The Club

by Mellkat86

*AU* Ruby and Victor seek new thrills for their sex life. Victor is invited to 'The Club', a prestige club where people are able to lose themselves in their own pleasure and the pleasure of others. Ruby is apprehensive, so she asks Belle to go with her. Belle isn't keen about the idea, but goes along with them. The Club might entail more for Belle than she might actually realise...

8. Chapter 8: The Asshole and Temptation

Hefting a large bag of flour into the store room, Belle groaned loudly as she humped the bag onto the pile of bags, stacked in the corner of the room. She laid it flat onto the pile and adjusted its position until it was aligned with the sacks beneath. Breathing out heavily, she paused to take a moment, her arms propping her weight on the sacks of flour. Thankful, it was the last bag of the order, Belle turned and sat onto the sacks. For the last hour, she had to and fro from Granny's van, bringing in the stock order before she left for the evening. It would save her a job in the morning, but also prolonged the inevitable of facing her father.

Her mood wasn't the greatest after Friday night, mixing it with her father's relentless foul mood was proving to be hazardous. Every night, so far, Belle had been forced to leave the house, needing some space from him, and had spent her evenings with Ruby. Free and eager to move on, it hadn't taken much encouragement to persuade Ruby to go out for a drink. So each night, they'd been at the Rabbit Hole, drinking and playing pool, winning drinks off men who thought they'd stood a chance with them.

The distraction had been welcomed. The attention not.

Ruby, of course, had lapped it up. While Belle had broken and sunk the majority of the table, Ruby had been hanging around whoever's neck had challenged them. It was a ruse they had played for years until it had gotten boring. Belle would clear the table, while Ruby diverted their attention. Course, they would always be peeved they hadn't gotten to play. 'Best out of three?', they would say, slapping more money onto the table. Letting them break the second time, Ruby would sashay her way around the table to Belle and the two of them would stand provocatively in the corner together. They would time it just right… Faking a kiss as the guy would take his shot, daunting them enough they'd miss their shot, giving the table over to Belle, who'd clear it and collect their winnings with a sly smile. Except, no matter how much she won, how many drinks she downed, Belle couldn't get Friday evening out of her mind. His cold tone, his clipped words. They were a constant sneer in her ear.

She is desperate not to dwell on it. Any other man, she would've chalked it up to experience, drawn a line through his name and moved on. Apart from Mr Gold wasn't like any other man. The boys at the Rabbit Hole stood no chance, when subconsciously she compared them to him. Which was why, despite Ruby's nudging, Belle couldn't bring herself to go home with the men they'd met at the bar. A couple of weeks ago, she wouldn't have thought much of it. Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am. Now… He was under her skin. Just thinking about him, she could feel his hands on her body, ghosting down her sides, caressing her with his firm soft hands.

Bowing her head forward and closing her eyes, Belle willed his hands away, wanting five minutes where her thoughts didn't stray to him. She could guarantee his thoughts weren't preoccupied with her. Five days later and he hadn't bothered to call or message her. Yesterday, when he'd come by the B&B, to inspect the work being carried out in Grannie's apartment and the room below, he hadn't bothered to see her.

Though… If she was honest, as soon as she had heard he was in the building, she had ducked out into the back, performing an impromptu stock check. Which had been a blessing, since it turned out Ruby had forgotten and they had been running low on certain items. Hence the stock, she had spent an hour hefting into the store room.

It was cowardly to run and hide from him, but with their relationship being what it was, Belle had no clue how to approach the subject with him. It was part of the reason she'd been going out every night. Needing the space to be able to think clearly. Hoping a thought of inspiration would strike, or at least Ruby would come up with something. As much as Ruby had dated some losers in her time, Ruby was quite good at giving out relationship advice. Apart from when Belle was asking for it.

"So what do you think I should do?" Belle had asked, after divulging an abbreviated version of Friday night.

Ruby had smirked at Belle as she had lifted her shot glass to her lips. "He bit you? Man's got some passion!"

"Yeah, and a cold shoulder that could end global warming." She had muttered, while Ruby had knocked back her shot.

"Are you sure it was about me knowing about him? You didn't like… You know, insult his manhood or something?" Ruby had asked.

"No, it's not about anything else." Belle had told her, while running her fingertip around the rim of her beer glass.

Narrowing her eyes, Ruby had speculated. "Maybe he's married… With kids… You know, doesn''t want her finding out."

Belle had let out a tired breath, while propping her elbow onto the bar, resting her chin into the palm of her left hand, as she had said for the hundredth time that night. "He's not married. He's divorced. His kid is grown up. No baggage. I told you this already."

"Hey, I'm playing Devil advocate here!" Ruby had swung her arm, hitting Belle's right shoulder with her hand. "Just because he's told you that, doesn't mean it's the truth, does it?"

As she had picked up her glass of beer, she had retorted with. "I don't need you to play Devil's advocate. I just need you to give me some advice on how to deal with him."

"Fuck him." Ruby had stated bluntly.

Holding her half empty glass up in the air, Belle had twisted her neck to look at Ruby, scrunching her brow at her. "Fuck him? That's your advice?"

Ruby had picked up her nearly empty glass of beer, explaining her point. "You can take it either way. Either, literally go and fuck him, and make up. Or, fuck him, he can go and join Victor, and we'll get another round in."

"That's really helpful advice. Thank you, Ruby." She had said dryly before taking a sip of her beer.

If their relationship was that simple, she would've gone to him already and had it out with him, arguing until their lips had locked together, taking their frustrations out on each other as they fucked. Thus, the problem. They weren't together. They weren't a couple. They were nothing to each other. He was Mr Gold, she was Miss French in his eyes, and they fucked once a week. There was nothing tangible between them. There was a line in-between them, which he had done a very good job at reminding her. They weren't lovers. They weren't friends. They were acquaintances, who fucked. There wasn't a precedent to follow, just a thick boundary line that kept them separate, fencing off their feelings from one another.

Belle wanted to yell at him. Scream at him in the middle of the street. Tell him how he wasn't supposed to be like that with her. Inform him that he was an asshole and should grovel at her feet, begging her to let him touch her again. Announce to everyone that he was fuck of the century. That no matter how much she wanted, she couldn't get him out of her mind and she wouldn't want it any other way.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she pushed herself away from the pile of flour sacks and dragged her feet as she left the store room, turning off the light behind her. Every other step, her pumps squeaked on the freshly mopped floor. Coming out of the short corridor into the kitchen, she looked round for Ron and Bill, but could tell from their clean stations they'd gone for the evening. She reached up to the back of her neck and massaged the aching muscles as she moseyed through the two-way door into the diner. Granny and Ruby were sitting at the large table, in the bay window, and looked up at her, when they heard the door swish shut behind her.

"Belle." Granny stated her name, sounding surprised, as she smiled warmly at her. "I thought you'd gone home."

"In a minute," Belle said before pulling out a chair from their table and sat down beside Ruby. "I wanted to get the stock in before I left."

Ruby nudged her elbow into Belle's side, jostling Belle in her chair. "You should've said, I would've come and helped you."

Eyeing Ruby beside her and then the account books on the table, Belle gave Ruby a lopsided look as she said. "And miss out on your accounting lesson? I don't think so."

