"Miss Roseman?"
Belle twirled around on the step ladder, wobbling slightly in surprise and gripping onto the bookshelf to steady herself while the little boy stepped backwards in alarm. After a few seconds she managed to regain her footing and descended the couple of steps to the ground, holding a small pile of books in the crook of her arm and smiling warmly down at him. "Lionel, you startled me. What's up?"
"Could you show me where the Narnia books are?"
Belle smirked down at the boy as she walked past him, slowing her stride so that he could keep up with her. "You're here every weekend, Lionel. I'd have thought you knew where every book ever was by now."
"Not all of them," Lionel intoned with the air of one stating the obvious. "Besides, I like talking to you," he added shyly.
"You do?" Belle exclaimed, hand over her heart in mock surprise. "Well I like talking to you , too. You're the only other person I know who likes Goosebumps."
They had entered the section of the library designated for children's books, the boy's cheeks still flushed red with pleasure from Belle's compliment. This was Belle's favorite section of the library. The walls had been painted a bright, buttery yellow and there were murals of fairytale characters painted along the border of the room. Enormous windows let in natural light that gave the entire space a soft glow unobtainable by the harsh fluorescents found in the majority of the library's rooms. Belle led Lionel to one of the shelves and pointed to a row near the bottom.
"All the Narnia books you could want, for your reading pleasure."
"Thanks!"
Belle smiled at him and ruffled his hair affectionately before turning to go back to the shelf she had been organizing. She stopped when she noticed someone was standing at the main counter, leaning against an ornate cane and seemingly waiting for assistance. Mr. Gold, she thought darkly before forcing herself to walk towards him.
"Can I help you?" she approached the counter slowly, shifting the books so that they were held in front of her chest.
Mr. Gold tilted his face towards her, the corner of his lip pulled up into a half smile. His teeth were perfectly white, save for the one gold tooth just distinguishable, and the corners of his eyes crinkled. "Hello, Miss Roseman. How are you today?"
"Very well, thank you." Belle walked around the counter so that she could politely face him from as far a distance as possible. She did not encourage more small talk, merely gazing at him with neutrality bordering on indifference as she waited for him to state his business. This coldness did not dissuade his cheer; if anything he seemed to become happier.
"I was just stopping by to make sure that my donation to the library has been satisfactorily established."
"I'm afraid Mrs. Obolensky is not here today and I don't have access to her records to check."
"No matter then, dear, no matter." Mr. Gold moved as if to walk away but then stopped, watching Belle's face. "Say, are you going to the Gala tonight, Miss Roseman?"
And there it is, Belle thought bitterly. Of course that's why he'd come by here. The city's annual Christmas Gala, held in town hall's ballroom and generally viewed as the one time a year where the townsfolk could dress in their finest and let loose their inner snobbery. "Yes," she said curtly, not wanting to be caught outright lying to him but at the same time wanting to make perfectly clear she would not play along.
"And do you have an escort?" His smile was charming, Belle was willing to admit that much. She could see how so many others had fallen prey but was glad never to have counted herself amongst them.
"I was planning to go with Audrey, actually."
"Now that would be a pity, such a pretty thing like you without a man's arm to cling to." Mr. Gold leaned his weight against the cane in his gloved hand, head tilted as he watched interestedly to the flush Belle knew was slowly creeping into her cheeks.
"Unlike other girls in this place, I don't need a man," Belle replied through gritted teeth, gripping the books tightly to her chest and wishing more than anything that Mr. Gold would turn his attention elsewhere. She couldn't be so rude as to throw him out of a public library for teasing her, but she found herself wishing desperately she could walk away from the counter and into the back room.
"I'll give you that, Miss Roseman; you most definitely are not like other women in this town." His eyes fastened on the books now clutched so tightly in Belle's arms that her knuckles had become white. "Am I upsetting you, dearie?"
Chewing her lip to keep the bitter retort racing through her mind from lashing out, Belle took a deep breath to ease her nerves before managing to put a horribly false smile on her face. "Not at all, Mr. Gold. It's just sad that you seem to have run through all of the town girls so fast that I seem to be the only one left."
"I see," he murmured, his amusement with her display of nerve apparent. "You seem to be nursing a sore spot when it comes to me, Miss Roseman. Dare I ask how I came to achieve such a special place in your esteem?"
