Beauty Sleep, page 1
Copyright © 2024 by E. Davies
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Contents
About This Book
Author’s Note
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Thanks for reading!
About the Author
Also by E. Davies
About This Book
Prince Charming came for me… and I never even saw his face.
I’m Briar, and I have a secret. Everyone thinks I’m a naive rose petal, too breakable for the scene. Little do they know that my deepest fantasies start with me fast asleep in bed.
In real life, I keep my walls up… until a mysterious Prince slips through an open door. He unlocks my desires in the night—and stops me from sleep-walking through the day.
By denying me what I want, Prince gives me all I need. Yet he always keeps me in the dark. I know him by heart, but why won’t he let me see him at last?
Beauty Sleep is an MM romance. This spicy fairytale adaptation is set in a contemporary world. To learn more about the twist in this book, please take a look at the author's note before you dive in!
Author’s Note
This is an age gap MM romance (no age play or ABDL).
It features Briar—a 21-year-old boy whose less-than-innocent fantasies always start with a window left wide open—and Prince, the jaded 40-something Daddy who slips in and transforms from a wicked fairy to a sweet prince... with a wicked streak.
There’s plenty of dirty talk and sweet dreams, including scenes of orgasm control; secret identity/disguise and anonymity; and nonverbal/limit consent.
And, of course, every Twisted fairytale ends in a happily-ever-after!
Prologue
BRIAR, ONE NIGHT EARLIER
I’m awake, of course.
The translucent curtains in my bedroom are fluttering softly in the warm summer breeze. Every breath of air that slips through the wide-open bay window torments my naked body. I’m flat on my back, and my rock-hard dick is twitching against my stomach.
“No,” I moan half-heartedly, but I already know I don’t mean it. “Not again.”
Discovering my deepest desires has wrecked my life.
No amount of shoving my hands under the pillow and thinking about calculus will help. Nothing does except… well, the obvious answer. And these days, even that doesn’t always work. I’ve spent hours lost in my fantasies, never quite able to spill over the edge, soaking my sheets in sweat and frustrated tears.
From the laughter and noise outside my window, it’s about three in the morning. Vibes is just around the corner. I’ve never been, but I’ve heard all about the dimly-lit back room and the club nights for all tastes. A stream of men pours out of its doors at closing time, buzzing with frustration and triumph.
Right about now, my roommates will be crowding into a diner booth, sharing all the gossip before they come home at dawn.
That could be me tomorrow. Three hours ago, I turned 21, and apparently there’s nowhere like Vibes on a Saturday night. My friends want me to come, too—in every possible way. But I’ve got a secret: my desires are too twisted to be fulfilled in the throbbing beat and dim light of the dance floor.
If only they knew what I get up to in the dark.
A stronger breeze rushes into the room. For a second, I swear I catch a glimpse of the darkened street, and shadows of people walking past, and I can hardly breathe.
Excitement flushes my cheeks and races down to the tips of my fingers. Just like that… I’m touching myself. The first brush of my fingertips against my swollen, needy shaft makes me swallow a moan.
“Fuck,” I breathe out.
A couple of strokes couldn’t hurt. Enough to settle myself down, right?
Ha. As if. I can’t fool myself… but I can’t stop myself, either. The head of my cock is glistening and wet with anticipation. I’m so turned on it almost hurts.
Maybe… maybe tonight, I could keep going, and it won’t take long, and I’ll be able to get there. After a sound night of sleep, I’ll wake up feeling like myself for the first time in weeks. I won’t need to guzzle coffee to survive my morning classes.
Oh, hell, why not? It’s after midnight, so it’s technically my birthday. And I deserve a treat. I just want to shoot my load so hard that I have to change my pillowcases.
“Mmm,” I groan softly, rolling my head back. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuck...”
The tight ring of my fingers feels so good around my sensitive hard-on. But this gentle pace isn’t going to get me there. I can barely feel a gentle touch anymore. It makes it even tougher to lose myself in the fantasy of being woken by a single fingertip stroking around my nipple, say…
Why can’t it be like that first night a few months ago?
I accidentally left the window open, and I woke to a chilly bedroom and the sound of partygoers. It was just a stray passing thought: What if a stranger sees my wide-open window? What if he does something about it?
I’ve never gotten so hard so fast in my life. And that was the moment my life went downhill.
Most nights since then, I’ve imagined that stranger, but I don’t even try to picture his face. The hot part isn’t who he is. It’s what he is—cocky, experienced, and certain about his desires—and what he does about it.
He’ll notice the curtains fluttering and step over the low front wall into our little front yard. He’ll slowly pull aside the curtains and find me here, splayed out and naked on the bed. And he’ll like what he sees.
I squeeze myself firmly until electric chills of pleasure shudder their way down my spine. My cock is throbbing, but the more I try to let my mind be swamped by pleasure, the further I feel from the climax I so badly need.
Come on. Please…?