"Do you want anything to eat or drink before you go home, Belle?" Granny asked, motioning to the kitchen.

"No, thank you, Granny." Belle tiredly shook her head. "I'll probably order some Chinese when I get in or go straight to bed."

Ruby looked expectantly at Belle as she inquired. "Aren't we going out tonight?"

Granny tilted her head forward, peering at them over the rim of her glasses. "You two aren't teenagers anymore. Working long hours and staying out all night will catch up with you."

"Yeah, not tonight. I'm a little tired and aching from carrying in all that flour and boxes, on my own." She told Ruby, while giving Granny a reassuring smile.

"Oh…" Ruby sounded disappointed. "Okay."

"You can tidy your room then, when you get upstairs." Granny charged Ruby, further tilting her head to make her point with a crooked eyebrow.

Ruby pressed her lips into a tight pout before she closed the account book in front of her with a firm thud. "Fine."

The loud scrape of the chair being thrusted back made Belle cringe, while Ruby got to her feet, grabbed her phone from the table and swaggered off. Twisting slightly in her chair, Belle glanced behind her, watching Ruby leave, heading for the corridor leading to the B&B. As she turned back to the table, she sniggered at the scene, recalling so many of them over the years, all exactly the same.

Granny's eyes were on Ruby till her granddaughter turned the corner, disappearing off to their apartment, then moved them in a blink to Belle, saying. "You should've said, honey, that you were getting the stock in. You shouldn't have done all that work on your own. Especially as stroppy ma'am was supposed to have ordered it earlier in the week."

"I don't mind. Working helps to take my mind off things." Belle admitted as she buried her hands into the pocket of her apron.

"Hmm…" Granny slightly tilted her head forward, looking partially over the rim of her glasses at Belle. "Like it has so far this week?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, unsure what Granny was getting at.

Folding her arms onto the table, Granny leaned forward onto them, hunching herself onto the table as she explained herself. "I might not always know what you girls are up to and sometimes I don't care to know. Girls will be girls." She paused, arching an eyebrow. "But I do notice when you girls aren't happy, especially when for nearly a month you've had this big smile on your face and then you've looked miserable the last few days."

"I have?" Belle questioned with her brow tensing.

Granny's features lightened with a knowing smile. "Honey, you're an open book to me. I know when something's up with my girls." Her smile diminished as she asked. "Is it your father?"

Blowing out a harsh breath, Belle sneered at the thought of her father, throwing her gaze up to the ceiling. "Some of it."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Granny softly asked.

"He's…" She licked at her lips, looking for the right thing to say, an excuse she could give for her father like she had done so many times before. 'He woke up on the wrong side of the bed', 'The shop isn't doing well', 'He's missing my mother'. Never revealing the truth to anyone. That he wanted her to bend to his will. Do everything he asked, without questioning it. Work herself to the bone to cover his debts. Though Belle reckoned Granny knew all of too well the truth, she was still reluctant to speak the truth to her. Being honest meant acknowledging how shitty her life had become, how she felt like she was drowning in her own home. That she was constantly walking on eggshells with her father, while trying to live her life how she wanted.

A look of regret clouded Granny's face as she unfolded her arms and clasped her hands onto the table, her thumbs duelled whilst she said. "I never agreed with you giving up on college for him." She lowered her gaze to her battling thumbs. "Looking after him until he was back on his feet was one thing, Belle, but giving up on college completely was disgraceful. Your father should be ashamed of himself."

Her hands balled into fists in the pouch of her apron. "He couldn't help it. He wasn't well."

"He's well now." Granny hit back instantly, snapping her eyes up to meet with Belle's.

There wasn't anything she could say. Her father was well now; it was the truth. Since she had quit college for good, her father hadn't had any trouble with his heart. It had probably helped that she had made sure he had eaten the right things, secretly had watched how much he had drunk and had checked to make sure he had taken his pills. Things that wouldn't have happened, if she had selfishly gone back to college.

Bending her head forward, Belle wished she could be more selfish.

"Look, honey, I don't want to upset you and dig things up from the past, but I want you to know, you've always got a home with Ruby and me." Granny's wrinkled hand appeared near the edge of the table, closest to Belle, reaching out her hand to her adopted granddaughter.

The tears were welling in Belle's eyes as she took her right hand out of her apron and grabbed Granny's, squeezing her soft hand. "I know, Granny."

Turning her hand over, taking Belle's into hers, Granny covered the top of Belle's hand with her other hand, telling her. "You don't need to stay with him anymore, if you don't want to be there. I don't want him making you miserable."

"He does, but it wasn't him." She confessed, wiping the tears away with her other hand, spilling a single tear down her right cheek.

"Who was it?" Granny strongly questioned. "I'll happily introduce them to Bertha."

A deep, heartfelt chuckle escaped from Belle as she rubbed away the evidence of the lonesome tear. "I'd rather you didn't threaten him with your shotgun."

"Him?" Her hands squeezed Belle's in her grasp. "That explains your beaming smile."

Belle braced an awkward smile for Granny. Telling a lie to Ruby was a means to an end. Exposing Granny to it was near enough sinful. Here she was, offering Belle a place to live, a home, a family, and she was going to return her kindness by offering her a lie. It felt wrong on so many levels, but the truth would've sent Granny off like a rocket. She hated Mr Gold as much as her father did. If she found out about them, Bertha would've been going out on a spontaneous fieldtrip.

"Yeah… I'm not sure if I'm going to continue seeing him." She confessed to Granny, voicing what had been on her mind since Friday night.

"Why?" Granny lightly probed.

Belle tilted her head to the side, studying their joined hands, feeling uncomfortable with the unavoidable lies she'd have to tell Granny. "We got into a little disagreement… I wouldn't actually call it that. It was nothing really. Nothing that would matter in the long run, but…" She lifted her gaze to meet Granny's. "He was cold and spoke to me like I was a child."

Her lips pressed together as she lifted her chin, mulling over Belle's reason, and said. "If my many years have taught me something, it's that there's always two sides to a story. We all have a past that dictates our behaviour or how we react to something. Your disagreement may have seemed like nothing to you, but to your fella, it may have been a big deal."

"You mean like a past relationship or something?" Belle queried with a thoughtful look.

"Could be." Granny said with a single nod of her head. "My point is, that you should talk to him before you make your decision. There might be a reason for the way he spoke to you."

Belle bristled. "There isn't a good enough reason for him to talk to me, the way he did."

Granny chuckled and told Belle. "I wish you'd take that attitude with your father."

"I…" She opened her mouth to refute Granny's claim, but she couldn't deny it.

There was no denying Granny's observation. Belle might snipe back at times with heated words, but her father always won at the end of the day. She was still in Storybrooke, paying his bills, obediently following his instructions like a dutiful daughter. Not once had she ever told him, enough was enough. She hated how he treated her like a child, a possession, a bank. There had been several times, she had told herself today was the last straw, the day she got her money from the tin under her bed and would leave.

Yet, she was still here.

Squeezing her hand brought Belle out of her thoughts as Granny said. "All relationships have bumps in the road, honey. Don't give up on him quite yet. Not when he's been making you so happy. Believe me, they don't come around often and sometimes you might find there's only one man that makes you feel that good."

"Like Arthur?" Belle asked, the corners of her lips curled up into a loving smile.