Belle had always prided herself on being level-headed. An outburst of rage was a rare occurrence with her temperament, so much so that she could truthfully not remember the last time she had raised her voice to anyone even a little. Yet as her gaze took in the smug expression on the man's face before her, Belle found herself fighting the urge to give in to the sudden need to lash out.
"As a matter of fact, yes," she whispered furiously. "In case you've forgotten, Audrey Mason is one of my best friends and I know for a fact that after you seduced her," Belle coated the word with as much scorn as she could without attracting attention, "you not only never called her back but pretended like it had never happened!"
Breathing heavily, Belle hated herself for giving in to the emotion but she could not help herself. She had spent her entire life setting a standard of chivalry that she thought most men must have followed, only to find out through the experiences taking place amongst those around her that happy endings were nothing more than endings to fairy tales.
For as long as Belle could remember she had found Mr. Gold appealing: he had always held doors open for her and inquired after her day, and when he smiled at her she had always felt her heart squeeze painfully in her chest and her skin flush with warmth. Then the stories had begun to reach her, each one slashing at her heart like a dagger. First one girl she knew and then another, and then finally Audrey had confessed to her that she'd given in to Mr. Gold, leaving Belle to watch her friend cry after he had lost interest and ignore the pangs of jealousy and hurt that wounded her own heart.
These thoughts passed through Belle's mind within the span of no more than a few seconds, and Mr. Gold's expression hadn't changed in the slightest. Instead he leaned across the counter towards her. She could smell his cologne; it was subtle yet somehow intoxicating to Belle, who gripped the books to her chest like a life preserver. Even knowing it was impossible—Mr. Gold was not a mind reader—she suddenly had the horrifying thought that he had somehow stared into her eyes and been able to tell exactly where her train of thoughts had just led.
"You seem to be clutching those books awfully tight, Miss Roseman. Are you sure there is nothing else you want to say? Surely that can't be the reason for all of your vehemence, not when Audrey Mason spoke so disparagingly towards you herself."
"What?" the word of surprise slid out of her lips before Belle could remember that she was furious with him. He had caught her completely off-guard, which no doubt had been his intent. "What do you mean?"
"Normally I don't go about repeating pillow talk, but I wouldn't want you to think yourself with any real obligation to defend someone such as her. She told me things. Things about you that I am quite certain you'd never have wanted her to tell." His eyes bored into Belle's and she knew a rush of heat throughout her body before the wall of panic struck.
Audrey wouldn't… she wouldn't tell him that even if she knew, Belle pleaded to herself, praying for some revelation to strike. None came other than remembering that night the year prior when Audrey had texted her, begging her to come over. Belle had then had to endure her friend in tears, confessing that she had slept with Mr. Gold and that he wouldn't speak to her anymore, then she had cried so pitifully against Belle's shoulder that Belle could only pat her head sympathetically as nausea rolled over her in waves. Not until now had the idea occurred to her that Audrey might have guessed at the cause for Belle's preoccupation with the town antique dealer, and the oftentimes cruel jokes her best friend had loved to play on her may have reached new depths.
Could it be true? Could Audrey have slept with Mr. Gold, knowing it would hurt Belle?
"I can see in your eyes that you know I speak the truth," Mr. Gold said heavily. Belle could not bring herself to meet his eye—she was too mortified, wondering what he knew, or perhaps guessed, about Belle's own feelings. "As I said, I don't kiss and tell, but that girl is not your friend. Despite my faults, I do not treat cruelly those who don't deserve to be." He hesitated and Belle fought with every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep her lip from trembling. "I hope to see you tonight then, Miss Roseman."
Belle remained rooted to the spot, her eyes focused intently upon the wooden counter until she heard the heavy front doors open and close once more. She risked a glance upwards and verified that he was in fact gone before half-running towards the employee break room through the door on the wall directly behind the front desk. She shut and locked the door, pressing herself against it and letting the panicked breaths come and go in short, quick bursts.
Audrey had lied to her, then. She had sworn Mr. Gold seduced her and then abandoned her, and Belle had been idiot enough to believe the sob story. Her father had often told her that Audrey was not to be trusted, that she delighted in Belle's misfortune, but Belle had always done so anyway. Her ability to trust blindly had always been her pride and her curse, and with the realization that her best friend had slept with the man she knew Belle had always pined for, Belle was shocked to find that no tears came. No, she wouldn't cry. What would be the point in tears? What's done is done, Belle told herself firmly.
