Ties of the Heart
by misscam

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my words.

Author's Note: For operaballerina, who wanted some Snow/Charming bondage, so here they are, tying each other up. Happy belated birthday, babe! This is in two parts, one for Charming and one for Snow, since I do enjoy the equality of their relationship – so fair's fair.

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Part One: Charming

II

The few times Charming has found himself tied up or chained up before in his life have always been moments of great danger, sometimes near fatal in fact.

But that was before. This is now. This is his bed, and his headboard that his arms are securely fastened to behind his head. This isn't capture by enemy forces, this is capture by his own wife. (Granted, he is a willing prisoner.) And the danger – the danger might be to his mental stability as Snow straddles him firmly after having checked the knots on her scarves that she's tied him up with.

She smiles at him and he can only watch how the slip she is wearing clings to her curves in a way he wishes his hands could do right now. It's maddening. It doesn't help that she has removed all his clothes except his underwear, and he's now tied up and almost naked and completely at her mercy.

"This isn't quite what I had in mind," he says, swallowing as she places her hands to his chest to steady herself and scrape her nails across his skin at the same time.

"What did you have in mind, Charming?" she asks lightly, the mischievous look in her eyes making him want to kiss her quite badly. Yet he can't reach for her to pull her down for a kiss, or sit up to kiss her where she is.

He might actually prefer the fatal danger, he's starting to think.

"When I said I trusted you completely..."

"After you had been an overprotective idiot," she cuts in.

"Yes," he acknowledges. And he knows it isn't much of a defense that he can't help it where she is concerned, but it is really the only one he has. "After I had been the husband who loves his wife to the point of idiocy and overprotectiveness, yes. But when I said I trusted you completely and was willing to put myself at your mercy, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"You had in mind some heroic adventure where we'd both be in danger?" she suggests, leaning down to kiss his chest just above his heart.

"Something like that," he says, letting his head fall back against the pillow as she continues kissing a path across his chest.

"We have those all the time anyway," she murmurs, before moving her mouth up to suck lightly on the spot where his shoulder and his neck meet.

"Yes," he acknowledges again, his head turning toward hers instinctively. He wants to kiss her. He really, really wants to kiss her, but he can't. "As I recall, you've been..."

He moans; he can't help it. Her fingers are tracing patterns on his chest and her teeth are lightly scraping his skin before sucking again, and he can do nothing but endure.

"You've been an overprotective idiot concerning me quite a few times we've had adventures," he manages to get out in a rush before moaning softly again.

"Mmm," she says, lifting her head to look at him through lowered eyelids. "Maybe you'll get to tie me up if that ever happens again, then."

Before he can say anything at that (like swearing he'll hold her to that promise), she leans down and kisses him. He meets it as much as his restraints allow, feeling her lips be soft against his. She allows him to tug and then suck lightly at her bottom lip, even moaning at it. He really, really wishes he had his hands free so he could cup her cheek or press her even closer, but he takes what comfort he can get in the pressure of her lips against his.

The cloth of her slip brushes against his bare chest as she rests on top of him and he imagines the sensation of her skin doing the same. He knows what it feels like, after all; he's experienced it many times before. It doesn't stop him from longing for it now, it just makes the longing more so, in fact.

He pulls at his restraints in frustration as she sits up and breaks the kiss. He can see the faint moisture of his mouth cling to her lower lip, and her lips are slightly parted as she breathes. To his credit, her breathing is definitely more labored.

"Snow, please," he says in frustration.

"No," she says simply and he groans. He groans again as she moves off him, the loss of contact increasing his frustration. (Which is already substantial.) She pays him no heed, instead closing her fingers around the cloth of his underwear. Slowly, tantalizingly slowly she pulls down it down, then tosses it without a care into the dark of the room.

For all his frustration he has to admit this is rather turning him on too, seeing Snow like this. He's always loved the strength in her, the commanding presence she can have, and her willingness to fight for what she wants. Now she wants him, and he swallows again. His mouth feels dry as she regards him, a speculative look in her eyes.