"Yes, like my Arthur." Granny mirrored her smile for a second, then a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "But he could be an ass at times too."

Chucking at Granny, Belle gently clenched Granny's hand as she said. "I'll take your advice under advisement, Granny."

"Mind you, you need to bring him in, so I can give him the once over." Granny informed her, lifting her hand off the top of Belle's to point her finger at her.

Biting her lower lip, an image of Granny threatening Mr Gold with Bertha over the counter, entered her mind. "I'll try."

"Good." Her hand landed on top of Belle's hand again and gave Belle's hand a very tight squeeze before she let go and sat back into her chair, sharing with Belle. "Now all I've got to worry about is Ruby again."

She considered Granny. "Ruby will be fine, Granny. She'll bounce back."

Granny barked a harsh 'Ha!' at Belle. "Until she brings home the next loser."

"Well, yes, there is that." Belle conceded.

"One can only hope, they've got more sense than our precious Doctor Whale." Granny stated as she crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head forward to peer over the rim of her glasses.

"I don't think that'll be hard." Belle said dryly, holding back a chuckle.

"Hmm… I supposed." Granny muttered and twisted her lips before changing the subject, throwing a hand to gesture at the kitchen again. "Are you sure, you don't want me to make you some dinner?"

Shaking her head at Granny, Belle pushed back her chair and stood up, telling her. "Dad should be off to Mr. Sherman's by now, so I'll order some takeout and soak in the tub in peace before going to bed."

"I don't mind doing it." Granny persisted, gazing up at Belle on the other side of the table.

Belle held up her hand to Granny. "No, no, honestly, the sooner I get home, the better. I just want to get in the tub, soak and go to bed."

A small smile tugged at the edges of Granny's mouth. "Well, I can't blame you for wanting that."

Edging round the table, she bent over, resting a supportive hand on Granny's shoulder, and gave Granny a peck on the cheek, then told her as she stood up straight. "Thank you, Granny. I really do appreciate what you try to do for me."

Granny reached for the hand on her shoulder and patted it. "You're one of my girl's, Belle. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Belle stooped down again and pressed a much firmer kiss to Granny's cheek, touching Granny's other cheek with her right hand. "I love you, Granny."

"Go on, get home before you make me cry." She ordered, waving Belle off, but told her when she was a couple of feet away from the table. "Don't forget to bring lover boy round, though. I've got to give him the once over, if he's going to date one of my girls."

Raising her eyebrows at Granny's comment, Belle said. "I'm… sure he'll be delighted…"

"So will Bertha, if he doesn't measure up." The grin on Granny's face said it all.

She shook her head in disbelief at Granny, while ambling through the tables in the diner to the two-way door into the kitchen, only stopping once she was through the door. Her small smile wavered as she glanced back, not really looking for Granny. The lies she told, had easily spilled from her mouth. Lying used to be so foreign, yet it was becoming second nature. She didn't take it as a good thing, but there wasn't much choice. Mr Gold had been right. The speculation of them being together, would've gone around the town like wildfire and not many people would've liked the truth. Mainly, her father and Granny.

Although, what was really troubling her, was the subject of her father. For Granny to offer a roof over her head, it must have been obvious that the two of them weren't getting along anymore. It was getting harder to see the man she considered her father. She doubted she had said more than a couple of words to him. Avoiding any chance of having a conversation with him. Blocking out the snide comments he threw at her at times, like the other day, when she had come home from Mr Gold's. 'Home early for once? It's about time you started taking life more seriously.'. Take life more seriously? Belle had stopped in the hallway, staring through the doorway at him, laid back in his chair, like he had been when she had left. For a wisp of a second, she had considered he was joking, but nonetheless, she had known better. Buttoning up her lips, Belle had trudged her way up the stairs, had gone into her room, closing the door behind her, and had dropped onto her bed, face-planting herself into her pillow, muffling the long, deep guttural scream she had shrieked.

Bending her head forward, feeling tired and down in the dumps, Belle began to pull the ties of her apron, loosening it from around her waist, as she walked through the kitchen and into the small staff area at the back. She dropped it into the dirty hamper as she entered and trudged the short distance to her locker. The locker clunked as she opened the door, while her gaze immediately dropped to her shoulder bag, sitting at the bottom of her locker. Groaning at the small ache in her lower back, Belle stooped down and grabbed the strap of her bag, and hooked it onto her shoulder after she stood up. Her denim jacket, hooked inside of her locker, was the last thing to collect before she slammed her locker closed.

She pushed open the back door and paused on the doorstep, when the cool evening air caressed her face. Sighing, Belle let go of the door and shuffled down the steps, while the door shut behind her. Her feet had started aching late into the afternoon, protesting against another day spent on her feet, covering and cleaning up after everyone. Now she was heading home, their objections were tenfold what they had been earlier, making each step painful. The alleyway from the back of Granny's to Main Street wasn't that long, but by the time she'd got to the end of it, it felt like she'd walked a mile. Grimacing, Belle started towards home, delving deeper into her thoughts to distract her from the pain.

Her thoughts instantly went to Mr Gold, wondering what he was doing, had he been thinking about her, was he sorry for what had happened, did it mean things were over between them. The latter was the big dilemma. Did she really want things to be over? On the long walk home on Friday, Belle had been adamant, it was what she wanted. She hadn't wanted to see him again. Promised to be cordial with him, but never would she let him near her again.

Although Belle had decided this on her journey home, it appeared her subconscious disagreed with her. After laying her head on her pillow, slowly drifting off to sleep, she had found herself in the basement of the Club, standing in the bar area, surrounded by empty tables and chairs. No one was there. A blink of her eyes, she was then sitting in a roller coaster carriage, with a belt fastened across her lap and the shoulder restraints clicked into place. Gradually, the carriage had begun to move, coasting slowly through the bar area, and had pushed its way through a set of double doors, taking her to the playrooms beyond.

Weirdly enough, each playroom the coaster past was the room they used at the Club. Every room had a different scene, a different position, each played out by them. Things she had never considered before, things she had done with other people, things she had heard others do. As the coaster picked up speed, the setting gradually changed. The alleyway behind a bar, where a stranger had fucked her against wall, had changed to being Mr Gold fucking her against the wall. The time she had awkward sex in the backseat of a sophomore's car, had become them in the back of his Cadillac. The tight fumble in a broom closet, he had replaced the random guy at college. The two guys from her threesome had both become him. Bewildered and completely out of a control, Belle had had no choice, but to hang on as the roller coaster became a blur of sex, with all her fantasies spilling out into her dream.

'Come for me.' His voice had whispered into her ear.

The rollercoaster had abruptly ended and she had shot out of bed, quickly clambering off the foot of the bed, tangled in her covers. When she had looked back at the empty bed, she had half expected to find him laid beside where she had lay, slyly smiling at her, pleased with himself. It had been hard to shake off the feeling he had been there with her. Even when she had convinced herself to go back to sleep, laying in her bed with her eyes closed, covers tucked under her chin, snuggled in close to her pillows, she could feel him behind her.

