and taking a peek inside, it seemed like they really might be cooking for fifty. It was overflowing with food. Pulling out some eggs and bacon, I started breakfast. I’ve been cooking for my father for so many years that it came as second nature to me. Nothing took me away from my problems like cooking did. Making up two plates, I set them on the breakfast bar in hopes that Griffin would join me. If this man was going to be my husband, I had to try and get to know him better. No sooner had I taken my first bite did he come strolling into the kitchen with a scowl on his face. “Looks like you made yourself right at home,” he clipped, moving to the coffee pot to pour himself a mug. “Morning to you too, Mr. Stone. Would you be joining me for breakfast? I made you a plate,” I chirped in my sweetest voice. Maybe some of my sweetness would rub off on him. “I do not eat breakfast. Would you like me to call Logan for you?” I was not sure what he meant by that. Call Logan to take me away or call Logan to have breakfast? His pinched look and clenched jaw wasn’t much help either. “If you wish.” I flashed him a smile. “I’ll also take a cup of that coffee while you’re at it. Two sugars, no cream, please.” Before he could retort, I said a quick thank you before dropping my eyes back down to my *plate. A thrill of excitement ran up my spine when I heard him start on my coffee, but it died quickly* when he went ahead and called Logan up to the mansion after placing my coffee in front of *me. Logan came strolling into the kitchen two minutes later. Logan’s a handsome man; I might even call* him pretty. He was exactly how I pictured a typical American man to be; blond wavy hair, bright cerulean eyes, and completely relaxed. I couldn’t help but compare the two men standing in the kitchen. While Logan was a few inches shorter than Griffin, he was much leaner and toned. Griffin was broad and all consuming. There was no missing his dark, commanding aura when he was in the room. He’s the first man I’d ever been with, but when he loomed over my body last night, I felt like a caged animal that couldn’t escape him. I might have been terrified but I’d never felt more alive. Flashes of last night brought a blush onto my face and I wondered if anyone noticed. Looking back and forth between the two men, I found them staring at me. Logan smiled while Griffin scowled even harder, which I didn’t think was possible. Breaking the silence I asked, “Does everyone come running when Mr. Stone calls?” “Generally so. What is that wonderful smell?” Logan smirked. “I made breakfast. Feel free to sit next to me, you can have this plate if you like. You can keep me company while I eat. Mr. Stone isn’t much of a conversationalist.” Griffin slammed his coffee cup down on the table and I snapped head up to look at him. I was stunned to see the shattered remains of the cup. “Anna, stop with the goddamn Mr. Stone shit, and no, Logan will not be sitting next to you eating my goddamn breakfast.” Rolling my eyes, I caught Logan smothering his laughter and I couldn’t resist prodding the beast once more. “But *I thought you don’t eat breakfast, Griffin? There’s no need to let it go to waste. You don’t* like to share?” Stomping over to the breakfast bar, Griffin plopped down onto the chair next to me and began shoveling food into his mouth, cleaning his plate in record time. I’m amazed he didn’t choke. Pretending to take a sip of my coffee, I hid my grin behind the cup. . . TBC 8:39:27+00:00">

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