If she was ever questioned on it, Belle would blame the heat.
Well, the heat and her stupid teenage hormones making her do silly, inappropriate things.
It was July in Storybrooke. Belle was home for the summer after her first year of college, and she'd spent the past several weeks working in Mr. Gold's pawnshop in order to raise a little money before school started up again.
She'd also spent the past several weeks lusting after her boss.
It was ridiculous, really. She'd known Mr. Gold her whole life. He'd been their landlord as long as she could remember, stopping by her father's flower shop on a monthly basis to glower at Moe until he coughed up whatever he owed. Her father was a big man, well over 6 foot with broad shoulders and big callused hands. But when Mr. Gold came around, Belle could swear he shrunk to half his size, cowering under the glare of the much smaller man.
Her father hated him.
In all honesty, that fact probably contributed to her extremely inappropriate crush. Her father had been livid when she agreed to work for Gold. He'd insisted if she wanted a summer job that badly, she could always work at Game of Thorns. It took Belle pointing out that she would gladly work in the flower shop if her father wanted to match the nine dollars an hour Mr. Gold had promised that finally had him relenting.
In truth, no amount of money could have dragged her from that dusty shop. Belle was tired of being the good daughter. Her entire life she'd always done exactly what she was told. She'd done her homework, made good grades, never stayed out late. She'd been accepted to a good university, and she'd made straight A's her first year. She'd never put a single toe out of line, always following the rules and doing exactly as was expected of her.
She was the good twin, and she was fucking sick of it. Her sister, Lacey, had long been the wild child. She wore short skirts and stayed out until all hours. She drank whiskey, listened to loud music and had sex with inappropriate men she met at the Rabbit Hole. Lacey's life was a mess, and Belle envied her for it.
And so, while idly dusting the shop or filling out paperwork in the back office, she would often find herself thinking of ways she could act out. It was perhaps a little late for a teenage rebellion. She was already nineteen, in a few shorts months she wouldn't be a teenager anymore at all. Maybe that fact also contributed to her need for delinquency.
But it wasn't just the desire for rebellion that had her watching Mr. Gold from afar, appreciating the way his suit jacket strained against his shoulders as he bent over his work desk, his nimble fingers resetting diamonds in an antique necklace. Mr. Gold was fearsome, terrifying, he had the whole town shaking in their proverbial boots, but he always had a smile for Belle. She'd long since lost any fear she might have once had of the man. You couldn't fear a man who caught you in his arms when you clumsily fell off a step ladder, who merely shrugged when you damaged a priceless antique tea set, who noticed your love of books and gave you leather bound first editions free of charge.
No, if Belle only wanted to act out, she could choose any Tom, Dick or Harry in Storybrooke. She wanted Mr. Gold, because he was Mr. Gold. Because she dreamed of the way his hands would feel on her skin, because she wanted more than anything to know his first name so she could gasp it out at night when she buried her fingers between her thighs and thought of him. Belle French wanted Mr. Gold, but Belle French had no idea how to go about getting him. She was also fairly sure Mr. Gold had never given her a passing thought in that way. How could he? He was forty-something, wealthy, intelligent and world travelled. Belle was a silly nineteen-year-old virgin in a demure sundress who'd spent the majority of her freshman year of college studying alone in her dorm room and hadn't left New England since a plane flight brought her there from Australia when she was 9.
Belle French couldn't seduce the fearsome Mr. Gold, but she had a pretty good idea of someone who could.
That's how she found herself standing in front of Lacey's mess of a closet on a Saturday night. Her twin had taken her fake id down to the Rabbit Hole to hustle pool, her father was at his weekly poker game, and Belle was left home alone. She pulled out a pair of her sister's tiniest shorts and a low cut top with an open back. After a bit of deliberation, she grabbed a pair of Lacey's highest heels as well.
Making her way to the hall bathroom, she piled her chestnut curls up on her head, emptying half a can of hairspray to get the hairdo to stay. Smokey eyes and red lipstick completed her look. Standing back to gaze at her reflection in the mirror, Belle cocked a hip and bit her lip in her best impression of Lacey. It was an act she'd perfected over the years. She and her sister had switched places frequently throughout their childhoods. By high school, she could do a convincing enough job of it to fool her father when Lacey spent the night out. He never wondered where Belle was in those moments, knowing she'd never be up to any trouble.