I roll onto my side, my back to the window. I imagine the soft scrape as the mystery man pushes aside the little rickety deck chair that sits outside my window. He looks around to see if anyone’s watching. Then, he shoves his way through the curtain.
I hear his footfall, heavy on the wooden floor. It’s all I can do to control my breathing, keep it nice and deep and even so I can pretend I’m asleep as he prowls up to me…
Damn it. I’m even more turned on now, but the build-up is too slow. This isn’t going to be the quick release I was hoping for. I choke back a moan of frustration, my grip tightening around the throbbing length. The harder I go, the better chance I have of getting there. But, tomorrow night, I’ll need to go even harder.
Fuck.
I wish I could recapture the feeling I had when I first discovered my deepest fantasy. With such a vivid imagination, it only took me the slightest touch, a few tugs of my wrist, and I’d sleep so well afterward.
Now I’m just exhausted all the time… and more than a little lonely.
The answer is obvious. I should deny myself for a few nights. That’ll help me reset everything. The end result will be easier and better. But ever since I discovered this fantasy… it’s apparently become impossible to deny myself. The moment I wake up with hot, ferocious need burning through my veins, I forget all my promises.
Every night, I fall into the same trap, and I tell myself it’ll be different… and yet, every night, I find myself here.
I don’t even care about the price I’ll pay tomorrow. My fingers are curled around my stiff cock. I’m desperately pumping my hand up and down, pressing my face into the pillows as I imagine lying still for my perfect imaginary stranger.
It’s only ever been a fantasy, but this fantasy is all I want. Not writhing in pleasure on the dance floor as laser beams and hands slide across my bare skin. Not dimly-lit back rooms where men wear and wield leather. Not messaging strangers on all the apps, trying to find someone to invite in. I want someone to stumble upon me and sweep me away with the force of his desire.
And someday, my stranger will come—in more ways than one. But for tonight, it’s just me, the open window, and my forbidden dreams.
Chapter
One
BRIAR
“Heads up, birthday boy!”
A shot glass whizzes across the bar and slides to a halt right in front of me.
“Oh,” I stutter, my cheeks burning. I have no idea what alcohol’s in there, but it’s bright pink—and definitely a bad idea.
But then, I’m the motherfucking queen of the Realm of Bad Ideas.
“How’d you know?” I look up at the tall, blond, shirtless bartender.
He just winks. “Let’s call it magic. Happy twenty-first, sweetheart.”
There’s a little smattering of applause at that, and even a few catcalls. I blush and clear my throat, glancing around while trying to avoid catching the gaze of anyone in particular.
It suddenly feels like I’m the special of the night... and I don’t know how I feel about that.
“Hey, Em!” calls out a gray-haired guy sitting at the other end of the bar, waving down the bartender. He and his friends are all dressed up in leather, obviously going to the party at Vibes after this. “How much will you charge me to tell everyone I’m turning twenty-one, too?”
The bartender props a hand on his hip and turns to him. “My integrity is worth a small fortune, darling.”
“But Em’s OnlyFans is reasonably priced,” one of his friends heckles. Even Em joins in the laughter, and the feeling of being watched dissipates as conversations resume around me.
Phew, I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m glad the attention isn’t on me anymore.
That gives me a chance to raise my birthday shot to my lips for a cautious taste. To my relief, it slides sweetly past my lips, and it tastes like bubblegum.
Not bad, actually.
I sip slowly to make it last while I stare openly around, checking the place out. My friends and roommates are supposed to be showing up any time now, but obviously they aren’t here yet. They’re allergic to arriving on time.
That just means I get a chance to soak up all the magic I’ve only ever seen from through the windows. The promise of a long, thrilling night, the smell of cologne and beer and possibility…
It’s almost enough to make me reconsider my decision.
My friends don’t know that I’m not coming to Vibes. But I swear, I really am happy just to have birthday drinks, and then make up an excuse to head home. There’s no class tomorrow. I can take the whole night to indulge in my favorite fantasies… and maybe even get to the finish line this time.
Right now, I could sure use a mind-blowing orgasm or ten.
“Well, well, well,” says an unfamiliar voice. The warm purr drips into my ear, making heat rise to my cheeks. “Someone’s going to be the belle of the ball tonight.”
“Yeah. Just call me Beauty,” I snort, turning to see who it is.
Oh, shit.
This guy is older than me—probably by a good fifteen years—but he’s hot. He’s holding himself just a little further away than he has to, casually leaning one elbow against the counter. Like he could walk off at any moment.
And I’m surprised at how much I don’t want him to.
The stubble across his jaw is dotted with silver hairs. His bleach-blond hair is close-cropped, and he’s wearing a simple black leather jacket. His eyes are this intense, smoky gray, but there’s something light and mischievous about them. His full lips are framed by laugh lines, and his jaw is sharp and stubborn.
He’s the definition of a Daddy… and he’s winking right at me.
“I sure will, Beauty. Which is it?”