As Belle followed the curve of the sidewalk into her street, she considered what it would be like, if she did end things with him. She had no doubt, he'd be amiable with her. Life wouldn't change too much. He'd go back to… doing whatever and whoever he did at the Club and she'd spend her Saturday evenings, desperately trying to forget everything on the dancefloor, for the few hours she had free. No one would know what had happened. 'Eddie' would become a distant memory. Leaving Belle exactly where she had been before that fateful afternoon, where Mr Gold had accosted her against a chain-link fence, offering her a chance to delve into Pandora's box.

Sneaking her hand under the large flap of her bag, she dug around for her keys, while deeming Granny had been right. Everything had been fine until she had told him about 'Eddie'. Her brow knitted together as she pulled her hand out of her bag, tightly gripping her keys. Whatever had upset him, had changed him. Whatever it had been, Belle couldn't put her finger on it, which was why Granny was right – She needed to talk to him before she made her final decision.

Belle smiled, when she saw there were no lights on, the usual flicker of colour was missing from the living room window, her father's van wasn't parked at the kerb in front of the house. Quickening her pace, she was sorting through her keys as she turned to take the path up to the front door and was ready with her key, when she reached the door. A swift turn of the key and Belle breathed out a sigh of relief, quickly kicking off her pumps, while she closed the door behind her. Shrugging off the strap of her bag, she caught it before it fell off her arm and hooked her bag onto the end of the stairs. As she returned her keys and retrieved her phone from her bag, Belle bit her lower lip, while she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, uselessly trying to ease the ache in her feet. She needed new shoes, but it would have to wait until next month. All her spare cash had gone to paying the increase in rent and the extra shopping she had to buy at the beginning of the week. Using her money upstairs was an option, but she'd rather her feet bleed than break into it.

You never knew what was around the corner.

While she climbed the stairs, Belle unlocked her phone and rang Chung-Pow's, the only Chinese in town. They answered on the third ring, 'Chung-Pow's', the cheerful Chinese woman greeted. Her voice always made Belle smile. Giving her order – Kung Po chicken with house fried rice and two spring rolls. She could never eat it all. Leftovers always became lunch the following day.

Discarding her phone to her bed as she dropped to sit on the edge of it, Belle pulled the hem of her blouse free of her skirt and took it off, over the top of her head, slinging it vaguely in the direction of the hamper. She grunted as she lifted her legs up in turn, taking off her flimsy socks, which hardly covered her feet, and dropped them onto the floor. Sat there, on the edge of the bed, Belle took a second to consider Granny's offer as her eyes wandered around her room. The wallpaper, she'd helped her mother hang in her room, was peeling from the walls and littered with odd marks and tears, from moving furniture around the room. Her mother's jewellery box, the pasta necklaces they made hung off the edge of the mirror, the last book her mother bought her sat dog-eared on her nightstand, the curtains they had hung together and fell onto the bed, into a spontaneous tickling war. So many memories her gaze touched upon. Memories that would be lost, or would never be the same again, once she left this room for good. Staying here for her father's sake had died a long time ago. Being here was the closest she could get to her mother, but it was slowly costing her.

She shook her head at her thoughts as she stood up, determined she could do it. There was no doubt in her mind that her father loved her, as much she loved him. The deep rut they had dug themselves into over the years, was getting too much, but she couldn't give up on him. He needed her, whether he knew it or not. Which was why she had to stay. If she didn't, who else would her father have? How far would he spiral down into the bottomless pit he was creating for himself?

Belle couldn't abandon him.

Consciously, she put her thoughts to one side, boxing up and filing away Granny's sincere offer, while she twisted her skirt around her waist, unzipped and dropped it to pool at her feet. Stepping out of the skirt, Belle unhooked her silk dressing gown from the back of her door and crossed the landing into the bathroom. She slid her arms into either arm of the gown as she entered the bathroom, leaving it undone and to hang loose, whilst she bent over the bath and plopped the plug into the drain hole, and turned on the taps to fill the bath. Standing over the bath, Belle picked the lavender bath soak off the shelf above the bath, the same her mother used to buy, and poured an ample amount to mix in with the gushing water. She held the bottle to her nose, breathing in the scent of her mother. There was a momentary need to cry, but Belle squashed it down as she screwed the lid back onto the bottle and returned it to the shelf.

As she left the bathroom and descended the stairs, she wrapped the flaps of her dressing gown around herself, and secured it with a tight bow as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Downstairs was starting to get darker with the sun slowly setting, but she could still see, while she ambled into the kitchen, quietly hissing at the ache in her feet. Above her, she could hear the bath filling as she fixed herself a very strong rum and coke.

Belle took a greedy sip from her drink, whilst she was leaving the kitchen, and squinted her eyes and licked her lips at the strength of the alcohol. 'Maybe, a little bit too strong.', she thought as she took another sip. Her hand touched the newel at the end of the stairs, using it to swing round the end of the banister, when the doorbell rang. She halted and looked at the door, then at the tall rum and coke in her hand. Carefully, she put it down on the stairs and self-consciously checked the flaps of her dressing gown covering her nakedness as she went to the front door.

Opening the door, she peered around the edge of it, half expecting it to be her delivery, but instead found. "Mr Gold?"

He had been glancing over his shoulder, when she had opened the door, looking to the spot where he had parked his Cadillac and where her father usually parked his van, but upon hearing his name, his attention snapped round to face her. "Miss French." The squeeze of his brows together was noticeable. "I'm looking for your father."

"My dad?" She asked, relaxing her hold on the door, fearing what Mr Gold wanted with her father.

His brown eyes dipped, showing more of the white of his eyes, and lured Belle to follow, finding he was looking at her silk dressing gown, her black bra visible through the gown. Quickly, she folded her arms across her chest, blocking the view of her chest, while she straightened her back, hiding her shame.

Belle looked past him into the street, avoiding his gaze, and questioned him. "What do you want with my dad?"

"Just business." He took a step back, half turning, ready to leave. "Nothing to trouble yourself with, Miss French. I'll try and catch him in the morning." And turned his back on her.

"Is that it?" She blurted at him, feeling every bit of the anger she had felt, walking home on Friday night.

Stopping a couple of steps away, Mr Gold angled his head to look back over his shoulder before he pivoted to face her. "Was there something else?"

Her vision reduced down into two tight slits. "Seriously? You're going to pretend Friday never happened?"

"No, but I don't believe it's the sort of conversation that either of us wants to be aired, on your doorstep, for everyone to hear." He stated, rationally.

"You could always come inside and we can discuss it." Belle vehemently suggested, pushing the front door wider as an invitation.

"If that's what you wish." He bowed his head, like some regal gentleman, and motioned for her to precede him into the house, while he retraced his steps to the doorstep.

They held each other's gazes, stubborn blue eyes searching the depths of his unreadable brown eyes. Belle didn't know what she was looking for, or what she hoped to find in them – regret, sadness, anger – but the emptiness of them didn't help the irritation festering in her gut. Gesturing with his right hand, he once again directed her deeper into the house. All the while holding her gaze. Instead of backing up, Belle firmly stood her ground and turned, crossing her arms over her chest, putting her back against the wall, giving him ample room to come into the house.

"Come in then, if you want." She put it to him, making it his choice to come inside.