A vibration against Belle's thigh startled her, and it took a second to realize that someone was calling her cell. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and gazed at the person calling in stunned disbelief for a moment before she slid the "answer" icon across the screen and raised the device to her ear.
"Hello Audrey."
"Hey girl! How's work?"
"Fine," Belle responded automatically.
"Are you okay? You sound weird."
"I've just been reading 'Wuthering Heights'," she lied easily.
"Oh God. Belle you know you get sappy when you read Brontë, why do you do that to yourself?"
I must be a masochist, Belle thought. "I love Heathcliff," she said aloud.
Audrey huffed impatiently on the other end before rushing ahead. "Anyway, I was wondering if I could borrow your red heels to wear with my black mini dress tonight."
"Of course," Belle replied in an attempt to sound her usual self. She did not feel like confronting Audrey, not yet.
"Fantastic, thanks! I'll pick you up at seven, then?"
"See you then," Belle finished and ended the phone call, closing her eyes. She would not let herself be the victim. It's not as if Mr. Gold nor Audrey had done her any true wrong. They were both consenting adults and Audrey had seemed genuinely upset when she'd gone over to comfort her. As for Mr. Gold, what did it matter to him if some librarian had a crush? It didn't matter at all.
No, Belle thought as she finally set the books down and ran trembling fingers through her hair. I'm going to go to the Gala tonight and find someone myself. It's about time I lost my v-card. Then she was laughing at the vulgarity of her own thoughts, wondering as she clocked out who she might find to rid her of this suddenly unwelcome burden.
Seven o'clock came and with it, a furious knocking on Belle's front door.
"Just a minute!" she called out, sliding her feet into her gold heels before hurrying to the door to unlock it.
In rushed a barefoot Audrey, who wordlessly snatched the red stilettos from Belle and slid them on her feet before turning this way in that in front of Belle's living room mirror to study her appearance. Before that afternoon Belle might have found herself envious of her friend's modern beauty: her hair was long, pin-straight and jet black, with icy blue eyes and long, elegant legs that seemed to go for miles beneath an impossibly tight, off the shoulder mini black dress. All Belle could envision were Mr. Gold's hands on those perfectly toned thighs, and the smile on Belle's face became remarkably forced.
"How do I look?" Audrey asked, carelessly tossing a curtain of dark hair over her shoulder.
"Beautiful," answered Belle dryly. She chanced a glance of herself standing next to Audrey in the mirror. She had chosen a loose-fitting, pale green dress that was pulled in around the waist by a gold belt. The material was silky and soft but it hung loosely from her frame, clearly designed in the style of Roman togas. The only hint of sexiness came from the slit running up the right side, reaching just above mid-thigh. Belle felt her beauty diminishing with each moment that passed being so near Audrey's and turned towards the door.
"Let's go," she said, grasping her shimmery golden clutch from her coffee table and leading the way out the front door. She didn't argue when Audrey asked to drive "Just in case", said with a wink, and Belle knew Audrey hoped to find a hook up and have the freedom to drive if need be. Audrey didn't even concern herself with how Belle would get home. Finding she didn't much care either way, she got into the passenger seat of Audrey's car and barely noticed the drive to the town hall.
Well-dressed people were gliding up the front steps in small groups, many stopping to converse and laughing heartily while Audrey and Belle began the ascent. Many people called out in greeting to them both, which Audrey returned earnestly. Belle merely smiled at them, her eyes scanning the crowd as they entered the ball room.
There were hundreds of people milling about, the sound of laughter, music and cries of greeting meshing together to form a buzzing of white noise, reminding Belle of her father's bee hives. Audrey elbowed Belle suddenly, who turned her attention to the direction she was pointing.
Mr. Gold stood some thirty feet away, chatting animatedly with a petite blonde woman Belle only knew by appearance. He was dressed in a suit as always, though for the occasion he'd gone for the striking contrast of a solid black suit with a black vest, under which was a white dress shirt. Belle noticed the expression on Audrey's face as she also drank in his appearance; there was only slightly veiled greed on those beautiful features.
Feeling slightly deadened, Belle turned her attention anywhere but to Mr. Gold. She saw standing nearby her friend Ruby from the diner accompanied by, Belle was pleasantly surprised to see, the therapist Archie Hopper. Belle approached them without letting Audrey know she was leaving, and Ruby waved happily at her with the hand not clinging to Archie's arm.
"Hey Belle! You look beautiful, were you going for Greek goddess?"
"Something like that," Belle managed a half-hearted grin back. "I didn't know you two were together?"
