He stays rooted to the spot, breathing heavily.

The Beast kisses him again. 

He doesn't resist, this time. He doesn't kiss back. He smells very aroused.

The Beast picks him up, still kissing him, and starts walking. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs between kisses. "You smell so good." 

"Don't," he gasps. "Stop - talking."

"Alright," he says, and continues to kiss him without saying anything. 

He doesn't say anything all the way back to his room, through laying Chu Wanning out and undressing him, although he does give him plenty of room to verbally protest if he decides to. 

Chu Wanning doesn't want room to verbally protest!!! Why is the beast so insistent on humiliating him!!! Chu Wanning claws impatiently at the beast's shoulders, avoiding the bandages; he wants this to go faster. He wants to stop being able to think already.

And then the Beast presses him to the mattress and makes him stop thinking. 

Ah.

Ah.

Chu Wanning melts quickly. His eyes flutter shut and his mouth hangs open, leaking a constant stream of quiet, aching noises.

Gorgeous. Amazing. 

It seems that the superhuman characteristics of this beastly form that gave him such astonishing speed do something for his stamina, too. 

This is very useful for purposes of Chu Wanning not being able to think. He goes limp after he comes for the second time.

Eventually, after an interminable period of time, there are More Snuggles. So many snuggles. 

Eventually he comes back to himself like this, soft and sated with pleasure in the beast's arms. 

He cannot remember ever in his life feeling so relaxed, or so ruined. He is probably ruined forever, now. It is harder to care about that now than it was this morning. He tries to care more.

He snuggles the beast.

The Beast snuggles him back, soft and affectionate, petting his hair gently. 

He is going to be alone and unmarried for the rest of his life, now, but - maybe not entirely alone. If he stays here. If he lets the Beast keep him.

"How are your injuries?"

"Better," he says. "I heal more quickly than I remember from when I was a child."

"Do you remember getting hurt a lot?"

...He shrugs. 

"I don't know how much is a lot."

"How do you remember getting hurt?"

"My mother was a dancer. Sometimes people were unkind. I tried to help."