The left side of his mouth gradually pulled back into half a smirk as he looked at her. A blink of his eyes and his gaze moved to inspect the hallway in front of him. The house was tiny compared to his mansion style house on the outskirts of town. His foyer was double the size of theirs. Probably had five or six bedrooms compared to their quaint two-bedroom house. His front lawn could easily sustain another house with a garden, still leaving him plenty of front lawn. Looking from him to the house, Belle was unexpectedly overcome with uneasiness, embarrassed with the state of their home in comparison to his pristine house. Everything perfectly positioned, not a hint of dust, a home worthy of being on the front cover of a mainstream magazine, whereas theirs hadn't seen a lick of paint for over a decade.

Smoothly, Mr Gold stepped through the threshold and sauntered further down the hallway, giving her room to close the front door. Biting her lower lip, with her hands on the closed door, she wondered if this had been such a good idea. He would see how they lived, see a side of her no one really got to see. She swallowed hard at the thought.

"Where would you like to discuss it, Miss French? Living room, kitchen?" He asked from somewhere behind her. "Or are we going to be uncivilised and discuss it here in the hallway?"

"In the kitchen." She answered him as she turned around and stalked past him down the small hallway into the kitchen.

Edging round the breakfast table in the middle of the room, her gaze flicked around the room, taking in the messy pile of shoes near the back door, the tall stack of potting trays her father had left on a counter, the unwashed plates left in the sink. Everywhere she looked, she could've died, seeing the mess she had been meaning to clean up, but never seemed to get the time with bouncing back and forth between the diner and the shop. Belle placed a hand on the back of a chair at the breakfast table, inwardly cursing herself.

"Shall we sit?" Mr Gold verbally poked her.

After licking her lips and hiding her shame, Belle pulled out the chair, her hand had been resting on, and sat down, tightly wrapping the lower half of her dressing gown around her. Standing behind a chair, he unbuttoned his suit jacket before pulling out the chair in front of him and sat down. As he sat back, lifting one of his legs to cross over the other, his eyes wandered around the room, leisurely taking in the room and its contents. Tightly clutching the flaps of her gown, she held back the urge to throw everything out of the back door, covering up anything that was disconcerting her. Her mother would've been mortified with the state of the room, especially with their landlord, sitting on the opposite side of the table.

Mr Gold's gaze finally landed on her and it was then, she saw something glint in his eye, an emotion – remorse. "Friday night did not end the way I would've liked."

"I don't think either of us wanted it to end the way it did." Belle remarked.

"No…" His voice trailed off before his eyes ventured off somewhere behind her. "And I erm…"

"Were an asshole." She finished for him.

As soon as the word 'ass' came out of her mouth, his gaze was back on her, piercing her with his brown eyes. It was obvious, he didn't like her dubbing him an 'asshole', but he didn't argue it. Instead, he tore his gaze from her and gazed down at his hands resting on top of his knee.

"I overreacted." He calmly stated.

Scrunching her brow at him, she disputed his explanation. "Overreacting is shouting at the top of your lungs, accusing me of using you, throwing me out of your house in the middle of the night. Instead, you were cold and disregarded me, distancing yourself from me, when you said you're not a part of my private life."

"Because you'll get hurt, if you confuse what happens between us with reality." He candidly told her, raising his eyes to meet hers. "I've had enough of these liaisons to know the line can get very hazy and is easily crossed, intentionally or not."

"I didn't say, I told her you were my boyfriend or that I thought of you as my boyfriend." Belle argued his reasoning.

"Hence, my overreaction." He retorted, raising an aimless hand as he made his point.

She leaned forward, bracing her forearms on the table, as she said. "Whatever it was, I don't believe you. I wasn't and I am not confused about our arrangement. Whether you want to tell me or not, there was something else to your reaction and you're not being honest about it."

Something squeezed around her heart, telling her of his deception. Belle wasn't a deluded teenager, who had gotten the wrong end of the stick and had thought they were in a relationship. Their arrangement was so prominent in her mind. That 'This is not a relationship' had become a daily plea to her heart, to control itself and for her imagination to leave out the house and the white picket fence. She was not a child, even if he had spoken to her in such a manner. And it had been this, along with his tone, that had broken the camel's back on Friday night. Her father and Ruby had walked over her for years, she refused to add him to the list. Not when he was meant to be different.

"I am being honest, Miss French. I'm not perfect. I reacted badly to your omission." He bit back at her, a hint of a glare in his eyes.

"Not perfect? You with your fitted three-piece suits, looking immaculate every day, never a hair out of place? Not perfect?" Belle laughed, sitting back into her chair. "Why would anyone get the impression that you're perfect?"

To her though, he was. For as long as she could remember, Mr Gold had been the man she had wanted. The man no one could compare to. The reason why her boyfriends in college never lasted more than a week. He was perfection. It was an insult to hear him lessen the image, she had unknowingly coveted all these years.

"I've never said…" He stopped, turning his head on a strange angle, listening. "Can you hear running water?"

"Running…"

The chair thumped the kitchen cabinet behind her after she jumped up from her chair, and dashed out of the kitchen, catching a whiff of his aftershave on the way out. The smell of him distracted her, causing her to slow her pace and gather her bearings. Running water, bathroom – MOVE. Belle ran down the hallway, swung on the end of the banister like a pole dancer and launched herself up the stairs, knocking over her drink she had poured earlier. She cursed, chanting 'SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!' as she hurried up the rest of the stairs.

Rushing into the bathroom, Belle was carrying so much speed, she almost fell head first into the full bath tub. She fell over herself, trying to get to the tub, and stumbled into the tub, catching herself on the edge of it, unintentionally dipping her elbow into the water. Moaning at her wet silk gown clinging to arm, she turned off the taps. Dejectedly, Belle clambered up onto her feet, inspecting the large expanse of her dressing gown sleeve clinging to her arm, showing her skin colour through the material. She threw up her hands and slapped them down at her sides.

"Great." She muttered to the room.

The surface of the water rippled outwards from the taps, chasing the length of the bath as the overflow drain gulped down the water, threatening to breach the sides of the tub. Rolling her eyes at herself, for being so forgetful, Belle snatched a towel from the rail and dabbed at her drenched arm, feeling a wet patch forming on her side, where her arm had rested. She awkwardly bent herself to look, contorting herself to dry the back of her arm as she did it, tutting at the wet mark, revealing more of her black bra underneath.

"Everything alright?" His voice called up the stairs.

She gave the open doorway a stern look, despite the fact he was downstairs. "Yes, thank you."

As if perfectly timed, the doorbell rang. "Do you want me to get that?"

"No, no!" Belle hastily put the towel back on the rail, askew but on the rail, and hurried out and down the stairs. "I'll get it." She said, quickly pounding down the stairs.

On the third step of the stairs, Belle pulled a face at the wet carpet she trod on, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to right her glass. While she did that, Mr Gold stepped out of her way, clearing the path to the front door, and lingered near the doorway to the living room. Straightening her dressing gown, she paused in at the front door and took a breath. On opening the door, it wasn't until she saw Feng on the other side, she remembered her takeout order.

"Your order, Miss French." Feng said in his distinct Chinese accent, holding up the small plastic bag of takeout for her to see.

"Sorry, Feng, let me grab my purse." She held up her hand to him, beseeching him as she turned away from him and took the single step to her bag hanging off on the banister.