She puts a hand on his knee, caressing his skin lightly with her thumb as he watches her helplessly. Then she uses the hand to move his legs apart and sits down between them. His breath quickens as he realizes what she has in mind, and she glances up at him with dark eyes that make his breath catch as well.

"Snow," he pleads, not sure exactly what he's asking for.

Her hand closes on his manhood and his hips move of their own volition, thrusting into the touch. Her mother hand settles on his waist to steady him, and she flashes him a quick smile that makes him even more maddeningly in love with her. He balls his fists and presses his fingers hard into his palms, but it still doesn't stop him from making a noise as she draws a hand across the length of him.

The sensation as she takes him in her mouth is as always indescribable, even if he's had experience with it before. He moans her name helplessly, his head falling back and his eyes closing. He can't help it; he's entirely at her mercy in more ways than one.

Her mouth is warm, so very warm on his flesh. He can feel her tongue as well, adding to the torture. He bucks as she trails her mouth up and down the hardening length of him, and bites down on his lip hard enough to taste blood as she takes him in his mouth again – this time as far as she can manage.

He fights his restraints again, even knowing that it's pointless. He has to do something or he'll go mad. Her hand is pumping him lightly as well, as her tongue circles his flesh and he thinks he might very well go mad.

"Snow," he pleads, hearing the desperation and lust in his own voice quite clearly. "Snow, please, please... Snow."

She lifts her head as he opens his eyes to look at her again, but she keeps her hand on him and moving it up and down slowly.

"What do you want, Charming?" she says softly.

"You," he manages, his voice husky. Always her. He always wants her and will for eternity. She knows that; he can see it in her eyes. "Please, Snow."

She nods almost regally, lifting herself up off the mattress. He can only watch as she efficiently tears the slip off herself in one smooth motion. She is wearing nothing else, he notes, swallowing softly. Just Snow and skin and he can't touch, can only gaze at her naked skin with equal amount of pleasure and frustration.

She moves forward, positioning herself with a knee on either side of him. She strokes him one more time as she adjusts his position slightly too, and he can feel himself twitch slightly in anticipation. Then she sinks down on him, sighing softly as she does. The noise he makes is far more undignified, but the sensation of it is so good and so familiar he can't help it. Snow, oh Snow, everything he wants and everything he can never get enough of at the same time.

She holds still as he breathes. He can see the flush in her cheeks and the hazy desire in her eyes, but she still doesn't move. He strains against the scarves keeping him tied up, but Snow knows very well what she is doing with knots, he realizes.

"Snow," he pleads again. "Please let me loose, let me... I need to touch you, I need to..."

She clenches her muscles around him in response and he curses, lifting himself as far as the restraints allow.

"Snow," he says breathlessly. He thrusts his hips against her and she does moan at the friction, but she continues to remain still. "Please."

Just when he thinks he's going to go genuinely mad instead of just mad for Snow, she moves. Her eyes close as she lifts herself up, then sinks down again. Her face is bright with pleasure, and her lips part as she makes a series of noises that causes his pleasure and frustration alike to mount.

"Snow," he gasps and she focuses on him. "I want to touch you."

"Here?" she asks, lowering her own hand between them. He can only watch as she touches herself, panting a little as she does.

"Yes," he says helplessly. His nails feel sharp as they dig further into his palms. "I want to... There, and everywhere else, Snow, please, please let me touch you."

She leans down, her breasts brushing his chest as she moves her hands to his hands. For a moment he thinks she is actually going to free him, but no. She merely traces his arms with her palm, feeling the tension and strain in them.

"Snow," he says again, helplessly. She kisses him then, parting her lips and letting him have her mouth while she moves lightly. He thrusts in return as much as he can, feeling the reward of her soft moans and gasps into his kiss. The angle of this position seems to give her pleasure, at least, as she keeps moving. He does as much as he can with the kiss too, sucking at her bottom lip and brushing his tongue against hers, and changing between encasing her mouth with his and pressing light kisses along her lips before deepening it again. He changes the angle every so often too, at least as much as he can.

