Prompt: photography, Christmas Eve, first kiss


Belle never got tired of seeing the snow. The Marchlands had been warm, and for as long as she could remember, snow had not fallen there. As a girl, she had read stories of harsh winters, of horse-drawn sleighs and ice fairs, of thick blankets of white powder that piled up and trapped people in their cottages, huddled for warmth by roaring fires. The Dark Castle had been warm too, even when the snow lay in drifts up to the huge front doors. Warm enough that she didn't have to wrap a shawl around herself when reading in her library, where Rumplestiltskin would occasionally join her. He would spin, the rhythmic creaking of the wheel providing a comforting, almost hypnotic background noise as she buried herself in stories of heroines and great adventures. The falling snow had pattered against the diamond-paned windows, quiet as little cat-feet, clinging to the lead mullions and making the moonlight all the brighter for shining through it. She had caught him staring at her sometimes, the bluish light of the snow brightening the room, and he had quickly looked away, returning to his spinning. It had been a strange game they had played, of quick, awkward touches and him retreating to his tower whenever she tried to get too near him.

Belle had marvelled at the crisp whiteness of snow the first time it blanketed the grounds of the Dark Castle, and had sat by the windows after finishing her chores, watching birds and rabbits leave their footprints in looping trails around the gardens. The snow seemed to muffle the sounds of nature; the world seemed a quieter place, as though it was holding its breath until the first warmth of spring.

Rumplestiltskin had been amused by her fascination with the winter wonderland outside the castle windows, and had led her out into the gardens, wrapped up in a fur-lined cloak and thick boots. Belle had exclaimed in delight over the carpet of white, running through it clumsily, bundled up in her furs, her cheeks pink with the cold. He had watched her with a strange expression that she hadn't quite understood then. She understood it now, that tenderness that softened his face, that slight look of wonder, as though he couldn't believe she was real. It had lasted until she threw a snowball at him. Five minutes later she had been on the verge of stalking back into the castle, snow down the front of her dress and a scowl on her face. He had then used magic to vanish the snow, and had given her his cloak, and she resolved never to throw snowballs at a powerful sorcerer again. At least not when he could see them coming.

Snow in Storybrooke was not quite as pretty, with the cars turning the powder on the streets to greying slush. The storefronts were all made up for Christmas, decorations making her smile, and the coloured lights twinkling outside Granny's made patterns in the crisp whiteness as she headed towards the diner, shopping bags swinging from her hands. Belle was wrapped snugly in thick tights, a black skirt and a heavy padded coat, a silk and wool scarf looped around her neck for extra warmth and a fur-lined hat on her head. She walked briskly, her breath misting in the air in front of her. Hours had passed since she had woken up in the warmth of Rumple's arms, and venturing out into the cold had been bracing, to say the least. She had decided on a final present, and was hoping that she would manage to get the help she needed to finish it off. Pushing her chin down into her scarf, she hurried across the street to the inviting warmth of Granny's, and heaved a sigh as she entered the diner, stamping the snow from her boots and rubbing her hands together.

"Belle!" said Ruby warmly, from behind the bar. "What can I get you?"

"Oh, I think it's hot cocoa weather," said Belle fervently, pulling off her hat and gloves, and her friend grinned and flounced away to place the order, leaving Belle to pull herself up onto one of the bar stools next to Leroy.

"Merry Christmas, Leroy," she said with a grin, and he grunted at her, glowering into his coffee, which smelt suspiciously of whisky. "Come on!" she said teasingly. "I bet you and the dwarfs love Christmas, and you just don't want to admit it."

"It's okay, I guess," he grumbled, but his eyes twinkled at her. He nodded at the bag she carried. "Christmas shopping, huh? What exactly do you get the Dark One who has everything?"

"Never you mind," said Belle primly, and giggled as he blushed a little. Ruby placed her hot chocolate on the counter, and Belle wrapped her hands around its warmth, breathing in the sweet scent of cocoa and cinnamon.

"What are you doing this evening?" asked Ruby, leaning on the counter with her chin on her hands.

"I have no idea," admitted Belle, and Ruby shoved her.

"Come on! It's Christmas Eve! Don't you want to snuggle under the mistletoe?"