“Which… is what?” A nervous giggle escapes me as I fidget with the empty shot glass, blushing furiously.
“A sleeping beauty, seeking the right prince to kiss him and wake him at last?” he purrs, leaning his whole weight on the bar. His forearm is on the countertop, leaving his hand just an inch or two away from mine. “Or the kind of beauty who invites a beast into his bed?”
He raises an eyebrow, but I’m still just staring at him, my jaw hanging open.
I can’t believe he stumbled on my greatest fantasy within thirty seconds.
Where did he come from, anyway? I should have noticed a face like his—especially those eyes. Stormy dark gray, fine lines around them that hint at a big heart and soul… yet carefully guarded, giving nothing away.
And now I’m way too turned on to think straight.
Heat crawls up the back of my neck. My pants suddenly feel a whole lot tighter. The tingle on my skin is like a building electric charge. Sparks are gathering at my fingertips, ready to leap from my bare skin to his… the moment he touches me.
Fuck. I want him to touch me.
“Um…” My voice squeaks and I clear my throat, my tongue darting nervously across my lips.
“Uh huh?” This mysterious Daddy tilts his head, his eyes sparkling. He’s got this beautiful, wise, quiet confidence—the kind that doesn’t need to name itself out loud in order to be felt. I can feel it filling the whole damn bar right now as he watches me like he knows every thought crossing my mind.
And every desire tucked away in the back of my thoughts, where nobody can see them.
“I don’t know what I want,” I murmur, frustration rising in my chest. The words spill out before I can stop them. “And the only things I know I want… I don’t think I’m supposed to. Out of the two of them, I guess that makes me Sleeping Beauty. Just waiting around for someone else to want me first. Dumb, right?”
I duck my head with mortification, bracing myself.
But he isn’t laughing at me. “Beauty,” he says softly instead, and I look up at him. He’s smiling so gently at me that I can’t help but slowly relax. “It’s not an either-or. You get to try both… and the right man can be both.”
Holy shit. I’ve never met anyone who can calm me down and turn me on at the exact same moment.
The silence between us stretches out, and he’s still holding my gaze. I’m squirming on the bar stool, but he won’t let me look away. I can barely remember how to breathe. The only thing I can focus on anymore—besides the depths of his eyes—are his pale pink lips.
It takes all my bravery to murmur, “You’re right. Thanks, Daddy.”
Maybe that’ll make him kiss me.
The stranger’s eyes flash with amusement, and then he winks at me. “Anytime, Beauty.” But instead of leaning down and kissing me, he just raps the counter softly with his knuckles. “Now, go ahead.”
I squint with confusion. “Go ahead and…?” Kiss him? Is he actually reading my mind?
His eyes glimmer with amusement. “Try another sip,” he tells me, pointing at the shot glass I’m still clutching between my thumb and forefinger. “That’s the only way to figure out if you like it.”
“Oh,” I breathe out suddenly, and another nervous giggle slips free. “Oh, yeah.”
Shit. I only meant to sip it. But I’m so eager to obey him that I threw the whole glass back until the shot pours across my tongue, sticky-sweet.
It burns my throat and I stifle my cough with a fist, trying desperately to play it cool despite the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. I set the empty glass back on the counter and muffle another cough, then gulp a few times.
“Well?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Um…” I weakly cough again. “I don’t know. It’s okay?” He sighs at me like he’s disappointed, and I frown at him. “What?”
“How very twenty-one,” he sighs, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I don’t even have to feign indignation.
He glances over and pauses for a moment, like he’s about to say something else entirely. Then he changes his mind, and all of a sudden he wryly smiles at me. “Your tastebuds haven’t developed yet. Give it a decade, you won’t be able to drink that stuff.”
I fold my arms and stare up my nose at him. “Apparently some men are both. They talk like a prince, and they’ve got the manners of a beast.”
The Daddy stares at me—and then he laughs, loud and genuine, while I grin like the cat who got the cream. “Touché. I’m just a grumpy old fairy who’s tried it all before. You’re only young once, Beauty. Figure out what you want by kissing them all—the princes and the beasts.”
My friends still aren’t here—there’s no sign of them when I turn and glance over my shoulder—and somehow, it gives me a little more confidence. Maybe… just maybe, I can transform myself from shy, nervous Briar into a brave Beauty.
What would Beauty do? I already know the answer to that, so I clear my throat.
“I’ve never told anyone this... but there is one thing I know I want.”
This could go well—or very, very badly.
Chapter
Two
BRIAR
I don’t know how I went from tongue-tied to spilling my deepest secrets to this Daddy.
Maybe because there’s an energy about him that draws me in. He’s light and layered, complex. If he were a drink, he’d be… aged whisky, I guess. And he’s not wrong: I’m a basic pineapple daiquiri bitch.
Not even that—I’m a virgin daiquiri. I’ve always dreamed of making it to the cocktail page, if you get what I mean. But I’ve never been this excited about flirting with anyone before.
