It had always existed there between them.
From the very first licentious thought to the eventual night of consummation there seemed to be an arousing friction between them.
He hadn't thought of her in that sense until the night he found her bathing in front of the fire, her body highlighted in the flames like a pagan offering.
After that he was constantly fighting himself.
Repressing the image of her glittering skin and round hips.
He has never loved a woman so purely.
He wanted to touch her, yet he knew if he did he would crumble the very thing that made her so entrancing and irresistible.
It was the lure of virginity.
It was the teasing of an ankle underneath lace trimmed petticoats, it was the lacings at the back of her gown, and it was the brush of her fingers against his hand as she passed the cream during tea.
It was the smell of naivety.
He liked to blame it on the darkness that was rooted inside of him.
He needed her in his life to stay.
He needed to hear her call his name and smile kindly to him when she caught him staring for these were the little things that he took with him to his alchemy when he was surrounded by solace.
"Rumplestiltskin…"
It was a breathy echo in his mind as he pictured her as she was that night in the bathing tub.
He was standing in front of the slab with his palms flat down on its cool surface trying to calm his racing pulse.
He was sweating.
His mouth had gone dry.
"Are you alright?" he heard from behind him.
Belle.
He whipped around and glared at her, "What are you doing here? You were told never to come here."
He voice wasn't snarky and high but much, much lower and thicker.
She noticed he seemed to struggle to catch his breath like he had been doing something laborious or monumental before she entered.
She wasn't frightened though.
"I only came to tell you dinner is ready."
Her eyes were so unassuming.
The eyes of an innocent.
He tried to guard his loins from view as he moved to pass by her.
Her scent was intoxicating.
"You're sweating!" She said as she caught his arm.
"Are you ill?"
Her brows were knotted in concern for him.
Her touch burned.
"No." he said low.
He stared at her hand on his forearm.
"You have a fever Rumplestiltskin." She said as she moved her hand to lay it across his perspiring brow.
"I'm quite well." He hissed through gritted teeth.
"Would you care for some tea? It wouldn't take but a moment to brew a pot."
Her hand rested now on his shoulder.
He rolled his glassy eyes and tried to look anywhere but in her eyes.
He felt faint.
"How many times must I tell you I'm fine!?"
He wrenched himself away from her and leaned against his work table cradling his head in his hands.
Belle stood back in confusion.
She had never seen him act this strange.
He hadn't been this ill-tempered to her in months.
She watched his back rise and fall with great breaths and the occasional shudder.
If only Belle knew she was the cause of his calamity…
He struggled to control himself but with her still in the room it was near impossible.
"Why are you still here?" he whispered from between his spindly fingers.
Belle toyed nervously with her apron as she spoke, "I don't want to leave you by yourself if you're sick Rumplestiltskin."
"I am not sick!" he bellowed as he picked up a glass beaker and threw it at the stone wall.
Belle jumped.
"Just get out!"
Her presence was too much for him right now with his resistance as low as it was.
She blinked her clear blue eyes as if she didn't understand.
"Rumplestitlskin-"
"Do not say my name!"
He clasped his hands on either side of his head and hunched over like a kicked animal.
Belle's mouth dropped into an astonished gape and her first instinct was to rush to him, but the way his voice sounded and the way he clawed at his hair frightened her despite the bravado she tried to serve.
He reminded Belle of when her father's favorite hound went rabid.
So she picked up her skirts and quickly left the room, letting the heavy oak door slam behind her.
Belle didn't see her master for three days after that incident in the laboratory.
When he finally emerged and joined her for tea in the great hall he acted totally normal.
"Pass the cream would you dearie?" he said in his usual chipper lilt.
The dark, husky voice he had used in the lab still rang in Belle's ears.
The feel of her fingers against his made Rumplestiltkin's heart lurch in his chest.
A dark look passed over his face, but he shook it off.
"How are you today?" Belle asked timidly as she slurped her tea.
He gave her a quizzical look.
"I'm quite well, how are you?"
"Oh," she said as she placed her cup on the saucer, "fine."
She placed her hands in her lap and fiddled with her skirt.
Rumplestiltskin couldn't help but notice the neckline of the gown she wore today was lower than she usually wore.
He felt warm.
Her hair was swept up carelessly with pins showing to full advantage the white curve of her neck.
He couldn't help but to stare as he drummed his discolored, broken nails against the table top.
Belle bit her lip as she waited for him to say something.
But he didn't.
There was only the incessant drumming of his long nails on the table.
She sipped her tea gingerly and he watched.
He was uneasy and aroused.
"Belle." He finally said after over a half an hour of drumming, "How old are you?"
She looked a little surprised but answered, "Twenty."
When he was twenty he was spinning to earn his keep and had just begun courting Milah.
"Twenty." He said as he took a drink of his cooled tea.
Twenty years old and still pure.
Belle suddenly felt uncomfortable and moved to get up.
"Are you leaving?" he asked.
"I have finished." She answered.
"But I haven't dismissed you, have I?"
She looked at him funny, "No."
"Then you cannot leave."
He finished the contents of his cup and pushed it to the side.
"Why?" she asked as she stood beside of her chair.
His eyes passed down her body slowly.
He rested his chin in his hand thoughtfully.
"Because I do not wish to be deprived the pleasure of your company."
His face was stoic.
That scared Belle.
She swallowed and racked her brain for something to say.
"Do you know what your name means Belle?" he said.