"Ruby asked me out yesterday," Archie gushed, his soft voice barely audible over the growing noise in the ballroom.
"More like I told him to pluck up the courage to ask me," Ruby interjected playfully, kissing him on the cheek. "Same thing, I suppose. Say, isn't that Audrey with Mr. Gold?"
An invisible hand seemed to reach into Belle's stomach and twist her insides when she followed Ruby's gaze. There they stood, the blonde long gone and in her stead was Audrey, who was not even remotely trying to conceal her efforts at flirting. Not wanting to see any more, Belle whipped back around to Archie and Ruby, the latter of whom was staring at Belle with a rather knowing look of sympathy that did nothing to improve her mood.
"Yeah, I suppose it is. See you guys later."
And with that Belle began to push her way through the crowd, finding a strange sort of relief with the anonymity that came from being squished in on all sides by a distracted horde of people. Before she was aware of where she was even headed Belle found herself in front of the bar. A certain recklessness rushed over Belle and she approached one of the bartenders, eyes roaming over the many bottles behind him.
"Hello, I'll take the strongest thing you have."
"I.D., please?" Belle reached into her clutch and pulled it out to show him, feeling a strange sort of independence with the act: she'd never purchased alcohol before. "Strongest we have, eh? How about a brandy?" He pulled out a single glass and dropped three ice cubes inside, then pulled a bottle of some amber-colored liquid and began to pour. "Tell me when."
The recklessness increased. She had no idea how much would be too much but found herself supremely unconcerned and allowed him to fill it three quarters of the way before waving her hand. "That's good, thank you." She pulled the glass into her hands and sniffed, immediately retching from the acrid burn in her nostrils.
"Strong stuff, brandy is."
Belle stiffened at the voice that came from directly behind her. Not deeming to respond immediately, she placed the rim to her lips and swallowed a large mouthful, followed immediately by a splutter as it burned a path down her throat. The fumes seemed to suck the air from her lungs and she coughed rather ungracefully before turning to face Mr. Gold, the glass in her hand giving her a perverse courage.
"Which is exactly what I asked for. Excuse me," she said with as much dignity as she could muster, pushing past him and disappearing into the crowd once again. She could not stop herself from taking sip after sip of the brandy, and after only a few minutes she noticed a noticeable blurring of her vision. Excited at the strange sensation, Belle had drank all but perhaps a quarter of her brandy when a hand reached out of nowhere, gripping her waist.
"Miss Roseman!"
"Doctor—doctor Whale?" Belle squinted up at the man, but his face was swimming in her line of vision and she had only seen the doctor on occasion.
"Wow, you look… You look fantastic," the doctor murmured appreciatively as his eyes roamed up and down her outfit. Belle smiled benignly, flattered by the open admiration on his expression. "Would you care to go for a walk with me?"
"Why, that sounds wonderful," Belle said with a confidence that did not feel entirely her own, accepting his hand as he led her through the crowd. Her heart began to race as she inspected him from behind, taking in his height and broad shoulders, the sandy blond hair. By the time they had emerged from the crowd, Belle had nearly finished her glass of brandy. "Wait!" She double backed towards the bar and acquired another glass from the bartender before allowing the doctor to lead her out of the ballroom.
"How much have you had to drink tonight?" Doctor Whale laughed when Belle stumbled a bit over the hem of her gown and then giggled in a very un-Belle way.
"Just that glass from before. Now this one. You know, alcohol burns when you first drink it but after awhile you don't notice it anymore!"
"Alcohol is great like that: just when you need to stop drinking, it becomes far easier to keep going," he laughed gently before pulling Belle suddenly behind a thick column partially obscured by a red velvet curtain. His hands were around her waist and he lowered his lips to her ear, sending a shiver down Belle's spine. "It's also liquid courage. Tell me, Miss Roseman, are you feeling brave?'
The brandy was interfering with Belle's judgment, she knew, but she'd never been touched by a man before. She would be twenty three in two months' time and she'd never so much as kissed a man. Waiting for chivalry, some Prince Charming to sweep her off of her feet, was as futile as wishing she were a long lost princess. Belle became aware of the doctor's lips on her neck, and she gripped her glass of brandy tightly in her right hand so as not to drop it when her hands began to tremble.
In a flash of blinding light the curtain was yanked sideways. Belle couldn't see over doctor Whale's shoulder, but she could hear the irritation in his voice when asked impatiently, "Do you mind? We're a little busy here."