"I find it hard to believe that people need an evergreen sprig above them before they feel they can kiss," said Belle dryly. "It doesn't stop us the rest of the year."

"Glad to hear it," smirked Ruby. She batted her eyelids and pursed her lips, making a kissy noise at Belle, who blushed.

"That reminds me," she said self-consciously, and reached into one of her bags, turning her body slightly so Leroy couldn't see what she was doing. Ruby looked on curiously, then Belle pulled out a book, handing it to Ruby with its cover facing down. Ruby's face split from ear to ear in a huge grin.

"I hope you found it – informative," she said knowingly, her eyes sparkling.

Belle gave her a little smile. "We didn't have any books on this back home," she confessed. "At least, if there were any in my father's library, I never found them."

"Well, I'm always happy to improve your knowledge in this area," said Ruby, still grinning. Belle was really blushing now, and Leroy was looking curious. Belle leaned forward a little, lowering her voice to a whisper.

"That thing in chapter seven," she said softly. "Do they – really like to do that?"

Ruby wrinkled her nose. "Some do, some don't. Get him to try, it's awesome!"

"Do I want to know what you two are talking about?" asked Leroy apprehensively.

"Playing soccer," said Ruby immediately, and Belle giggled. Leroy grunted.

"Forget I asked," he said sourly, and took a slurp of his whisky-laced coffee.

Remembering something, Belle rummaged in one of the bags at her feet, and pulled out a smaller bag stuffed with wrapped presents. She held it out to him with a warm smile.

"Here," she said. "Tell all the dwarfs Merry Christmas."

Leroy looked shocked, eyes flicking from the bag to Belle and back again.

"You – got us gifts?" he said, and Belle giggled at his expression.

"Of course! And no, I don't expect anything in return. It's just a little something for each of you, that's all. Put them under your tree, or whatever you guys have, and enjoy!"

Leroy was wearing an expression that was somewhere between adoration and self-consciousness, and Belle took pity on him, leaning in to kiss his whiskery cheek and turning back to Ruby as he peered into the bag.

"So, what did you get Gold?" asked her friend, and Belle sighed, lifting another bag up onto the counter and pulling a large, velvet-bound book out of it. Ruby eyed it curiously.

"I got him other things," Belle admitted. "But I had this idea today, and I couldn't seem to shake it. I need someone with magic, though. Have you seen Emma?"

Ruby shook her head. "Haven't seen her all day. Why?"

"I – need a spell," said Belle self-consciously. "It's a fairly simple one, from what I've read, but I'm not naturally gifted at this sort of thing."

Ruby gave her a look of understanding. "I'm guessing you don't want to ask Regina."

Belle pulled a face. "I don't think our relationship is quite up to asking favours," she acknowledged, and sighed. "I was really hoping Emma would be here. I can't ask Rumple, of course."

"Magic?" said Leroy, pulling his attention back to them. He patted Belle's shoulder. "I may have just the person."


"Are you sure you want me to do this?" asked Astrid nervously, bobbing up and down on her toes. "I'll probably screw it up, you know. I'm really clumsy. What if my spell makes his head fall off or something?"

Belle giggled, putting a hand on her arm. "I doubt that would happen," she said comfortingly, and Leroy nodded, grinning at Astrid.

"You won't screw it up," he said assuredly. "You'll be incredible!"

Astrid returned his smile with a dazzling one of her own, and Leroy seemed to change in that instant. There was a light in his eyes, a spark of hope that Belle hadn't seen since she had first met the optimist Dreamy in that tavern in the Enchanted Forest, what seemed an age ago. She hoped the two of them could work through what was keeping them apart in this life. She knew true love when she saw it. She could feel it, coming off them in waves. Astrid was trying not to react too much to Leroy's words, but there was a blush high on her cheeks, and when she looked at him, and their eyes locked, the rest of the world seemed to fall away. Belle recognised it; she knew that was how she felt when she looked into Rumple's eyes.

"Well?" she asked gently, pulling Astrid's gaze back to her. Her smile widened as the fairy blushed harder, trying not to look at Leroy. Astrid nodded hurriedly.

"I can do it," she confirmed. "But this is light magic, Belle. I'm not certain it'll work for him. Your feelings have to be pure when you use the spell. It works off love, not simply power."