"Charming," she whispers against his lips, her breath ragged. "What do you want?"

He wants to draw his hands along the arch in her back, wants to lower his mouth to her breasts, wants to press her into the mattress and thrust into her in long, languid strokes, wants lock her hands above her head with one hand and use the other to caress her between their bodies, wants, wants, wants... He wants so much and he doesn't have the breath to say it all, he knows.

"Untie me," he murmurs hoarsely, kissing the heat in her cheeks. "I want you."

"Do you?" she teases, and he bucks his hips underneath her to show her that yes, he wants her to the point of desperation.

"Snow," he moans softly and she licks her lips slightly. "Snow, please..."

"I have you," she says possessively. She sure does, he knows. She doesn't have to tie him up in bed to have him tied to her. He's held by her by something far stronger than scarves – the ties between hearts. The strongest tie in the world.

"You have me," he acknowledges. At that, she clenches her muscles around him again, and he feels dizzy with the desire and the pleasure and the frustration, all mingled and fighting and feeding into each other. "Snow."

She loves how he says her name like that, he can tell from how her lips part and he takes the opportunity to kiss her again. She moves again, using her own hand where he would as well, and then amazingly he can feel her body shudder as she climaxes. That is enough to push him over too, and his head falls backwards as he feels everything and nothing all at once.

She nestles against him as they both draw slow, shuddering breaths. He turns his head so that it is close to hers, feeling her breath across his skin. Even with the orgasm he just had, that still sparks a touch of desire in him.

"Now will you untie me?" he asks softly, as she rubs her nose against his affectionately.

"Can't," she murmurs, putting her thumb on his lip before he can protest. "I tied the knots too well. I'll have to cut you free."

How just like Snow, he thinks. So he chuckles at that, and she laughs, and he thinks it the loveliest sound in the world. She kisses him softly and apologetically before pushing herself off the bed, and he gets to watch her walk naked and unashamed through their chamber. He rather enjoys that sight, already planning what to do to every single inch of her skin the moment he can.

She finds a dagger in one of her boots (it's Snow, so he's not surprised), walking back to the bed and sitting down on the side of it. She regards him as he looks at her, and this time it is she who swallows at the look in his eyes.

"What are you going to do once I cut you loose?" she asks, biting down on her lower lip in that way she does. It's going to be his teeth doing that soon, he decides.

"Touch you," he says huskily. "Kiss you. Make love to you."

"Not tie me up?"

"No," he says, and he isn't sure if the look flashing across her face is relief or disappointment. "Not this time. It will be after you've been an overprotective idiot concerning me. I'll hold you to that."

"Oh," she says breathlessly, then lifts the dagger and mercifully cuts him free. The moment the restraints are gone, she places the dagger on the night stand and he pulls her against him. Before she can say anything, he is kissing her and flipping her underneath him. His hands eagerly roam her body as he presses her into the mattress, finally touching what he could only look at before.

"That was cruel, Snow," he says affectionately. Her lips curve into a teasing smile, one that becomes her very well but he still can't wait to kiss off her. "One day you'll know just how cruel."

"Is that a promise, Charming?" she asks, her lips parting soundlessly as he lowers his hand and cups his palm against her.

"Count on it," he says firmly, watching her face flush with pleasure again. "Now, about what I want..."

"Yes?" she gasps, arching into him as much as she can.

"I'm going to have to show you," he says, dipping his head down and kissing her lazily. Yes. He's very definitely going to have to show her, and take his time doing so as well.

As for tying her up and getting even, that will wait until she acts of much as an overprotective idiot as he did today – he knows it will happen sooner or later. And then, then she'll learn. Oh, she'll learn.

He is rather looking forward to teaching her, in fact.

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