They had the same Australian accent, but Lacey's was slightly lower pitched, huskier. She tried out her twin's voice in the mirror.
"Well, hello, Mr. Gold," Lacey said to her from the bathroom mirror.
Belle grinned at the convincing illusion. She didn't even feel self-conscious about the amount of leg and cleavage she had on display. Tonight, she was Lacey, and Lacey always got what she wanted.
She only needed one more thing to complete her Lacey transition. Carrying the obscenely high heels in one hand, she sprinted down the stairs to the empty flower shop. Finding her way back to her father's small office, she reached under his desk to find the hidden key he had stashed there. She unlocked the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels.
She and Lacey had found their father's secret stash when they were twelve. Moe had been making late deliveries the night before Valentine's Day and had left the girls alone. Egged on by her sister, Belle and Lacey had sat on the floor of the office passing a bottle back and forth between them. They'd both found it disgusting, but the illicitness of the act had made it worth their while. By the time their father arrived home, the drawer was safely locked once more and both girls had found their way to bed. Belle can still remember the headache she'd had the next day.
Lacey had eventually developed a taste for the stuff, sneaking down frequently to swipe liquor from the cabinet. Belle had never really found the appeal. But tonight, she was Lacey, and Lacey drank hard liquor.
Taking a swig straight from the bottle, Belle tried not to grimace as it burned down the back of her throat. It warmed her belly and left her feeling slightly less nervous. She took another drink to calm her nerves, and then one more for good luck. Then she returned the bottle to the cabinet, slipped on her heels and made her way out into the warm Storybrooke night.
Belle was almost regretting the three shots of whiskey she'd taken by the time she reached Gold's Pawnshop. Her head felt a little dizzy and her stomach was churning in an uncomfortable way. Why had she thought she could do this? She was just a child playing dress up. A silly little virgin with a crush on an older man. Who was to say he'd want Lacey anymore than he'd want Belle?
She'd almost talked herself into turning around and going home when she saw movement in the shop. She knew Gold spent his Saturday nights staying late, reviewing contracts and catching up on paperwork. Belle thought he secretly liked sitting alone in his shop, like a dragon with his hoard of treasures. The shop was closed, so he didn't have to worry about customers or desperate souls looking to make a deal. When she'd inquired why he stayed late on a weekend, he told her it was when he got his best thinking done. That he'd pour a drink, put on a record, and be at peace.
Maybe she should leave him to that peace. Belle started to back away from the shop when she caught sight of her reflection in the window. The teased hair, the bold make-up, the revealing outfit. She looked like Lacey, and it was the confidence boost she needed. She didn't want to be a "good girl" anymore, and she wanted Mr. Gold to be the reason.
She pushed open the front door of the pawnshop, and Lacey sauntered in, the tinkling sound of bells giving away her presence.
"We're closed," she heard Mr. Gold call from the back of the shop.
Belle put on her best sultry Lacey face and strolled through the curtain, leaning casually against the door frame.
"I know," she said, Gold looking up from the papers spread out on his work bench at the sound of her voice. "I thought you might want some company."
Gold raised an eyebrow, his eyes sweeping over her form in a way that made her shiver. "And why would you think that, dearie?"
Belle shrugged as she walked further into the room, coming to a stop across the work bench from him and leaning her palms against the polished wood giving him a rather nice view of her cleavage. She didn't miss the way his eyes flicked down before coming back to her face. "Belle said she thinks you're lonely. Maybe I could change that."
The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Does Belle think about me often?"
Belle shrugged again. "You're a handsome man, Mr. Gold. A girl could get ideas spending all day, every day in close quarters with you."
Gold just stared at her for a moment, as if she were a puzzle he was trying to figure out. She felt as though he was deconstructing her. It was uncomfortable, and she had almost resolved to leave again when his mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile.
"What are you doing here, Miss French?"
Belle bent forward even more, leaning her elbows against the bench and resting her face in her hands. She was practically laying across his desk, her face mere inches from his.
