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"What are you doing?"

Belle lay on the thick vermillion rug before the blazing orange fire thumbing through pages of an ancient volume of lore she found by chance in one of the abandoned rooms of the Dark Castle.

Her eyes swept up the looming figure of the Dark One shadowed by dancing flames and harsh leather.

His boots were mud caked; his pants were snug but well worn.

His torso was covered by a hide waistcoat and underneath it he wore a sage colored blouse.

And those eyes…..

They were spell binding.

Anger, amusement, boredom, glee, and passion all boiled in those glimmering irises lined with golden lashes.

His hair was messy and unkempt as always which gave him an endearing little boy quality that nearly made Belle giggle.

But the heat in his eyes stifled her.

She stared at him for a few moments before speaking.

"Reading."

Her tone was flat and her face was staid.

His eyes jumped to her legs, now visible since her skirts had ridden up.

Seeing her pantalets trimmed in layers of white lace and ruby colored stockings tied off with ribbons for garters would have mortified any other man, but not him.

It made the cooled cinders in his heart smolder and spark to life.

Belle tucked a lose curl behind her ear, she had taken her hair down hours ago and she wondered to herself which fashion he preferred it dressed in.

His arms were folded behind his back; his posture was erect and rigid as he stood over her.

"Where are your shoes?" he said in a low voice.

"Just there." Her eyes darted across to the chair where her slippers were resting in front of.

He kept staring at her stockings.

They were the color of warm blood.

His head swam.

His pulse thundered in his ears.

He felt the coils of darkness grow tighter around his heart.

When he finally met her gaze again it startled her and she bit her bottom lip tenderly.

Rumplestiltskin felt himself begin to harden.

"Why are you lying on the floor?" he asked in a choked whisper.

He looked as if he were suddenly in great pain.

Belle closed her book, "Because I like to."

"Do you like me?"

He didn't look at her when he asked; his eyes were fixed on the roaring fire beyond her.

"Yes."

It was the truth.

His face twitched, "Do you like it when I am on top of you?"

He did not look her in the eye.

His posture remind just as stiff and uncomfortable.

It was an unnerving question but Belle knew if she did not answer him honestly he would know and he would recoil.

"Yes." She said in a huskier tone.

His eyes jumped to her face and searched her eyes for any sign of guile.

He found none.

Although his face betrayed nothing, he was pleased greatly by her honesty.

"Sit up. At my feet." He commanded.

She nodded and pushed her book to the side as she rose to her knees.

"Look at me."

Her clear blue eyes met his stormy gold and instantly she felt that familiar aching begin to bloom again between her thighs.

His hands were still clasped behind him.

Belle longed for him to wrap them around her in that possessive way she had grown so used to.

"Unlace your bodice and take it off."

His voice was guarded and tight, but her deft little fingers automatically plucked at the ties of her basque and soon it joined the forgotten book to the side.

She wore a bombazine frock of dark reds trimmed heavily in beige lace that flattered her beauty immensely.

He gazed down at her with frozen, haunted eyes.

His mouth was drier than any desert as he swallowed the lump that had been lingering in his throat.

"Pull off your petticoats."

"All of them?" she asked with wide, innocent eyes.

"That is what I said, was it not?" he said tartly, as if he had been insulted.

No one had ever seen her naked save for her wet nurse and him.

Slowly she pulled her skirt up around her waist and undone the ties of her petticoats.

She shimmed her gauzy lace underskirts off and laid them atop her bodice.

He had begun to sweat, but it wasn't due to the scorching heat of the flames that danced behind Belle.

It was the thick, burning lust that surged through his body and clouded his mind.

"Belle?"

"Yes?"

"What would you do for me?"

She furrowed her brow quizzically, unsure of how to answer such a question.

He looked down at her with a condescending displeasure, "Do not make me ask twice."

She gave him an indignant look, but still didn't answer.

He could come up with such odd things to say at the most inopportune moments…

"I am not quite sure." She said with a slow shake of her head.

He huffed in disfavor.

He had wanted her to say, "Anything."

But she hadn't.

"Take off your gown." He ordered, his voice laced with an annoyed air.

Belle knew by the sudden change in his tone that she had done something or said something wrong.

"I cannot reach the fastenings my lord." She said softly.

He rolled his eyes, "Well stand up then."

She obeyed.

She always obeyed.

"Turn around." He mumbled gruffly.