Throwing up the large flap of her bag, Belle pulled out the two books she'd gotten from the library and dropped them onto the stairs. She dug inside the large compartment, pushing aside the mail she'd forgotten to open, pulling out the reusable bag she'd stuffed in after shopping yesterday, grumbling at the tangled earphones, which had tied everything up, holding it all hostage.

"Here, keep the change." Mr Gold said, astonishing her.

Feng bowed his head, taking the crisp bill Mr Gold offered him, and handed him the bag of takeout. "Thank you, Mr Gold. Thank you very much."

"Have a good evening, Feng." Mr Gold gave Feng the briefest of smiles before closing the front door.

"Why did you do that?" Belle questioned, holding her hand out towards the door, while her other hand was being held captive by her earphones. "I was getting my purse to pay him."

He shrugged a single shoulder at her. "It's no bother."

She scowled at him, hating his carefree attitude. "I'll give you your money back."

"Don't worry about it." Mr Gold said as he held his hand up to her.

Shaking her head at him, she renewed the search for her purse, pulling random things out of her bag to dump on the floor. "Thank you very much, but I can afford to buy my own takeout."

"I'm sure you can, but don't worry about it, it's only twenty bucks." He told her, coolly, shifting his weight to his right hip.

Belle found her purse and pulled it out, and was tempted to throw it at his head, as she said. "It might only be twenty bucks to you, but I pay my debts." Shuffling her feet, turning to face him, she snapped open her purse, unfolding the money section, and said, while pulling out a twenty-dollar bill, the last of her money. "And I wouldn't want to get the terms of our relationship confused."

Whatever the expression had been on his face, it melted to nothing, while he looked at her. She held the dollar bill out to him, waiting patiently for him to take it. The muscles around his left eye twitched, partially closing his eye. He held her gaze, his beautiful brown eyes detached as he stared. It felt like ages until he raised his hand and took the money from her, stuffing the bill into his pocket, while offering her the plastic bag of takeout. Belle hooked her fingers around the thin plastic handle, brushing her small fingers against his larger ones, taking in a sudden breath at the contact.

"Enjoy your food and the rest of your evening, Miss French." Mr Gold said, while letting go of the bag, breaking their connection.

Raising an eyebrow at him, she watched him turn away and reach for the lock on the front door. "Is that it?"

He stepped back, swinging off his hand on the door, to face her. "What do you expect from me?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe an apology. You know, you could try one of those, or we could go back into the kitchen and talk." Belle submitted to him, gesturing to the kitchen. "Unless, you're uninterested, then you can leave and go fuck yourself." She informed, indicating the front door with her hand holding the bag of takeout. "It's up to you."

Belle didn't wait for his response. Turning away from him, she stalked off to the kitchen, drawing a line through the situation. If he wanted to be an asshole, he could do it somewhere else. No matter what Granny had said, whatever his reasons, if he couldn't meet her halfway what was the point. For too long, too many people had walked over her, used her and taken her for granted. She could've stood there and begged him, pleaded with him to see sense, but she was done putting someone else first. The fear of losing everyone wasn't a good enough excuse anymore. If they really cared, if they really wanted her, then they could go out of their way for her. If not, then they could all go to hell, especially the man she'd gladly give her heart to, if he asked for it.

She was done, enough was enough.

"Fuck it!" Belle mumbled under her breath as she put her takeout down on a counter and turned to get a plate out of the cupboard.

It was as she reached up into the cupboard, her fingertips touching the cool surface of the plate, Belle heard the front door open. Without thinking, she held her breath, intently listening for any sounds – footsteps, the squeak of the hinges, the final click of lock returning home after the door shut. Though she was done, a silent prayer was sent out, hoping for once in her life, someone would choose her over everything else. For so long, she had sacrificed for everyone – her father, Ruby, Granny, the girls at work. Everyone else came first, why couldn't she?

The front door finally closed, the door lock firmly clicking into place, leaving her alone in the house. Closing her eyes, bowing her head forward, she hated herself for hoping. Even if he was supposed to be different, to be the one, it wasn't reality what she wanted. Nothing ever was.

Belle opened her eyes as she retrieved the plate from the cupboard and closed the door, consciously deciding to get on with her evening. She wouldn't have much time now. Placing the plate beside her takeout bag, she parted the plastic handles and peeked into the bag, taking in the carton of takeout and the small paper bag of spring rolls. With a heavy sigh, Belle reached into the bag and first took out the carton, setting it down on the plate, and picked out the bag of rolls. Her right ear twitched, picking up a sound before movement out of the corner of eye caught her attention. Mr Gold waltzed into the room, his right forefinger pressed to his lips, his gaze focused down on the floor. Standing by the counter, the paper bag in her hand, Belle was momentarily stunned to see him in her kitchen.

He took his finger away from his lips and wagged it through the air as he spoke. "I may have been an asshole on Friday, but that doesn't give you the right to tell me to go fuck myself."

"Really?" She asked in disbelief, shifting her weight on her hips. "From everything that's been said, you're upset, because I told you to go fuck yourself?"

"Am I not allowed to get irritated by that?" He asked, his tone clear he didn't care for her response. "I was being civil with you, even when you called me an asshole." He stated, pointing his finger at the breakfast table. "I've admitted I was wrong, I overreacted, but you wanted to argue about it and got personal."

Belle couldn't help the hard laugh that came out of her mouth before she said. "Personal? How could I possibly get personal, when you reminded me so well on Friday, you're not a part of my life? I don't know you. I couldn't possibly make something personal."

In one swift movement, Mr Gold reached across the small kitchen and grabbed her by her arm, and yanked her towards him, swinging her round to slam her backwards into the tall fridge, earning him a grunt from her. Her bag of spring rolls sat in the middle of the floor, while he lifted her arms and pinned her wrists to the fridge, either side of her head. The warmth of his breath washed over her face as the smell of his cologne swamped her senses. Bending over, bringing himself to her height, his firm chest squished her breasts, pinning her flat against the front of the fridge. Their noses touched for a fleeting moment on each breath, while their eyes bore into each other with an intensity that shouldn't have been there.

"I didn't mean it like that!" He hissed through his crooked teeth. "For what we're doing, I don't need to know if you've got a boyfriend!"

She held his gaze as she contradicted him. "If it didn't matter, you wouldn't have given me the cold shoulder, when I told you what I'd been telling Ruby. You would've listened and talked to me about it, because 'communication is key to a good partnership'."

His upper lip lifted slightly into a snarl, making the scar wider on the right side of his mouth. An intense fury burned brightly in his eyes. Belle could clearly see in his face; she had touched a nerve, repeating what he had said to her on Friday night. Around her wrists, painfully his grip tightened. She wanted to hiss at the pain, pull her wrists free, but she found herself enjoying it. The tight band around her wrist stung, his fingertips dug into her skin, while her hands began to tingle at the lack of circulation getting to them. He had her exactly where he wanted. She would've been completely at his mercy, yet she didn't feel like that. Having him so close, his upper body pressed against her, Belle could feel her blood thrumming through her veins, excited for what he was going to next. Completely and utterly trusting him.

Slanting his head to the side, Mr Gold inclined his head forward and whispered into her ear. "I didn't like the idea of you having a boyfriend."