She cocked her head and furrowed her brows, "Of course I do."
He uncrossed his lean legs and pushed his chair back from the table.
Belle's pulse jumped.
As he rose from the table she began to blush a fetching shade of crimson.
"Well," he said in the voice from the laboratory, "what does it mean?"
He leaned against the table's edge as he awaited his answer.
She felt vaguely like a cornered animal by the way he was glaring at her.
Her chest was blossoming with the same faint red blush as her cheeks.
Why was he acting so queer?
"It means 'beautiful'." She said in a quiet tone.
Rumplestiltskin's eyes glowed and his skin glimmered.
"Quite a fitting name for you my dear." He rumbled.
Belle attempted to laugh but it came out too shaky and nervous.
"Really Rumplestiltskin, you mustn't' say such things."
Her eyes darted from the floor to the large double doors.
He was scaring her.
Almost as if he could read her mind he said, "Would you like to leave?"
Her eyes met his and she sucked in a startled breath.
They were beautiful.
So clear and light.
Like two gem stones shining in the sunlight.
"Belle?" he said, "Would you like to leave?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin when he brushed a loose curl away from her neck.
She didn't answer; she couldn't answer.
His face was unanimated as his nails raked over her jugular and down towards her collar bone.
His touch was feather light.
He tickled her throat with those awful, broken nails.
Belle's eyes fluttered shut and she felt his arm wind around her waist.
He marveled at how white her skin was.
Pure.
"I can't help myself Belle." He said as he let his fingers wander down the front of her basque.
She was so flushed.
She was very nearly panting.
He paused over her heart.
"Beautiful." He hummed.
Her breasts were pushed high by her stays.
She was petite, but lush all the same.
His claws plucked at the ties of her bodice.
"Rumplestiltskin." She breathed.
He pried the heavy, burgundy velvet basque from her torso and let it fall to the floor.
He still supported her at her waist.
Rumplestiltskin ran his withered hands up her rib cage to massage her breast through the material of her dress.
His mouth longed to be where his eager hands now traveled.
Belle made little fretting noises as he caressed her.
No one had ever touched her as he was now.
Her skin felt hot and tight.
Her stomach flipped and flopped when she felt him lift her skirts up and yank at her pantalets.
She felt them fall in a puddle around her ankles.
Then she pulled him to her.
"Rumplestiltskin."
There was a throbbing between her thighs.
It ached.
He fought with all the layers of lace that kept her decent.
When he finally found her she let out a low keen.
"Lie back Belle." He said calmly as he directed her to lie down on the table.
Her eyes were still closed as she felt the smooth wood against her back.
Rumplestiltskin positioned her legs on either side of him.
Taking her skirt in both hands he ripped it up the front, bearing her to his smothering sight.
Belle reached for him and he leaned down to pepper her throat and jaw with warm kisses.
She felt him hard against her.
Her eyes flew open and she pushed him back, "Will it hurt terribly?"
Rumplestiltskin brushed her hair away from her forehead, "Yes."
She uttered a little whimper but pulled him back to her bosom.
He kissed her chest and neck and let his hands wander up the white walls of her thighs.
"I can't help it Belle." He whispered entreatingly into her ear.
He pulled at the fastenings of his leather breeches furiously and hissed in relief when he had freed himself.
She could feel him on her leg.
She braced herself.
He placed himself and let his other hand cup her face tenderly.
He wanted to see her.
Slowly, he pushed into her swollen folds.
She was everything he had ever dreamed she would be.
He ripped her maidenhead and wiped a stray tear away.
Her body bent when he plunged into her and she cried out in pain.
It was a hoarse cry.
He stilled and wiped more tears as they began to fall.
He rested on his elbows as the blood and darkness both pumped through his veins.
He had done it.
He had sated himself by breaking her virtue.
Her legs came to wrap around his waist and he moved faster and faster.
He rutted her like a common whore.
There was the metallic tang of blood in the air along with smell of innocence.
Belle writhed underneath him, clutching at his hair and waistcoat.
He ripped open the front of her dress and cupped both of her breasts, rolling the pert, rosy nipples between his fingers as he pounded into her with all the power he could muster.
Finally he had given in.
He dug into her ribs with is nails and she cried out, but he paid her no heed.
He pulled her legs over his shoulders as he bent down and hissed into her ear that she was everything to him.
She cried out and begged him not to stop.
He squeezed her throat until there were purple bruises blooming on her pale, pure skin.
He marked her for his own as he fucked her.
She dripped with black magic.
She dug her nails into his forearms as he grasped her waist and sunk deeper and deeper into her with each stroke.
He watched the combining of green flesh and milky white.
He watched the pain and ecstasy on her face.
Her body was confused, but it was enjoying itself all the same.
"Say my name." he panted, "Say my name."
Belle's chest heaved with sobs of pleasure.
She couldn't speak, she couldn't hear, all she could do was feel him inside of her, relentlessly assaulting her with his manhood.
"What's my name Belle?" he groaned as he pulled out only to sink back in.
He felt her arousal on his stomach as it dripped forth from her.
She was tight and stifling around him as he drove on, waiting desperately to hear his name from her beautiful lips.
"Please Belle," he moaned, "Tell me!"
She grabbed at his blouse, her body convulsed around his rigidity and she cried out his name in a broken wail that was choked by tears.
"Rumplestiltskin!"
Please let me know if I should continue this with a second Chapter! Thank you so much for reading! Please review, I love reviews!