A/N: Well, here it is. The last chapter of Sensitivity. Though, I may have an idea for an epilogue in the works. It'll be a surprise if I do it, a nice one. I would also like to thank all those that took the time to read and review this story. It means a lot to hear that so many enjoyed it.
Rumpel graciously carried Belle up the stairs, all the while enjoying the feel of her head on his shoulder, her body aligning perfectly against his. He still found it mesmerizing that Belle wanted this to happen, that she wanted him in her arms and kissing her endlessly from head to toe. Part of him clung to the theory that if he pinched himself hard enough he would wake in his bed, the victim of a seductive, cruel dream. But he wouldn't pinch himself for exactly two reasons: if this was a dream, he selfishly did not wish it to end; and the pinching would hurt.
After what seemed like an eternity in conquering the hallway of the west wing, Rumpel reached the door of his bedroom, closed as usual to all passersby. Passersby meaning Belle.
"You've only ever been in this room once," he said solemnly. That one time, when she burst into his room to find him nearly drowning in the tub. That one time, when Belle had introduced him to such mind-blowing pleasure unlike any in his sweetest dreams. He glanced down at Belle, who was studying him with such rapture his heart melted. "I swear, I will never lock you out again."
He meant that more than he could convey, though he knew Belle would be clever enough to understand. He would not lock her out of his room; likewise, he vowed never again to lock her out of his heart. It was hers to do with as she pleased.
Flicking his fingers from underneath the folds of Belle's flowing white wedding dress, the bedroom door flew wide open, granting them access.
"Welcome to our bedroom, then," he said, his feet crossing over the threshold. Belle's arms hugged his neck tighter, proving her affection.
He brought Belle to the bed and gently laid her atop the covers. He leaned back to admire his beauty. She stretched langorously, her arms calmly hanging above her head, her dark curls spiraling over the sheets, her body spanning the length of the bed. A blissful smile lingered on her parted lips. She appeared to be so relaxed, so ready...
It was then he hesitated.
"Belle, sweetheart, if you have any last minute doubts about the two of us...doing...it...at any time, you can tell me to stop and I will-"
Belle rolled onto her side, her cheek brushing the pillows and her chest rising and falling with ease over the sheets. He could not help but trace the round curve of her hip with his eyes, his tongue feverishly licking his rough lips. She captured his hand in her warm one.
"I've made my choice, Rumpelstiltskin. What's yours?"
Tugging lightly on his hand, she guided him to the edge of the bed. He never had a woman who wanted him so dearly without secret intentions or who cherished him so delicately. He found his body responding to her call, his feet drifting over the cold floor, unable to resist her any longer. He perched one knee on the mattress, gained her approval via an enticing batting of the lashes and a come-hither gesture, and then he finished crawling his way into her arms. She gladly accepted him, her arms wrapping around his back and holding him without any intention of letting go. His mouth hovered over her skin and lips, like a bee searching for the sweetest nectar.
"I wish I could kiss you," he moaned as her breath tickled his chin. If he could, he would kiss her until she was the one who fainted. Belle slid her hands over his chest, not in a way of warning him to stop, but in a way that suggested she was memorizing every detail of her soon-to-be lover.
Pulling back the layer of silk-oh, the castle's draftiness!-Belle pushed her body up and her mouth latched fiercely onto his chest, kissing the spot that concealed his throbbing heart. He tossed his head back, a cry of pure ecstasy escaping his throat when her fiery lips dragged across his golden skin to the juncture between his neck and shoulder, her tongue occasionally tasting him.
Black dots swarmed his vision, his mind swam in a whirlpool of emotions, blood rushed and pounded through his ears-
"Rumpel," Belle's tender voice was hardly discernable over the methodic chant of oh, dearie that had begun in his head. Her hand cupped his cheek and he struggled to focus on her lovely face amidst the shadows. That lush bottom lip was trapped between her pearly teeth. "Stay with me."
Gods, was he on the verge of fainting again? No, he refused to succumb to the sensitivity. Tonight he would escape its claws. Tonight he would prove his love to Belle.
"I'm here, my love," he whispered huskily. Oh, the maddening effect this woman had on him physically and mentally. Gently, he prodded her shoulders, instructing her to lay back atop the pillows. "I'm here and I shall not be leaving until you are wholly satisfied, whatever that may entail." He would hold her all night long, he would love her more tenderly than any living man could love a woman, he would worship her on his knees tonight.
Gathering his courage, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her reddening cheek, generously tasting the apple and infinitely craving more. His nose buried into her rich hair, inhaling her fragrance until he swooned. The line of her jaw, the lobe of her ear, the swan-like contours of her neck, the hollow of her throat-his lips devoured every inch of Belle.
He figured out which pressure points made her moan (a lick of the throat here and a nuzzle of the thigh there) and he would repeat the actions just to savor the sound of her pleasure. Most amazing to him was the part where Belle rolled her head back onto the pillow, giving him further access to her white throat.
Belle's hands delved under his silk shirt, begging him to part with it. At the same time, she allowed his hands to explore freely, to do all he desired with her body. Just to encourage him along, she shrugged her shoulder and the hem of her dress dipped, teasing him with the strip of flesh above her breast. Rumpel's eyes widened in awe of her willing behavior, but he was immediately snagged under her enchantment, bending his head to suckle the soft skin above her breast.