"Actually I do mind," a lilted voice replied silkily, and Belle felt her insides turn to lead. "You see, this young lady is quite obviously drunk and I happen to know you are a going to take full advantage."
The doctor's laugh was full of scorn. "You are going to chastise me for being a womanizer? Word has it you get around far more than I do, Mr. Gold." Belle vaguely heard the hint of incredulity in the doctor's tone, though her head was swimming so badly that she could barely focus.
"Perhaps so, doctor Whale, but the women who come to me make the decision without alcohol to sway them."
Doctor Whale swore under his breath and stormed away, leaving Belle alone to face Mr. Gold, the glass of brandy still gripped tightly in her hand. She took another deep swig before walking closer to him, poking his chest angrily with her index finger.
"Who do you think you are? You can't just barge in here and interrupt when I'm with someone, do you have any idea how rude that was?"
Mr. Gold's face swam slightly in her vision as he smiled sadly back at her. "I'm afraid it would have been far worse of me to let it continue, Miss Roseman."
A rage unfamiliar to Belle began to broil in the pit of her stomach and she clenched her free fist to her side, shivering with the suppressed fury. "Go back to Audrey and leave me alone!" she burst out before shoving past him, hurrying towards the exit. She could hear the click of his cane as he followed close behind her and then gripped her upper arm, turning her back to face him.
"You're drunk and upset. You will most likely regret any decision you make in this state. Let me drive you home, Belle. Please."
The use of her first name shocked Belle enough to allow him to lead her out of the foyer and towards the front door. When she tried to hold him back so that she could finish her brandy, Mr. Gold took the glass firmly from her grasp and handed it to a waiter. "Hey!" she cried as he then led her down the front steps and towards a valet, who immediately went to get his car. "I wasn't finished with that!"
Though he did not respond vocally, when Belle felt herself swaying on the spot Mr. Gold reached out and gripped her around the waist just in time to support her weight before her knees hit the concrete. Then his black Cadillac was there and he had sat her in the front seat. When he leaned over to buckle her in, Belle could smell that intoxicating scent again and shut her eyes to keep the hot tears that had suddenly formed at bay.
Within seconds her door was shut and he had walked around the front to the driver's side, stepping in wordlessly and pulling away from town hall. Belle turned her face towards the window, pressing her forehead against the cool glass and closing her eyes against the vertigo that suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. She said nothing to Mr. Gold for the entire drive, and he in turn chose not to break the silence either. When they had pulled up to Belle's apartment complex, she opened the car door and attempted to get out but found herself pinned, unable to move. She had just begun to panic when Mr. Gold was suddenly there, unfastening her seatbelt and hoisting her out of her seat.
"Come on," he finally said as he helped walk her through the main door and towards the one with the numbers 104 on it, "let me have your key." Belle wordlessly handed him her clutch and he snapped it open, pushed the key into the doorknob and twisted, pushing it open with his foot before guiding her over the threshold. With one hand Mr. Gold supported her weight as he shut and locked the door again, then tossed her purse on the sofa and lowered her down next to it. She remained there in silence for a few minutes as he went to rummage around in her kitchen.
"Why are you helping me?" she asked quietly, eyes downcast.
"You are drunk and I wanted to make sure you got home safe," he called from her sink as the water turned on. "Is that so shocking to you, Belle?"
"I'd say so, yes."
Mr. Gold limped back towards her and placed the glass of water on the glass coffee table in front of them before sitting next to her on the sofa. He set his cane on the ground and then held out his hand; in his palm were two aspirin. She accepted them wordlessly and swallowed, then drank half the glass of water in one go. "What happened to Audrey?" she blurted out, trying and failing to hide her anger. Belle heard the tiniest of laughs and she turned to face him, horrified, until she realized he wasn't laughing at her.
"Back at the Gala, I expect. I could care less where she is."
Belle stared at the man sitting next to her, her confusion fractionally outweighing her anger. "I saw you two flirting. She hinted that she was going to hook up tonight!"
"And so she might, she did seem quite determined when she approached me. However when I asked her where you were and she told me you went towards the bar, I left to go find you and make sure you were okay."
"You… what? Why?"
"Because I don't want you to be hurt, Belle," Mr. Gold murmured, cupping her chin with his fingers. "I had no idea you had feelings for me until afterwards when Audrey told me. When she boasted how upset you would be I threw her out; rather unceremoniously I might add which, in hindsight, was a mistake. You saw how she then went and told everyone stories about how horrible I was." He managed a small, humorless grin.