"I already told you," she said, reaching across the bench to where a tumbler of scotch sat at his elbow and dragging it towards her. "I'm keeping you company on a hot Saturday night."
She took a sip from his glass, trying her hardest not to sputter at the burning liquid. Lacey would never choke on expensive scotch, and neither would she.
Gold was watching her with a slightly amused expression on his face. Well, at least he hadn't tried to throw her out yet. In all honesty, this was going a bit better than she anticipated.
"Would you like a drink, Miss French?" he asked finally.
Belle nodded her head, happy for the distraction. Gold stood up from his stool and strode over to the cabinet in the back of the office retrieving a bottle and a second glass. He poured her a measure of the amber liquid and then handed it to her with a smirk.
"I suppose this is contributing to the delinquency of a minor," he said, still keeping hold of the glass despite her hand wrapping around it. Her fingers brushed against his causing a shiver to run up her spine at the skin to skin contact. "I really should send you home to your father, Miss French."
Belle tugged gently on the glass until he released it, taking a quick sip. "My father's out gambling away what little money we have. I think a little underage drinking is the least of his worries."
Something like a storm cloud passed over Gold's eyes at her words, but a moment later it was gone.
"So, Miss French, what do you do on a Saturday night when you're not keeping lonely old men company?" he asked, leaning against the work bench next to her. He was close enough that the soft wool of his suit jacket brushed against her bare arm whenever he lifted his tumbler for a drink. The sensation made tiny goose bumps erupt on her flesh.
"Didn't you know?" she asked him playfully. "I'm a girl scout, working on my seniors outreach merit badge."
He placed a hand against his chest in an expression of mock outrage. "You cut me to the quick. I'm not that old, Miss French."
Belle took another sip of her scotch and set the glass down on the work bench, turning to face him. She wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that he thinks she's Lacey that made her bold, but she suddenly felt particularly daring.
With a smile, she reached out and ran her hand down his lapel.
"You said old, not me," she said, wrapping her hand around his lapel and pulling him slightly closer to her. "I happen to find experience to be sexy."
Usually he had several inches on her, despite his short stature. But in her outrageous heels they're almost eye level. Belle hadn't been this close to him since the day he caught her falling from the step ladder. Then, he'd held her against him for a few blessed moments before standing her up straight, dusting himself off and retreating. Now however, he makes no move to step away. She can feel the heat of his body, smell the spicy scent of his cologne. She's close enough that it would take almost no effort at all to lean forward and kiss him. Lacey would do it.
She'd just about worked up the nerve when he spoke suddenly.
"What's this really all about, Miss French?" he asked, leaning his cane against the work bench and settling one hand on the crook of her waist. The feeling of his hand on her body makes it infinitely harder to concentrate on their conversation.
Belle shrugged for what felt like the twentieth time since this began. "It's a slow night. I thought you might be doing something interesting."
She suppressed a gasp when his other hand found her waist and pulled her ever closer to him.
"I'd very much like to do something interesting tonight," he said, and Belle can't help but wonder if he means do her. Was this really happening? Had her Lacey seduction worked so quickly? A horrid thought bloomed in her mind unbidden. What if this wasn't the first situation he'd found himself in with Lacey? Her sister had never mentioned any liaisons with Mr. Gold, and she's positive that's the kind of thing Lacey would brag to her about. But Lacey's sexual history is wide and varied. Is it possible her sister just never told her?
Gold must have sensed her change in mood because he dropped one hand from her waist, moving to collect his cane.
Belle was so close to having exactly what she wanted, and she was about to blow it. Before he could move away from her, she wrapped her right hand around his other lapel and tugged him forward, pressing her lips softly against his.
For one terrifying heartbeat, Belle was afraid she had completely misread the situation. But a moment later Gold had seized onto her hips and deepened the kiss, pulling her flush against him.
Her hands slid up the hard planes of his chest to rest briefly on his shoulders before finding their way home to twine in his hair. She'd spent countless hours dreaming of running her fingers through his graying brown hair. It's even softer than it looked. Gold nipped at her bottom lip causing Belle to let out a rather embarrassing moan. But Gold just took the opportunity to plunder her mouth with his tongue, seeking out all the places that could make her weak kneed.