She turned towards the biting flames and swept her curls over her right shoulder.

She sucked in a sharp breath when she felt his sharp, jagged nails begin to prick at the fastenings of her dress.

His hands were warm and thin with large, gnarled joints and angry protruding veins.

But they touched her with such tenderness at times it was easy to forget their hateful appearance.

The contact of his hands upon her shoulders was very nearly religious.

He unlaced her without haste, taking his time to enthrall her and postpone any passionate contact.

Belle bit her bottom lip against the onslaught of this new fever overtaking her body.

Rumplestiltskin didn't speak, only the languid sounds of her newly aroused breath and the crackling of the fire filled the cavernous hall.

She began to feel lightheaded and fuzzy as he drew her nearer to his front.

Belle felt the top of her dress loosen and knew he had finished his task.

His hands came to rest again on her shoulders.

"Allow me?" he hissed into her ear, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin just below her ear lobe.

"Yes, yes of course." She mumbled in a breathy whisper.

His hands dove underneath the front of her gown smoothly and quickly he had her upper torso fully unclothed.

He wrapped his silk covered arms around her corseted waist and rested his chin on one milky shoulder.

Belle's hands covered his own.

She sighed lethargically before melting into his protective grasp.

Her white corset and chemise appeared brighter in the firelight.

He pressed his face into her neck and inhaled deeply her scent.

She was aroused; she was ready.

He ground his hardness against her backside lightly, moving his hips in a slow rhythm.

He groaned when she responded and molded back against him.

"Rumplestiltskin." She purred as she turned, exposing the white column of her neck to his ravenous mouth.

He began to lave her neck with passionate kisses and occasional bites, all the while letting his hands wander slowly up the front of her corset.

It was made of rigid bleached brocade with boning of steel.

It was a barrier between his bereft hands and her supple flesh.

"Step out of your dress." He said between kisses and caresses.

Somehow through her lusty haze she heard him and nodded.

Before she knew it her gown was at her feet and she was in front of her master-turned-lover in nothing but her underclothes.

Her chemise was a thin, fragile thing that had become shamefully transparent before the flames.

Her beautiful breasts were fully visible to the Dark One and his mouth watered for them.

Her shoulders sloped down to a lovely, inviting décolletage and he her saw the shadow of her erect nipples through the sheerness of her chemise.

His eyes continued to pass down the rest of her; the small waist that tapered down to full, round hips and buttocks; the shapely thighs and red hosiery that covered her lovely legs and small feet.

He rested his hands on her waist, "Do you want me?"

"More than anything." She rasped.

A ghost of a smile crossed his face, but it was fleeting.

He pulled her to him grasped the nape of her neck tightly.

"You. Are. Mine." He growled in an authoritative bass.

Belle's arms hung limply at her sides, heavy with longing just like the rest of her body.

His mouth attacked her neck and collarbone with a needy snarl.

All Belle could do was endure.

His right hand cupped her lush bottom while the other wound around her waist with firmness so great he could have easily broken her ribs.

Her face was a disturbing cross between pure pleasure and pure physical anguish.

His rotted teeth were unforgiving against her sweet flesh; his hands were rough and searching as they assaulted her body and his erection was hateful and hard against the front of her core as he ground into her with animalistic movements.

In her mind's eye she saw nothing but bright red and all she could hear was his groans of satisfaction as he prepared them both for the consummation.

Belle felt herself grow wetter and wetter with anticipation.

There was a painful throbbing to replace the sweet ache.

"Rumplestiltskin." She whispered pleadingly.

He did not respond, but he heard the frustration that laced her voice.

He moved his hands again to her back where he began to rip unforgivingly through the ribbons of her corset.

With every pluck she let out tormented moans and impatient heaves.

Swiftly, he had undone her and yanked the restricting garment from her.

Eagerly she pressed herself against his chest and wound her fingers through his hair.

His greedy hands dove underneath the flimsy chemise and found her sensitive breasts whereupon he began to tease with his callused fingers.

Her body was screaming for him as she began to rub herself against his hardness like a bitch in heat.

"Lie down." He said, pushing her hungry body from his and gesturing to the rug.

She did not have to be told twice.

Every move made her aroused insides lurch with wanting.

He joined her on the rug, taking his place atop her nestled between her thighs.

Rumplestiltskin could smell her through the thin fabric of her pantalets.