Belle smiled. "He can do it," she said confidently, and Astrid nodded slowly, sharing a final, nervous smile with Leroy.

"Stand back," she said, and flourished her wand over the book in Belle's hands.


The house was empty when Belle got home, and she let herself in, shrugging out of her coat and scarf. She carried her bags of gifts through to the lounge, turning on the Christmas tree lights and setting the presents carefully beneath the tree. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was approaching six. He'd be home soon. She quickly lit the candles she had carefully placed around the room, turning off the main light so that the lounge was bathed in a warm glow from the candle flames and the lights on the Christmas tree. She then trotted upstairs to wash and change, slipping into a long nightdress of dark green silk. The colour suited her pale skin and dark hair, and she smiled at her reflection in the mirror, brushing her hair up into a loose bun and pulling on her robe. She heard his keys in the door, and her smile widened.

"Belle?" She could hear him putting his keys down.

"I'm up here, Rumple," she called. "I'll be down in a second."

She dabbed a small amount of scent on her pulse points, and took a deep breath. The book that Ruby had lent her had been most informative, and she couldn't wait to try out some of the things she'd read about. Starting with chapter seven.

She made her way downstairs, listening out for the tiny sounds that would tell her where he had gone, and she smiled as she heard the clink of glasses in the kitchen. He emerged just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, an opened bottle of wine and two glasses in his hands. His eyebrows twitched at the sight of her.

"Am I late?" he asked, confused, and Belle giggled.

"No! I just wanted to change into something more comfortable. Bring those through."

She trotted into the lounge, and he followed her obediently, flicking his hand at the fire and making it roar to life. Belle seated herself on the couch, patting the cushion beside her, and he stared at her for a moment.

"You look as though you're plotting something," he said slowly. "Should I be worried?" His eyebrows twitched as he said it, the ghost of a smile on his face, and Belle bit her lip, looking up at him through thick lashes.

"Maybe," she said coyly, and he smirked, moving to sit next to her. He poured them each a glass of wine, and Belle took a mouthful, savouring the flavour of black cherries and spice, the warmth of the wine as it flowed down her throat. He was watching her, the light from the candles making his skin glow, picking out the silver in his hair. Impulsively, she reached out to touch him, her palm gently stroking over his cheek, and he smiled at her, his eyes filled with love.

"You look beautiful," he said softly, and she blushed a little, sitting back.

"I – have a present for you," she said, and he looked curious.

"Isn't it traditional to give the presents tomorrow?" he asked, and Belle chuckled.

"Since when have we been traditional? I want you to have this one tonight. I hope it works." She bit her lip again, and reached under the couch to bring up the large parcel she had stowed there.

"Well, now I'm intrigued," he said dryly, setting down his wine glass and taking the package from her. Belle watched eagerly as he tore off the paper, to reveal…

"A photograph album," he said, surprised. "I don't recall you having an interest in photography." He frowned suddenly, tensing his arms and shoulders. "There's magic here. Fairy magic. What is this?"

Belle put a soft hand on his, gently stroking the back of his hand with her thumb.

"I couldn't find Emma," she said gently. "And there's no way I was going to Regina. It wasn't Blue. Astrid helped me."

"Ah." He looked slightly less wary. Slightly. "Why would you go to a fairy in the first place?"

Belle reached up to touch his face again, turning his head so that she could look into the depths of his eyes. They had narrowed, his nostrils flaring at the scent of the magic.

"I went to Astrid, because I wanted you to have more than the memories in your head," she said softly, her thumb stroking his cheek. "Hold the book, and think of him. Think of Baelfire. All your memories of him. All the best, purest memories you can find."

Rumple sighed in a defeated manner, briefly turning his head to kiss her palm. She sat back, watching, as he took the photograph album in both hands and closed his eyes. A pale light spread out from the book, creeping up his arms to cover his head and shoulders. Belle ran her eyes over him, fascinated, as the pure glow bathed him from head to foot. He was gritting his teeth, his entire body shaking, his face twisted in what was almost a snarl.

"It hurts!" he hissed, and Belle bit her lip anxiously. The pale glow suddenly vanished, and Rumple let his head drop, panting. Belle immediately put a hand on his arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and he nodded, a little breathless.