Belle had a little experience with kissing. She'd dated Gary Aston for two years before dumping him right before senior prom. They had kissed pretty frequently despite Belle having no real feeling for him beyond mild affection, and never going beyond kissing much to Gary's chagrin. Since going to college she'd kissed two more boys. None of them could hold a candle to the way Gold was kissing her now.
She never knew her whole body could feel electric, a tightness in her belly, an increased awareness of the heat between her legs, just from kissing.
She never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. Belle was pretty sure she could come apart just from the way Gold's tongue was tracing the roof of her mouth.
He pulled away after a moment, leaving both of them gasping for breath. She looked up at him to see Lacey's red lipstick smeared against his lips. It was quite possibly the most erotic thing she'd ever seen in her short life.
"Are you alright?" he asked, pushing a rogue curl that had slipped out of her bun behind her ear.
Belle could do little more than nod, feeling like all the breath had been sucked from her by one fantastic kiss.
"Good," he replied, before pulling her close and kissing her once again. One of his hands snaked around her waist, holding her to him while the other plunged into her hair, pulling at the bobby pins keeping it up. A few moments later, her curls were free about her shoulders as Gold ran his hand through them. She vaguely wished she hadn't used as much hairspray, anticipating the rats nest her hair would soon resemble.
He broke the kiss once more turning her quickly so she faced the work bench and pressing in close behind her. Pushing her hair out of the way, he trailed fiery kisses down her throat, continuing down her exposed back. He kissed and licked along the line of her spine until Belle was positively shaking, her fingers digging into the wood of the work bench as she clung to it for dear life.
Making his way back up to her neck, he gently bit into the soft skin where her neck and shoulder met, laving over the bite mark with his tongue. Belle let out a throaty little moan at that, causing Gold's hips to cant forward against her backside. She could feel the hard length of him against her back, and suddenly this was all so real. She felt a flicker of something like pride at being the cause of his erection. He wanted her, really and truly. Even if he thought she was Lacey, it was still her body giving him pleasure. She was here, in the pawnshop being ravished by Mr. Gold. It was every one of her fantasies come to life.
His hand which had been splayed against her flat stomach, began to move lower. When he reached the button on her shorts, he paused, kissing the shell of her ear.
"Is this what you want?" he asked, raggedly.
Belle only had to think for half a second before she was nodding vigorously. "Yes - please."
He kissed her temple, "Tell me if you want me to stop."
And then he was undoing the button and fly on Lacey's tiny denim shorts before plunging his hand down the front of her knickers.
He parted her folds with his fingers, dipping one inside her and spreading the moisture he found there to her outer lips.
"God, you're so wet, sweetheart," he moaned against her hair.
His fingers traced her sex, teasing her but not giving her any friction where she desperately needed relief. Her hips moved of their own volition, grinding against his hand trying to force him to touch her where she wanted him most. By the time he relented, Belle was panting with desire, her body trembling with want. He stroked his thumb against her clit sending shockwaves throughout her whole body. She arched her back, pressing her bottom against his erection, and he bit down on her shoulder to stifle his own groan. A few flicks of his thumb combined with the feeling of his fingers stroking in and out of her had her coming apart in mere minutes.
Belle bit her lip trying to stifle the sound of her orgasm. Gold brought a hand to her mouth, pulling her lip from where it was clenched between her teeth.
"There's no need for that," he whispered against her ear. "I want to hear you when you come, darling."
The sound of his voice, his accent even thicker than usual almost had her coming again.
He continued to stroke her as she came down from her high, planting gentle kisses against the side of her face. Then he was spinning her around to face him again, capturing her lips and massaging her tongue with his. Belle thought if this ended right now and she never saw Gold again, she would still die a happy woman. This exceeded any fantasy she'd ever had, the memory would keep her warm at night for years to come.
But he didn't seem to be done with her just yet. With surprising strength, Gold seized her by the backs of her thighs and lifted her on to the work bench. Belle let out a surprised squeal at his sudden action and he chuckled against her neck. He stood between her legs, wrapping his arms around her waist as he kissed her neck, trailing lower across her collar bone.