He rolled his eyes and bore his teeth like a mad dog that had caught the scent of fresh meat.

Belle moaned and threaded her fingers through her hair.

Her body arched and Rumplestiltskin ran his hands down the front of her in one long sweep, stopping at the juncture of her thighs to cup her raging womanhood through the cloth.

She wailed at his touch.

"Please." She groaned with tight shut eyes.

"I love to hear you beg." He answered in an unsettling tone.

He un-tucked her chemise from the pantalets and hastily pulled them from her lower half.

Her scarlet stockings however remained.

His hand was upon her instantly rubbing and massaging the enflamed area betwixt her legs.

She tossed her head from side to side akin to someone who experiences fits of palsy as the Dark One traced her naked slit with one long finger.

She was dripping for him.

His cock jumped at the sight of her silken pink flesh coated in her own juices.

Slowly he entered her with his middle finger, making her body draw tighter with need.

She swallowed his digit easily and he felt the warmth of her snug walls around every joint.

He heard her mewls and strangled calls for more, but he relished in the feeling of her around his finger.

His other hand made quick work of his own lacings and soon he had freed himself.

He was hot and long, pulsating with need as he moved his finger in and out of her incredibly swollen folds.

Belle still did not open her eyes.

She was lost in emotion.

Every other noise uttered from her was his name.

It was a pitiful prayer on her lips as he fucked her with his finger.

Perspiration dotted his brow and ran down his temples as he prepared himself for the hellish vice that was her core.

She was so tight it was nearly painful to him.

"Say you want me." He demanded as he began to stroke himself whilst fondling her.

Belle gasped and dug her nails into the plush carpeting beneath her, "I want you."

"Say you want me inside of you."

She ground herself into his palm wantonly, "I want you inside of me."

He choked back a moan and moved to lie on top of her.

Her legs voluntarily opened wider to accommodate him.

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Please." She said darkly.

He huffed and thrust a hand up to her face to cup it lovingly.

She could smell herself on his fingers.

"I will make you weep in agony." He bit out between clenched teeth, "And no one will be able to hear you."

Before his words could register he had already impaled himself inside of her and was working at a frenzied pace.

Belles screamed, high and clear at the sudden intrusion.

The hand that had been cupping her face so tenderly moved to grip her hair as he pounded into her sopping centre.

Her mouth was frozen in a silent scream for the pleasure was too great to issue any noise from her tortured body.

Her legs closed around his hips in an unconscious effort to drive him deeper as his pace remained furious and unrelenting.

His breath was warm against her neck with occasional growls that sent shivers up Belle's spine.

Her hands clawed at his back as he hit that wonderful spot within her and she let out a startled cry.

It was too much.

Her body was taking all of him.

"For you," he said into her ear, "I crave nothing but suffering, for you are my weakness."

Belle began to weep from the pain pressure blooming in her womb.

But that did not stop the onslaught of pleasure Rumplestiltskin was bestowing upon her.

"You. Are. Everything." He choked out between ragged groans and ferocious growls.

"Rumplestiltskin!" she cried as hot, fat tears streamed down the sides of her face.

He quickly pushed himself away from her and propped up on his hands.

She felt the slight shift in position and knew it would not be long until she exploded around him.

Her breasts moved tantalizingly with each stroke and Rumplestiltskin grabbed her right leg roughly, holding it behind his back as he dove into her.

There was so much wetness coating him.

There was nothing but the sweet, pure smell of Belle wafting through the thick air.

He threw his head back as she continued to cry from both ecstasy and torment.

He knew if he kept at this pace he would soon be finished.

Belle was just too good for him.

She was perfect.

Her walls were a flutter with her coming orgasm and Rumplestiltskin felt her get wetter.

Her watery eyes flew open and met his.

She was on the precipice.

"Go ahead," he rumbled, "Scream."

Her walls clamped down hard and there was a mighty flood of womanly waters.

From her throat erupted the most erotic scream the likes of which he had never before heard.

Her back arched from the rug and she wrapped her arms tight around him as she shattered.

Her thighs shook and quaked with supreme pleasure.

Rumplestiltskin did not stop for a moment.

Her orgasm was powerful and draining.

So powerful in fact that he did not last for much longer himself.

With one deep push he had emptied himself fully into her, his body locking and a rush of blood blinding him with bliss.

There was no dagger, no Cora, no Milah and no magic.

There was nothing but Belle.