"Fairy magic," he explained. "Doesn't mix well with what I am, sweetheart."

"Oh." She hadn't thought of that. "I didn't know it would hurt you, Rumple, I'm so sorry."

"All magic comes with a price," he said wearily. "Let's see what we bought, shall we?"

He opened up the album, and Belle gasped as he turned the thick pages. There, set down on every one, were pictures of his son, a few seconds of movement in each one. Moments in time, playing over and over. Images of Baelfire as a tiny, swaddled infant, a plump, pink arm waving up at the viewer. Images of him as a small child on stubby legs, smiling up with a gummy, gap-toothed grin. There were pictures of him as a boy just into his teens with dark hair and his father's deep brown eyes. As a grown man, with his own son. With Emma, and Henry, hugging and laughing. With Belle. The last picture was of Baelfire lying in what she knew were his father's arms, looking up at him with eyes filled with love and forgiveness. Rumple reached out hesitantly to touch the picture, to run his fingertip over the image of his son's cheek.

"Oh, Bae!" he whispered sadly, and Belle tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. She reached out, put her hand over his.

"I didn't want to upset you," she faltered. "I just – I wanted you to have something you could look at, something that would remind you of him. I remember – my mother, when she died, I felt as though my heart would break. I worry sometimes that I'll forget what she looked like, and I didn't want you to suffer like that. I just – I thought…"

She was beginning to think that this was the worst idea ever, but then Rumple turned to her with a wobbly smile and the light of unshed tears in his eyes.

"It's wonderful, sweetheart," he said fervently. "Thank you so much."

He bent to kiss her, his mouth clumsily finding hers, and Belle responded, letting her fingers push through his hair. His lips pulled gently at hers as she breathed in his scent, and he was smiling as he sat back.

"Beautiful," he whispered. "My beautiful Belle. I don't deserve you, my love."

"Of course you do," she said softly. "You deserve to be loved, Rumple. And you are, I promise." She kissed him again, nuzzling him gently, and remembered the Christmas traditions she had learned about.

"We shouldn't be kissing here," she said decidedly, and his eyebrows jerked in amusement.

"Oh? Shall we go upstairs, then?"

Belle bit her lip, making his eyes darken, and stood up, holding out her hands to him. He looked at her for a brief moment, running his eyes over her, and set the photograph album to one side, stroking his hand over the velvet cover with a look of tenderness in his eyes. Belle's heart swelled with her love for him, and as he turned to face her once more she beckoned with the curling tips of her fingers. He slid his palms across hers, allowing her to pull him to his feet, and she pointed to the sprig of mistletoe she had hung from the light fitting.

"Ruby tells me there's a tradition in this land of sharing kisses beneath this poisonous parasitic plant," she said, and he chuckled.

"Ruby is quite correct," he said, amused. Belle frowned.

"It doesn't seem very romantic to me, but I thought we'd try," she said. "Kiss me, Rumple."

He was still grinning when he reached for her, his hands cupping her face, thumbs stroking the soft skin of her cheeks. Eyes softening, he bent his head to touch noses, and she felt his cool breath dance over her skin.

"I love you," he whispered, and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was soft and warm, and she let out a hum of pleasure as his tongue parted her lips. Her hands reached up to unbutton his jacket, flicking it open and pulling it from his shoulders, and Rumple chuckled into her mouth as he shrugged it off. He pulled away from her momentarily to throw the jacket over the back of a chair, and turned with a grin on his face and a gleam in his eyes.

"The mistletoe appears to be working," he said smugly, and Belle giggled, placing the flat of her hands on his warm chest as she gazed up at him.

"Kiss me again," she said invitingly, and he bent his head to hers once more, the tip of his tongue gently running over the seam of her lips until she opened for him.

Belle let herself sink into him, her body moulding against his. His touch was light, delicate, his fingers running softly over her arms and making her shiver. She remembered how gentle he'd been with her the first time, when everything was new, when she had been nervous. His hands had been shaking as he undressed her, as though he were scared of hurting her, and this had given her a strange sort of courage. She had stepped closer, reaching up to kiss him, to pull him to her and let his long fingers peel the silk from her skin. She reached out to him now, wanting to give him reassurance, wanting to show him how deeply she loved him. Her fingers slid into his soft hair, gently keeping him there, her tongue delicately probing his mouth. She let out a tiny noise as his tongue touched hers, before pulling back and smiling up at him. He touched her forehead with his in a gesture of affection, and she let her hands stroke down his back, tugging the shirt from his pants and slipping inside to run over his warm skin.