Belle never knew her collar bone could be an erogenous zone, but the way Gold was licking and nipping at her skin had her pressing her body against him, seeking relief again already.
A moment later he stepped back and Belle let out a whimper at the loss of contact. His eyes were dark, almost black, as they fell from her face down to her chest. He fingered the hem of her shirt, a question in his hooded eyes.
Before she could rethink things, Belle had seized the bottom of her top and pulled it over her head, casting it to the ground at their feet.
She felt, rather than heard, Gold's sharp intake of breath at the sight of her half naked. She was wearing a lacy blue bra, nicked from her sister, that increased her meager breasts an entire cup size. She rather thought Gold would be disappointed if he took it off.
One of his hands came up to cup her breast almost hesitantly, massaging her flesh through the fabric of her bra. A second later, his lips had returned to neck, trailing down across her chest and nipping at the rounded tops of her breasts. Belle was so lost in the sensation that she didn't even realize he'd unhooked her bra until he pulled back to slide it down her arms.
She fought the impulse to cover her chest with her arms, knowing Lacey would have no such reservations about baring herself for a man. But she wasn't Lacey. She was Belle, and the words slipped out before she could stop them.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I know it's not much."
Gold was looking at her as if she were insane.
"You're perfect, sweetheart," he said, kissing her lightly. "Absolutely breathtaking."
Belle couldn't help but smile at his compliment. She'd often been told in her life that she was beautiful, that her name suited her. But tonight, she felt beautiful.
Then his head dipped to take her nipple into his mouth and all conscious thought flitted out of Belle's head. He gently suckled her, his hand coming up to mimic his mouth at her other breast, and Belle plunged her fingers into his hair, holding him to her. He worshipped her breasts until she was crying out, shunting her hips against him in an effort to gain friction at her core. When he finally drew back from her, she was panting, sprawled out on Gold's work bench half naked like a wanton. She'd never felt so alive.
She also realized Mr. Gold was still impeccably dressed, despite the lipstick smears and mussed hair. She reached out, pulling at his tie impatiently until he helped her loosen it and pull it over his head. Next she attacked the buttons of his waist coat, pushing it and his jacket from his shoulders where they landed on the ground with a heavy thump. Mr. Gold was still dressed in his trousers and shirt sleeves, but she felt like she was seeing a private part of him. She'd never seen him without a tie before. It felt intimate, like he was shedding his armor just for her.
Before she could get more than half of his shirt buttons undone, he pulled back, hands on the waist band of her shorts. Understanding that he wanted them off, she lifted her hips so he could slide them down her legs, followed by the tiny scrap of fabric she called underwear.
And just like that she was completely naked in front of a man for the first time. She could feel goose flesh rising on her arms at the way Mr. Gold was looking at her, as though he wanted to devour her whole. For the first time since this had started, she wondered if she had perhaps bitten off more than she could chew. She was a virgin, but he didn't know that. Would he be too rough with her? But she couldn't come clean now. He'd know she wasn't Lacey, and she'd never be able to face him again.
Movement interrupted her thoughts as Gold pulled his stool over and sat down between her legs. For a moment she had no idea what he was doing, but then he ran his hands up over her thighs, kissing her knee gently and slowly working his way up, and it all became clear.
She'd heard about this, of course. Lacey had informed her it was the best thing in the world, but that men didn't really like to do it. With that information in mind, she reached a hand forward to stop him.
"You don't have to do that," she said.
His eyes found hers and she gasped at the intensity she saw burning from his chocolate brown eyes.
"Oh, I want to," he said, spreading her legs further and nipping gently and the skin of her inner thigh.
Belle didn't protest again, but her legs began to shake as he drew ever closer to her core. It was maddening. He was taking his sweet time running his tongue along her thigh, nipping at the place where her leg met her hip, neatly circumventing where she wanted him to be and planting kisses along her lower belly.
She let out an involuntary whimper and shunted her hips forward.
Gold chuckled softly. "Impatient, sweetheart?" he asked. "Very well."