She tasted so good. Belle was a dessert of extraordinary means that would never settle on his pallate, instead exploding and gushing inside his mouth with a blend of flavors. There weren't even any names to describe the flavors; they were simply the most delicious that Rumpel ever experienced.
Every now and then, Rumpel had to pause to gasp for air and blink the black spots from his vision, heady as he was from the stimuli, but Belle did not seem to mind that he was taking his time. That is, until her thigh gloriously snaked around his waist.
"My turn," she murmured, breath coming heavily. Using her thigh, she shoved him backwards onto the bed. Rumpel's fingers clenched the sheets as Belle straddled his hips. "You look like you're about to pass out above me. For now, let me handle the work. I'll be gentle-I promise."
And she was gentle, in every possible way. Whenever Belle set off a particularly sensitive nerve-a stroke of the leg here and a caress of the chest there-he shivered, trembled, and convulsed with pleasure, his back arching in request for more. Her kisses landed on his neck, chest, shoulders, and stomach with the delicacy of butterfly wings. Her fingers threaded through his wiry hair, rubbing his jaw, playing with the buttons of his shirt. His own hand held Belle's head, the other arm resting around her waist, his way of telling her never to stop. The protection of his clothing was shed from his chest, though it opened him up to Belle's warmth. Rumpelstiltskin failed to remember a time where he felt this complete.
"I need you," he whispered into her ear the next time her head lowered to graze his jaw. He had known that for a while now, but this was the first time he allowed himself to appreciate the truth. His bravery was increasing little by little, his hand daring to skate up Belle's back. "I love you."
"I love you, too," she reciprocated automatically. That admission alone was the key in the lock, sealing the deal.
Together they rolled back and forth over the bed, together they explored each other's bodies and discovered the precise spots to bring the most pleasure. Together, they became one, thriving as they never could whilst living separate lives.
Fireworks erupted inside Rumpel's head, an array of magical colors illuminating his vision. The warmest of sensations filled him from the hair on his head to the tips of his toes. For a moment, the moment where he finally came together with Belle, everything went stark white and all he could hear was the sound of his own voice screaming her name. Every muscle in his body went numb, the wheels in his brain stopped cranking, his heart ceased to beat.
Was he dead? Had the stimuli finally triumphed over him?
The intense white faded, darkening into the blackest of black. It was blacker than Snow White's coal-shaded hair. He must be dead. The stimuli of climbing to such heights with Belle became his undoing.
Then Rumpel twitched one of his hands and he was aware of someone tracing their thumb over his palm. There was the solid bed underneath his bare back. There was a heavy weight on his chest, but he found that it rose when he sucked in a breath. And the darkness...oh, he simply had to open his eyes.
Belle was the weight atop his chest, her head nuzzling into his skin and her remarkable blue eyes watching him with concern. She didn't say anything; she seemed to be waiting for something. Everything was so dark in the room, darker than he remembered when he carried Belle over the threshold. The next thing he noticed was that it was quiet. It was only when he strained his hearing that he caught the rhythm of her breath, but...not her heart. It must be pounding after their joruney together between the sheets, but its sound was kept a secret from him.
He couldn't hear.
He couldn't see. Gods, he was practically blind!
That meant...
"Belle," he whispered in wonder, his brain sluggishly working to decipher the situation. He scratched his head, but his nails no longer irritated the scalp. His voice wasn't so high-pitched and unpleasant to his ears. Belle's smell was regrettably fainter than a few moments before. "Belle, I...I think you did it. You broke my curse. My sensitivity curse, anyhow. It's gone."
He was free. All thanks to Belle, he was free.
Belle kissed his chest and it made him shiver, though not so violently as when he suffered from oversensitivity. Still, it was a very pleasurable feeling.
"It takes two to tango, you silly man," she corrected, laughing. Oh, he loved that laugh. And her humming-he didn't care if she spent the entire day humming! He would gladly pull up a chair and sip some tea while she performed every song her heart knew. Now, he pulled her tighter into his embrace and caressed her cheek.
"Thank you," he exclaimed. For thr first time in the past three centuries, he felt genuinely happy. They could be together, forever, if that was what she wished. Nothing would prevent him from enjoying his beauty now, save for the wretched Dark One curse. Whatever challenges arose, they would face them as one entity.
Belle smiled modestly.
"Let's do it again," she pleaded. And he did not hesitate to acquiesce, taking Belle into the circle of his arms once more. This time, he promised never to let her go.
...
There you go, Rumpel's sensitivity curse has been broken and Rumbelle is happily intact. (-; As for that epilogue...we'll see.
Shout-outs go to all those that reviewed recently, for your kind words certainly inspire my writing: Huntress4455, Mini Nicka, Just 2 Dream of You, Grace5231973, MyraValhallah, The Lark, Guest, asalia, cheesyteal'c, RoxyMoron, Drac1026, Guest45, Revenessa, 9aza, AngelofDarkness1605, and SwanQueen4055. Thank you everyone for reading! Long live Rumbelle.