"Oh, Belle!" he breathed, and she smiled, kissing him again. He let his fingers slide into her hair, hands cupping her face, and gazed down at her lovingly.

"I love you so much!" he whispered, and she smiled, cupping his cheek.

"I know," she said softly. "And I love you."

She shrugged out of her robe, letting it fall to the floor, revealing her silk nightdress. It was the rich, dark green of holly leaves, and Rumple's mouth dropped open as he ran his eyes over her curves, over the pale skin of her arms and the curves of her breasts. He reached up to pull the pins from her hair, letting her dark curls fall down in waves across her shoulders, gazing at her reverently as she shook out her tresses.

"You look so beautiful," he said softly, and Belle plucked at his tie, undoing it and throwing it aside. He was watching her avidly, and let her unbutton his shirt, his hands reaching out to cup her breasts through the silk.

"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked, and Belle shook her head.

"No. By the fire. I want you to take me on the rug."

He growled something incomprehensible at that, his grip tightening a little, and kissed her more passionately, his tongue probing her mouth. Belle gasped as he squeezed her, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over her nipples. She tore her mouth away, letting him kiss down her throat, moaning as he found her pulse point. Her belly was aching with need, and she made a noise of triumph as she finally got his shirt open. He had to stop kissing her while he removed his cufflinks, and Belle took the opportunity to leap at him, kissing his chest, running her hands up and down his back. She sucked on his nipple, making him yelp.

"Bloody hell, woman!" he gasped, still fighting with his shirt. She giggled, sucked him again, and tweaked his other nipple with her thumb and forefinger. Rumple finally got the shirt off, and grabbed her, pulling her to him and kissing her thoroughly. His kisses slowed, became softer, gentler, and his mouth trailed across her cheek to her earlobe, making her gasp. She felt his hands stroke up her arms, his thumbs delicately sliding beneath the shoulder straps of her nightdress. He kissed down her throat, and Belle shivered as he gently pushed the straps down, over her shoulders, down her arms, the silk loosening on her breasts, exposing her pale curves. He made a deep, throaty sound of pleasure as her dusky pink nipples were revealed, and gently sank his teeth into her neck, making her clutch at him.

"Rumple?" she murmured, as he worked his way down her neck to her collar bones.

"Mm-hmm?" He had reached the top of her chest, and was kissing his way across the soft mounds of her breasts. Belle bit back a moan. It was difficult to keep her train of thought when his hair was tickling her chest and his kisses changed from soft and gentle to hot and wet. His tongue swirled around her nipple and she moaned again as he sucked it into his mouth, his hands stroking over the smooth skin of her back and sliding around to cup her. The silk nightdress had fallen to her waist, her breasts completely exposed, her taut stomach hitching slightly with desire.

"Rumple, you – you know I love your kisses," she went on, finding it increasingly difficult to form words. "It's just – Ruby lent me a book."

She felt him smile against her skin.

"You wish to discuss books?" he murmured. "I had no idea your passion for them transcended all others." His tongue flickered out, catching her again, and Belle gasped, clutching at him.

"No! I just – it taught me about the things that can happen between a man and a woman, and I wanted to try some, that's all." Why did she have to start blushing now? Why?

He straightened up slowly, his face inscrutable, his pupils wide and dark with lust.

"You read a sex book?" he said neutrally. Belle blushed harder.

"Yes," she admitted. "There was nothing like that in the Enchanted Forest."

He grinned evilly at that. "Clearly you didn't work your way through my entire library, then."

Belle's eyes widened, her mouth falling open, and he waved a hand.

"No matter. What was it you were saying?" He was still grinning at her, and she sighed, fingers gently kneading the flesh at his sides.

"Our first kiss," she ventured. "It was beautiful, and magical, until…"

"Until I ruined everything," he said dryly. "Go on."

Belle sighed again. She hadn't wanted to make him feel bad about himself. He did quite enough of that for both of them. She ran her hands over his firm chest, loving the feel of him shudder slightly at her touch. One hand travelled down his arm, and she slid her fingers around his wrist.