And then his tongue was on her. There. And she'd never felt anything so amazing in her entire life.
She let out a moan, falling back against the bench as he pulled her closer to him, placing her legs up over his shoulders. He continued licking and kissing her until she was so tense she was vibrating beneath him. She cried out when he plunged two fingers inside her, sucking her clit into his mouth and laving his tongue over it. Her back arched off the desk and she felt for sure she was going to spontaneously combust at any moment. No person could withstand this much pleasure. She was sure to supernova, shatter into a million tiny pieces. Then his fingers crooked inside her, touching someplace earth shattering. The pressure of his mouth against her clit, his fingers moving within her, was all too much and she came hard, stars bursting behind her eyelids, her inner muscles clenching hard around his fingers as she called out prayers and curses and babbling nonsense.
He continued planting kisses on her oversensitive flesh as she spiraled down from her high, her panting breaths returning to normal. When he finally pulled away, she grabbed him by the shirt collar, pulling him up to kiss her and groaning when she tasted herself on his lips.
"Was that alright then?" he asked smugly, and she would have slapped him if she hadn't been so satisfied. As it was she could do little more than nod.
"Good," she panted out. "Amazing."
"I'm glad," he returned, as he lifted her up off the bench and placed her back on the ground on wobbling legs.
She felt sluggish, her limbs heavy, and she kicked off Lacey's heels and slumped against his chest. He wrapped her up in his arms, kissing the top of her head. It was then that her mind caught up with her and she realized he was still unsatisfied. With a burst of daring, wanting to return the pleasure he had so recently given her, she reached down and cupped him through the fabric of his trousers. He hissed through his teeth and bucked his hips against her hand. He was extremely hard, the heat of him seeping through his pants and surprising her.
He half carried her the few steps to the little cot he kept in the back of the shop and sat her down on it. Then he was pulling at the buttons of his shirt as she reached out and undid his belt. Soon he was down to just his boxers, and Belle drank in the sight like a woman dying of thirst. He was lean, but muscular, his skin several shades darker than her own. She realized with a thrill he was exactly the right size to fit against her. Then he pulled down his boxers and she realized this was never going to work.
She knew, biologically, it was possible. But staring at his engorged length, she had no idea how it would ever fit within her body.
But Belle had always been curious, and this was a learning experience just like any other. Tentatively she reached out and touched him, running her fingers lightly up his shaft. Gold's eyes slammed shut and he suppressed a groan, so Belle grew a little bolder. She wrapped one hand around the base of him, stroking upward, enjoying the weight of him in her hand and the hot, silky feel of his skin.
She attempted to stroke him again, but his hand came up to grab hers, holding her still.
"I can't last - if you do that," he said haltingly.
Belle smiled and attempted another experimental tug, interested to see what would happen.
He moved faster than any man with a bum ankle had a right to, pinning her to the bed as he groaned out, "Minx!"
Belle giggled until he settled himself between her legs, his cock brushing against her core. Then her laugh turned to a needy little moan.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked her, his expression turning serious. "We don't have to if you don't want to."
He was giving her an out, and that alone made her want to give herself to him. When she had dated Gary he had frequently tried to guilt her into bed with him, feeling like she owed him some part of her body. But here, now, she had no doubt Mr. Gold would let her leave without a word.
Her nervousness was giving way to excitement. If he could make her feel that good with his mouth and fingers, what could his cock do?
She brushed the hair back from his face and nodded.
"I'm sure," she breathed. "I want this."
Gold groaned, kissing her hungrily. Then he pulled back. "Condom?" he asked.
Belle pointed to her shorts on the ground near them. "In my pocket."
He gave her a dirty little look before moving to grab the condom, tearing open the package and rolling it onto himself. Then he was back between her legs, lining them up before slowly pushing in to her.
Belle was ready for him, their foreplay more than preparing her, but she had to fight the urge to resist him. It was still an odd sensation, being stretched in ways she never had before. It didn't hurt, but there was an uncomfortable pressure for a moment before he was finally sheathed within her.
"Oh God," he moaned against her ear. "You're so fucking tight."