Belle's had swam, but not from the alcohol. Time and water had begun to reverse the haze of drunkenness and she found herself able to stare into Mr. Gold's face. She let her eyes take in the shoulder length, brown hair with streaks of grey in it, and the deep, chocolate brown eyes that seemed endless in their wealth of knowledge. Her mouth moved but no sound came out for a few moments and she pulled her face away from his fingers. "I don't know why you think I'd have feelings for you, because I don't."
"Really?" His finger pulled her cheek to look at him again, and his eyes searched hers so intently that Belle had the distinct impression of being x-rayed. There was a ghost of a grin on his face as he stared into what felt like Belle's very soul. "You sure seemed upset at the thought that I might have been with Audrey tonight: enough to resort to the bottle and allow some undeserving creep to have you."
Words utterly failed Belle. She stared at Mr. Gold and felt her heartbeat accelerate as the impact of his words slowly dawned on her. In that moment she decided to set aside her pride, unable to contain the desperate need to be free of the truth.
"I love you," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, but I love you," her voice broke and she lowered her head into her hands, willing the hot tears pooling in her eyes not to fall.
"Belle," Mr. Gold began soothingly, but she couldn't bring herself to hear his refusal. "Belle, please listen to me—" he implored when she stood up, barely noticing that she was not unsteady on her feet anymore.
"I get it, Mr. Gold. You are intelligent and charming, and you have women both frightened of you and desiring you, and you could have your pick of any of them. I don't need you to tell me that you are flattered, that you understand but this is just puppy love and I will find someone someday who will love me. I know how the lines go." She turned back towards him, anguished. "All I ask is that you do me one favor before you leave, and I'll never bother you again."
Mr. Gold was staring at her, transfixed. "And what would that be?"
In response Belle slid onto his lap, the slit in her dress giving her the freedom to straddle him as she pressed her lips to his. She had no experience with the art of kissing but there was enough alcohol lingering in her system to give her the confidence to not care how inept she might be. Mr. Gold's lips parted and his tongue found hers as his hands slid onto her hips. He broke the kiss then, staring intently at her.
"Belle, you've been drinking and you're confused. I'm not sure you really want to do this."
"I know exactly what I want, and it's this." She found his lips again and knew she had won when he groaned tightly and stood up, Belle sliding down his lap to her feet. He took her hand and led her towards the bed, shutting the lights off as he went. Belle's heart thumped frantically in her chest with excitement when he came to her, their lips finding each others' as she clasped her hands behind his neck.
One hand strayed from her hip down to her buttock, which he gave an appreciative squeeze through the silky fabric of her dress. She whimpered at the pressure and reflexively pressed her hips into his, feeling him hard beneath his tuxedo. His other hand snaked around her waist and was soon joined by the other as he deftly unclasped her belt, tossing it to the side before bunching the fabric of the dress at her thighs in his fingers. Agonizingly slowly he pulled it up and over Belle's head so that she stood before him in nothing but her panties.
She found herself immensely grateful that he had had the forethought to turn off the lights. Moonlight streamed in from the window blinds, illuminating them just enough to make out each other's form but with enough darkness to mask any self-consciousness. When his hands ran down from her shoulder and stopped to cup her breasts, Belle moaned. She could feel a heat growing between her legs and pressed herself against him, yearning to feel him as close to her own form as possible.
"Lay down," he muttered in her ear; Belle quivered in anticipation as she hurried to obey him. She watched, enthralled, as he pulled off his tuxedo coat and vest before climbing on top of her, pressing some of his weight into her as his lips found their way across Belle's shoulders and neck, lingering there when she gave a particularly enthusiastic whimper and clutched desperately with her fingers in his hair. When he moved down to her breasts, Belle's eyes closed as his tongue flicked across an erect nipple. His lips enveloped it, sending tiny bolts of lightning shooting through her core. She arched her back into him as he sucked one nipple and rubbed the other, neglected one between his thumb and index finger.
"Please," she whimpered, unsure what exactly she begged for, only knowing that she didn't want his touches to end. "Please," she repeated and shivered when he looked up at her from her breast and released the nipple. He then kissed the under swell of her beast, then her rib cage and worked his way down past her belly before coming to stop at the top of her brown hair. His eyes fastened on hers devilishly and he placed his warm hands on her thighs, inciting a gasp of surprise from Belle's lips as he ran a finger down the length of her opening, tantalizingly close to her heat.