"I want a different first kiss," she said shyly, her cheeks aflame. "I want you to kiss me…here."

She pulled his hand with hers, placing it between her legs, and Rumple's eyebrows shot up. Belle loosed his wrist, and he cupped her, heat burning through her from his touch.

"A first kiss," he rasped. "Here? Where I love you?"

Belle nodded, biting her lip.

"Ruby said some men don't like to," she said lamely.

"Some men are idiots," he breathed, and he kissed her again, his fingers gently stroking her through the silk. She moaned into his mouth, and he kissed across her cheek and down her throat, running his tongue over her skin and up to her ear.

"I've wanted to taste you for so long, my darling," he whispered. "Lie down."

Breathing hard, Belle immediately dropped to her knees on the rug, looking up at him through her dark lashes. He was unbuckling his belt, the firelight making shadows play across his face, making his features more angular. His skin was warm in the light of the candles, his eyes dark, and she felt the familiar flutter of desire deep in her belly as his gaze locked with hers.

"You're beautiful," she breathed, and he gave her his usual self-deprecating grin, his eyes rolling somewhat. Her breath hitched as he removed his pants and underwear, dropping down to join her on the rug.

"Lie back, sweetheart," he said softly, and Belle obeyed, letting the deep pile of the rug cradle her. He knelt above her, hands on her raised knees, and gently slid the silk up her thighs, baring her pale skin. Belle could almost feel the beat of her heart, her breath quickening as his hands slid up her legs, and she let out a tiny gasp as he kissed the inside of her knee. His hair was tickling her thighs, and she bit back a giggle as he gently kissed his way up.

Rumple took his time, running his lips over her smooth skin. He had wanted to do this for her for so long, but her relative innocence had made him wait for her to make the first move, to indicate that she was happy to explore new things. He smiled as he thought about her reading whatever book Ruby had given her, desperate to learn, wanting to know everything. He wondered what else she had discovered, and when they would experiment with her findings. Images flashed through his head, all the ways he could love Belle, all the ways he could turn her into a moaning, panting wreck in his arms, and he hardened further at the thought of it.

Long fingers pushed the silk up over her hips, until it was bundled around her waist, until she was exposed to him, soft dark curls against her milky skin, the faint hint of her arousal glistening in the candlelight. He bent his head to kiss her inner thigh, his tongue swirling against her skin, and Belle let out a tiny moan as he slowly made his way nearer to where she wanted him. The muscles of her legs twitched as he kissed her, and he smiled.

"Relax, my love," he said softly.

Belle sighed, sinking into the rug a little more. She was trembling with anticipation, wanting him to kiss her, to show her. Raising her head as his mouth moved closer, she caught his eye. He was grinning wickedly at her, and she bit her lip anxiously.

"Relax," he repeated, and Belle let her head fall back, trusting him. He lowered his mouth to her curls, pressing a soft kiss to her outer lips, first one side, then the other. Belle let out a tiny noise of pleasure at the feel of him there, thinking that the sensation was quite nice, but not exactly what chapter seven had prepared her for. The first sweep of his soft tongue in between her folds made her jerk upwards with a cry.

"Ssssh!" he said soothingly. "Lie back, sweetheart."

Belle obeyed, trembling, and his tongue found her again, licking slowly against her, working its way in circles to where she knew he could make her fall apart with his touch. Her hands dropped to clutch handfuls of his hair, her breath coming in pants.

Rumple groaned at the taste of her, sweet musk and salt. He had wanted her this way for so long, had wanted to feel her come against his lips and taste her pleasure on his tongue. Her thighs were gripping the sides of his head, her scent surrounding him. He was hard and straining, the weave of the rug providing a delightful friction against his swollen cock, and he rubbed back and forth as he licked her. His tongue probed her, slipping inside where he wanted to be, where he would be, just as soon as he made her scream for him. The tip of his tongue circled her clit, making Belle yowl, and he smirked, licking her again, flicking at her clit with the tip, rubbing rhythmically with the flat of his tongue. Belle's chest was heaving, her pelvis moving in time with him, her fingers twisting painfully in his hair.

"Oh, Rumple, please!" she gasped, and he smiled broadly.