She'd never heard Mr. Gold curse before, and hearing the word from his lips gave her an extra little thrill.
"Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked, pushing a sweaty lock of hair back from her face. Belle just smiled and nodded at him, bringing her legs up to wrap around his waist.
Her movement caused him to sink even deeper into her and they both let out a moan. Then Gold was moving within her, setting a slow, gentle pace.
Belle wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close as he buried his face against her neck. She wasn't a virgin anymore, she'd finally done something unexpected. She'd seduced Mr. Gold, had his cock buried inside her. She was grinning like a madwoman.
Then his cock brushed against someplace magical and she was throwing her head back as he worked her back up to that peak.
His thrusts were growing harder and faster as they continued, his mouth meeting hers in a sloppy kiss. She was gripping on to his sweat slicked back, her body growing tense once more. Then, suddenly, she was breaking apart again, this time sharper and more intense. She bit down onto his shoulder, feeling herself tighten and clench around him.
He had lost all sense of rhythm, thrusting into her erratically. Then he tensed and stilled, finally slumping against her.
After a moment, he rolled off her, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her forehead. Belle felt warm and comfortable curled up against him and drifted off to sleep.
When she awoke, she was alone with a blanket pulled up over her. She couldn't have been asleep long as it was still night behind the curtained shop windows. Sitting up, she saw Gold, barefoot and dressed only in his trousers, on the other side of the office heating a kettle on a hot plate.
"Tea?" he asked when he noticed she was awake.
Belle nodded with a sleepy smile. "I'd love some."
Her voice sounded rough and hoarse from the screaming and moaning she'd done. She sounded like Lacey, she thought with a smirk.
She wrapped the blanket around herself and walked over to Gold, coming up behind him and kissing his shoulder.
"What time is it?" she asked, leaning her head against his back.
"Around half past one," he answered, turning to hand her a cup of Earl Grey. "You were out for a few hours."
Belle accepted the tea cup with a smile. "You must have tuckered me out," she said with her best lascivious grin.
"I aim to please," he returned, picking up his own tea cup. Belle realized with a start that it was the chipped one, part of the antique set she had damaged her first week on the job. She'd thought he would fire her, but he'd merely shrugged it off and set her to another task not handling anything breakable. Why would he keep it, let alone use it?
"Your cup has a chip," she pointed out rather uselessly.
"Yes it does, Miss French," he replied with an enigmatic smile.
They drank their tea in relative silence, though it wasn't awkward so much as comfortable. When she'd finished her drink, she went to collect her clothes with a sigh. She needed to get home. Her father was probably back and Lacey would be home soon barring a bar hookup. If she wanted to return her sister's things without any questions, she'd have to leave now.
"It's late," she said. "I should be going."
"As you wish."
He picked up his cane and stalked forward into the main shop, leaving her to dress in private.
A moment later she joined him there, back in her Lacey armor. For a moment there, during their coupling, she'd forgotten she was supposed to be playing someone else. She'd felt like Gold was making love to her, Belle. But he wasn't. She couldn't let herself forget that.
"Well, I'll see you later, Mr. Gold," she said heading for the front door. She suddenly felt sad leaving him. The next time she saw him she'd be Belle again. It would be like none of this had ever happened.
"I'll see you on Monday, Belle," he called after her.
Belle spun around so quickly, she almost toppled off her heels. Only Mr. Gold's steadying hand on her elbow kept her from falling over. Her stunned expression must have given her away because he continued.
"Did you honestly think I couldn't tell you apart from your sister, sweetheart?" He tucked an errant curl behind her ear before leaning forward, breath ghosting across the shell of her ear. "I'd know you anywhere," he whispered. "No matter how much makeup or how little clothing you wear, you'll always be my sweet little Belle."
Belle felt like her face was burning. Half of her wanted to melt into the floor never to be seen again and the other half wanted to drag him back to the office and relieve the heat that was already pooling again between her thighs. She settled for leaning forward and pressing a hasty kiss to his lips before veritably running out the door of the shop as fast as her heels would carry her, leaving a bemused Mr. Gold in her wake.
Her whole walk home only one thought flooded her mind. He knew! Oh God, he knew!