Her breath shuddered at his omission, caught off guard with his pure honesty. Breathing in deeply, the smell of him went straight to her head, intoxicating her, making her feel lightheaded. Tilting her head in his favour, their cheeks touched with traces of his stubble scratching her soft skin. The ends of his short greying hair tickled the tip of her nose as she nuzzled her face into his, loving the feel of his stubble.

"God, I want to fuck you right now." He confessed, easing his grip around her wrists.

"Fuck me then." She whispered back to him.

Leaning back, it was the first time ever, she had seen a confused look on his face. "What? Here?"

"Why not?" Belle questioned.

In retort, his eyebrows lifted at her as he said. "I just didn't think you'd want to…"

"Do you want to fuck me or not, Mr Gold?" She forcefully put it to him, curling an eyebrow at him.

"Well… When you put it like that…" The wickedest of smiles graced his lips before he lunged himself forward, burying his face into the crook of her neck, deliberately kissing the sensitive kiss around her pulse point.

Her knees weakened, causing her to slump down the front of the fridge, bearing her weight against him and on his hands pinning her wrists to the fridge. Humming at the sensation, Belle angled her head to the side, giving him more access to her neck. He didn't waste the opportunity. Greedily, he sucked, nipped, kissed, licked at every bit of her exposed skin. As he worked down the slope of her neck, his right hand let go of her wrist and ghosted down her arm, caressing her with the lightest of touches through the sleeve of her silk gown, sending a thrill of a sensation down her arm. The fridge bucked back with Belle, clunking into the wall behind it, while his fingers teased back one side of her gown, baring the curve of her neck and part of her chest to him.

He stooped down in front of her, following her neck down to her collar bone. Her free hand found the back of his head, encouraging and trapping him, unable to bear the thought of him stopping. Feeling his lips, his tongue, the grating of his teeth on her skin, sent shockwave after shockwave through her body. Every one of them centring down deep in her core. Rubbing her thighs together, she didn't need to touch herself to know she was already wet for him. The floodgates had opened as soon as he'd said, he wanted to fuck her.

The tie around her waist loosened, distracting her from the tip of tongue tracing the evident line of her collar bone. His nails clawing the length of her shoulder, hooking her bra and the collar of her gown out of the way, made her moan and butt her head back against the fridge. He let go of her other hand and moved the other side of her gown aside, exposing her half naked state to him. Stepping back, he held the flaps of her gown out. She'd imagine a lot of women would feel self-conscious. She had been herself, with some of the men she had been with in the past, yet not with him. Even the first time they'd had sex, Belle had only been slightly awkward in the beginning, foolishly trying to cover herself up to him. And even when she did that, she hadn't felt judgement from him, just acceptance.

Letting go of the left side of her gown, which was half hanging off her shoulder, Mr Gold peeled back the cup half covering her breast and leaned over. She breathed in, preparing herself for the rush as he teased her nipple, took it into his mouth and flicked at it with his tongue, while sucking at her breast. First, there was a gentle peck to the rump of her breast, then another, followed by another, following a small path across her breast. Tilting her head down, Belle observed him as he did the same to the crescent moon of jagged marks, he'd given her last week. Then, in a swift turn of his head, Mr Gold did exactly what she had been expecting, taking the whole of her nipple into his mouth, piercing his teeth into her flesh as he sucked and teased her nipple, taking all of the strength out of her legs. As if knowing what would happen, he gathered her into his arms, hooking an arm under her backside, and picked her up. Instinctual, Belle wrapped her legs around him, letting out a moan at the pleasant pressure on her clit.

She hung onto him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, a fist holding onto the back of his head again, while he staggered the short distance and perched her on the edge of the counter. Her backside bumped the dirty dishes in the sink, causing a chorus of chinks. Neither of them acknowledged the noise, or even looked to see what it was. Mr Gold simply moved to her other breast, pulling the cup out of the way, and devoured her breast. Her hips jerked towards him, grinding her core into his waistcoat covered stomach. Her arousal was building quickly, so much so, a few more jerks of her hips against his stomach and she'd orgasm.

"Oh, God…!" Belle moaned, lulling her head back, hating and loving that he knew how to touch her.

The sharp tug at her breast, sent her hips thrusting forward, striving for contact with him, grinding herself into his stomach. It wasn't a conscious act as her hips rocked back, seeking him out again. Wanting more of him. Desperate for him to be inside of her, filling her. The image of him fucking her over the desk in his study entered her mind. A pulse of pleasure burst from her core, travelling like a wave through her body, rebounding back from the tips of her toes, the top of her head and the ends of her fingers, rushing like an express train straight back to her core.

"Please," She begged. "Fuck me."

With a life of their own, her hips thrusted towards him and he drove himself into her, increasing her pleasure, letting her dry hump against him. His arm around her back slipped lower and encouraged her hips, guiding them into him, whilst he met every thrust, sucking harder and biting firmer into her right breast. Belle cried out at the pleasure as she came, grabbing a fistful of his suit jacket. Shamelessly, she grinded herself into his stomach, driven only by the sensations pulsating out from her centre.

"That's it." Mr Gold reassured her after releasing her breast. "Take your pleasure."

It didn't feel as good as it did, when Mr Gold fucked her, but it was still as mind-numbing as the ones he had given her. Closing her eyes, Belle could feel herself smiling at him as she savoured her high. Everywhere felt hypersensitive, even his arm sliding out from behind her, sending a jolt of intense pleasure to the junction of her thighs.

Her eyes blew wide open, feeling his fingertip slide along the edge of the knickers, tracing it down between her thighs. Lowering her gaze to him, Mr Gold knelt on the floor, his gaze on her essence as he pushed her knickers aside, revealing her wet core to him. He leaned forward to breathe in the scent of her musk. There was no hesitation from him before he smothered his face into her. Bracing her hands behind her, Belle sucked in an almighty gasp, whilst she opened her legs wider for him. He placed his hand on the inside of her left thigh, pushing it further, as his tongue flicked through her wet folds, grazing her clit. Her arms wobbled. It was too much, but not enough at the same time.

"Mmm…" He hummed, inclining back on his heels. "You always taste so good." He commented and eagerly delved back, shoving his tongue through her folds again.

She breathed in a sharp breath through her nose, narrowing the passages, while she watched him, feeling his firm tongue probed into her entrance. He slurped as he hungrily licked up her essence, pushing his tongue deeper each time. None of the men she'd been with previously had been as keen as Mr Gold. To them, oral was just foreplay. Course, they'd been willing to do it, but never did it like he did, taking his time and always making her come. Other guys would've stopped as soon as they felt she was wet, thinking of nothing but getting their dicks in her. Whereas Mr Gold became predacious, feasting on her like it was his last meal.

His tongue traced a hot path of sensation through the folds of her sex and ended at her clit, where the tip of his tongue began a barrage of swipes at her clit. Belle didn't know what to do. Her body screamed for help, the onslaught too intense for it to handle, while her hips jerked erratically at him, frantic to keep pace with him. With each thrust of her hips, the closer her butt got to the edge of the counter, but she was too far gone to worry. All that mattered was the man between her thighs, face buried in her pussy, licking her out like she was a delicious popsicle, and the fierce tension building deep in her core.