"You're ready for me already," he murmured, teasing her with a gentle rubbing that stopped occasionally to focus on the little mound of sensitive flesh above her opening. She yelled out in earnest when he did this and reached desperately for his hands on her thighs. "Please," she nearly cried, which was all she found herself able to say.
Mr. Gold moved himself so that he was on his knees and elbows above her, staring down at Belle with hungry eyes. "You're sure you want to do this?" His hoarse voice sent another ache deep into her core.
"I want it to be you, please," Belle panted. His lips pressed gently to her forehead and then to her lips, one free hand skillfully sliding her panties down her legs and tossing them on the floor before then unfastening the front of his pants; the other continued to gently rub her opening, tormenting her with the occasional penetration of his finger. Belle thrust her hips against his hand, desperate for more, until he removed his hand and gently replaced her to the bed.
"Relax your hips," Mr. Gold whispered and immediately Belle complied, staring down to watch their bodies when he adjusted her so that her pelvis was flat on the bed and angled slightly upwards. "Look at me." She did as he asked, and they did not look away from her eyes as he reached down and guided himself inside of her.
Belle gasped in pain but did not cry out as he gently pushed into her and then slid out again, kissing her lightly on the cheek as her body slowly began to adjust to him being inside of her. She was acutely aware of the sensation of being filled and stretched beyond what felt a plausible capacity, but found that she enjoyed the discomfort. When her gasps of pain had subsided, Mr. Gold gripped Belle's hips and guided her into a position so that her legs were wrapped around his waist and where she could grip easily onto his shoulders.
Then he thrust into her with some force, and Belle cried out from the mingled pain and pleasure of it as he dove into her over and over, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist so that he was buried as deeply into her as he could go. She whimpered every time his pelvis brushed against that delicate mound and dragged her nails down his shoulder blades, lost in ecstasy and gripping onto him more tightly every time he slid out of her and rolled her hips to meet his thrusts halfway.
As their lovemaking intensified, Mr. Gold repositioned himself so that he was directly on top of Belle, their chests touching and his hair framing Belle's face as his lips found hers, his tongue exploring her mouth while his shaft forged a burning path inside of her. When Belle found her breath beginning to come in short gasps, Mr. Gold reached down between her legs and found that little mound of flesh, rubbing it in rhythm with each motion of his hips. Belle gasped into Mr. Gold's hair, writhing under his hand until she felt a tension building that she knew must come to fruition, but which she tried to prolong as much as she could, not wanting the joy to end.
"I love you," Mr. Gold murmured suddenly in her ear, his breath stirring her hair and his words shocking her as they sent powerful spasms racking her body, obliterating all coherent thought from her mind. She could feel herself clenching him as her orgasm shook her and he moaned, gripping into her hips and slamming himself into her as hard as he could; each time Belle, her passion finally spent, gasped with the sheer closeness of him—when his own pleasure finally came, she reached up her hands to cup his face and they stared at each other as his body seized up and his rapid thrusting became slow and deep, eventually ceasing altogether.
They remained in that position, Mr. Gold panting into Belle's hair as Belle shivered beneath him, both clinging to the other as if afraid to let go. She felt him going soft inside of her and he quietly rolled onto his side, facing her. She watched him intently, her pulse slowing back to normal and with it her coherency returning, as she struggled to find words.
"Did you mean that?" she whispered, afraid he had merely been caught up in the moment and might not even know what she was referring to.
Mr. Gold pulled her towards him and kissed her forehead. "I have always loved you Belle, but I've long known you were too good for me. So I found distraction in inferior women. I had no idea you might feel the same…" his voice broke and Belle realized with a jolt that he was fighting to control tears. Moved, Belle snuggled up close and gripped his dress shirt, burying her face in his neck.
"Will you stay tonight, Mr. Gold?" She couldn't stop the warmth that spread through her chest at the thought of him sleeping alongside of her.
"I'll stay as long as you want me to, dearie. And my name is Rowan."
"Rowan," Belle repeated, surprised to realize that she had never known his given name. She smiled as she curled up more tightly against him, attempting futilely to fight the drowsiness rushing over her.
"Sleep, love. We will have plenty of time to talk tomorrow," he murmured, kissing Belle on the forehead as he gently stroked the wavy hair away from her damp face. "We have forever."