"Are you close, my love?" he asked gently.

"Yes – I…" She heaved a breath, the sensations he was causing making her pant and writhe. She could feel it building, could feel the waves wanting to break over her. He went back to his rhythmic licking, his tongue flickering over her, and she felt her limbs begin to shake with the tension, her breath quickening, her entire body moving in time with him.

Rumple could feel it as she neared her peak, and slowly slipped his forefinger inside her, making her cry out. A second finger joined the first, and he sucked her swollen clit in between his lips as he crooked the fingers. Muscles clamped down on him as Belle came with a shriek, her hips bucking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her. He continued to lick her, withdrawing his fingers so that he could slip his tongue into her again, so that he could taste the sweetness of her bliss. He was on the edge himself, from the feel of her, from the taste of her, and he longed to be inside her. Her cries faded to moans, her movements slowing, and he kissed her curls once more, kissed her inner thighs, as the last few jerks and twitches of her orgasm passed.

Belle lay gasping, bright colours still swirling in her head.

"That was…" she breathed. "Oh, Rumple, that was incredible!"

He kissed his way up her body, spreading the scent of her pleasure, getting it in his hair and all over his torso, covering himself in her. She could feel him, hard against her belly, and smiled up at him as he looked down on her.

"I want you," she whispered, and he groaned, bending to kiss her. She could smell herself on him, the heady musk of her excitement, and she opened her mouth to him as he took her face in his hands, his kiss sweet and languid, his fingers sticky from her juices. His tongue slipped gently against hers, just as he had teased her between her legs, and she reached down between them, taking him in hand. There was wetness there too, fluid leaking from him, a sign of his own arousal, and she found herself wondering what he tasted like. Thoughts of exploring the delights promised by chapter five of Ruby's book would have to wait, though. She wanted him inside her. She lined them up, rubbing the end of his cock against her slippery flesh, and he groaned aloud.

"Gods, Belle!" he said fervently, his accent deepening, thickening. She loved to hear that, to hear how close he was to losing that control he prided himself on.

"Take me," she said simply, and he thrust into her with a cry, filling her. Belle clung to him, wrapping her legs around his back, kissing him hard as he moved inside her.

"I love you!" he whispered desperately. "Oh, my Belle, I love you so, so much!"

"Yes!" she breathed, feeling him deep inside, feeling him rub against her, making her head spin. His chest was pressing down on her, the firm slender muscles of his back and shoulders jumping beneath her fingertips. His scent surrounded her, filling her head with nothing but him, nothing but them, and she let her fingers push through his hair, kissing him again. His hands were stroking her hair, his thumbs on her smooth cheeks, his tongue dancing with hers as he thrust into her. She could feel the pleasure building again, and broke the kiss, letting her head roll back.

"Oh, gods, Rumple, I'm almost there!" she gasped. "Please, my love!"

He quickened his pace, his body tensing, and she reached up to cup his cheek, brushing his hair back from his face. He kissed her again, pressing his forehead to hers, and raised himself up slightly so that he could meet her eyes. Belle felt a stab of need go through her at the intensity of his gaze, the longing that poured out of him at the height of their loving. He let go with a cry, with a groaning gasp as she felt him pulse inside her, and the sensation made her break for a second time, her squeal of delight muffled by sinking her teeth into his neck. Her nails clawed his back as stars burst behind her eyes, and she felt him thrusting hard, pulsing over and over as his hot seed squirted into her. Belle clung to him, breathing hard, perspiration coating her hot skin, and he collapsed onto her with a groan, pushing his head into the hollow between her neck and shoulder, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Eventually he lifted his head, gazing down on her with a look of wonder as he brushed a stray curl from her damp forehead.

"Well, well," he said breathlessly. "I really must thank the lovely Miss Lucas for lending you books."

Belle grinned. "I'm trying chapter five on you later," she announced, and her grin widened as he looked curious. "No spoilers," she added.

He kissed her, his lips soft, his hands cupping her face. She melted into him, running her hands through his hair, feeling him soften. She loved this, loved being so close to him, to have him there. To have him inside her, a part of her.

"I love you," she said softly. "Merry Christmas, Rumple."

He smiled gently, nuzzling her nose with his.

"Yes," he said softly. "I do believe it is."