When a single finger easily slid into her, she choked on her breath and threw her head back with her mouth gaping open, feeling him push into her until his finger was completely hilted inside of her. Reaching for him, her hand located the top of his head, grabbing a fistful of his short hair. Her whole body swayed in time with him, propelling her hips forward to impale herself onto finger. She was hardly aware of his hand slipping around her hip, cradling her thigh in the crook of his arm, supporting her as her butt left the counter. Balancing her right foot on the back of her chair from earlier, she supported herself, struggling with the task, while he pounded his finger into her, matching the pace of his tongue flicking back and forth.

On the next stroke of his finger, Mr Gold added another finger, stretching her channel. The rhythm of his fingers and his tongue became a blur, morphing into the perfect duet. Neither of them missed a beat. Belle couldn't think of anything else, but keeping time with him, obeying the increasing tempo set by his fingers. Her pants for breath became a weak beat underneath the harmony of their movements. With everything blending together – his fingers plunging in and out of her, his tongue flicking back and forth, the fact it was Mr Gold's head between her thighs – Belle was reaching the precipice of no return. She held her breath. Waiting for it. Urging it to come. Impatient. Frantic. Distraught. Feeling a hundred different emotions and nothing at all, all at the same time. Driven mad by his… Suddenly his mouth closed around her clit, sucking at the pink pearl as he continued to caress it with his tongue.

"HAH!"

Gasping up at the ceiling, Belle orgasm ripped through her body, bursting out from her core, curling her toes and tensing every muscle in her body. The arm behind her gave out, sprawling her backwards onto the counter. The dirty dishes in the sink chinked and clunked as they shifted underneath her, accommodating her, whilst the spout for the taps stuck into her side. Her head rested on top of the only surviving plant of her mother's, but Belle didn't care. The pleasure was so intense, she felt like she was floating away. Soaring high into the sky, leaving Storybrooke and all her worries behind her.

Mr Gold drove his tongue through her wet folds again, lapping up all the seeping moisture of her orgasm. Each stroke of his tongue sent a new wave of euphoria through her body, substituting the wind beneath her wings, keeping her floating above the clouds. Her limbs felt so heavy, so clumsy, as she tried to grasp for something, for him. Needing something to keep her connected with the ground.

Before he stood up, using the edge of the counter to aid, he gave her pussy one slow, deliberate lick, starting below her anus, drawing a fiery line up through her inner lips, giving her vulva one final flick of his tongue. The sharp jolt of sensation was the anchor she needed, bringing her hurtling back down to her body, as he grabbed her hand and let go of her leg, pulling her off the counter. Her legs buckled and unsteadily Belle fell against him, clutching at his suit jacket. Their chests pressed against one another. Holding her steady, his hands on her sides, the heat of his hands burned through her silk dressing gown. Tilting her head back slightly, she looked up at him, holding his gaze. The smell of his musk on his face was strong. Her eyes lowered momentarily to his lips, secretly yearning to kiss him, to taste herself on his mouth, to make him as breathless as he made her. Just thinking about him, his mouth, his hard cock pressing into her stomach, she was panting. Entirely enthralled with the man of her dreams.

As Belle splayed her hands and smoothed them up his suit jacket to his face, the distinct sound of someone putting their key in the front door popped the bubble and broke the spell over them. They both looked to the doorway leading to the hallway, both hearing the same thing. The latch clicked back before there was the smallest of squeaks, signalling the front door was being opened.

"SHIT!" Belle cursed in a loud whisper as she yanked Mr Gold by the lapels of his suit jacket to the back door. "QUICK!"

She yanked on the lapels of his suit jacket and shoved him towards the back door, peering over her shoulder as she closely tailed, her hands pressing onto his back. Too preoccupied with hearing her father enter the house, Belle hadn't noticed Mr Gold had reached the back door and bumped into him, knocking him forward into the door. He glared over his shoulder at her, but the mischievous grin on his face, gave away that he wasn't annoyed with her.

"Belle!" Her father called out as she heard the front door close.

Pressing her lips together, she fought with the urge to call out, whilst she peered over Mr Gold's arm to check on his progress with the door lock. It wasn't complicated. The key was always in the back door. A simple key, a simple lock, it should've just been a simple twist of his wrist and the door was unlocked. Yet, it seemed to be the most complicated lock in the world. It was probably no more than a few seconds, but they stretched into minutes as she watched him turn the key in the lock.

"Belle?" Her father shouted up the stairs.

Click – The back door flew open and the black blur of Mr Gold's suit vacated the house. Closing the door after him, she accidentally slammed it in her hast to shut it.

"Belle?" Her father's voice called. "Is that you?"

"Yes, dad!" She answered quickly in a higher voice.

"What the hell is Gold's car doing outside? Has he been here? Looking for me?" Her father inquired loudly, his voice coming closer.

Looking down at herself, her breasts were bulging up into her face with her bra trapped underneath them, her silk gown hung partially off her left shoulder and was gaping open. She swore under her breath, while she yanked up on her bra, rehoming her breasts, and wrenched her dressing gown closed, and fought to fasten the tie before her father found her.

"What are you doing?" He questioned.

Spinning round to face him, Belle nervously smiled across the kitchen at him. "Nothing."

Her father's forehead was riddled with lines of interest as he queried her, pointing to the back door behind her. "What were you doing outside, dressed like that?"

Her head snapped down to take in her attire before she shrugged her shoulders at him. "I took some trash out that was in my room. Why?"

"Because you're practically naked underneath that." He held his hand out to indicate her. "I can clearly see your underwear!"

"No one can see me in the backyard!" Belle argued.

Her father shook his head at her. "How can you be so stupid? I would've thought, my own daughter, would have more sense than you do."

"Excuse me?" She was taken aback by his flippant comment.

He waved his hand at her, dismissing her, as he turned to leave, saying. "I'm not wasting my breath on you."

Opening her mouth to say something, her words failed her as her father disappeared into the hallway, swallowed up by the darkness descending on the house. In the dim light of the kitchen, Belle was discarded by her father.

Tightly clenching her hands down at her sides, she breathed in heavily through her nose, closing and clamping her mouth shut, holding back the need to scream. Belle had never been so angry in her life. Her whole body felt alive. A network of fire whirled around her body. She wanted to hit out - kick the cupboards, pound her fists onto the counter, sweep everything off onto the floor. Her muscles were taut bands of elastic ready to twang, hitting out at the nearest object, which she desired to be her father.

There wasn't any thought for her takeout, or the full bath upstairs, as she stomped out of the kitchen. The TV in the living room sprung to life as she neared the door. Unusually, the door was closed. Standing in front of it, Belle heaved in deep breaths. Her nails pressed painfully into the palms of her hands, sweaty from the heat of her temper. It was on the tip of her tongue, clawing to get out of her mouth, begging to be free. She wanted nothing more than to burst through the door, tell him enough was enough and leave for good, taking whatever she could carry and skip town for good. Her eyes went to the door handle, picturing herself opening it, confessing to her father she was sick and tired of him and his attitude, and that she deserved better, before she would fly up the stairs, throw some things into a bag, grab her money from under the bed and be gone before she would change her mind. And that was exactly what she should've done, left him for good.

Except, Belle couldn't bring herself to do it. Stubbornness, loyalty, caring, love - whichever one it was, it wasn't helping her.

Taking in one almighty breath, Belle walked away and went up the stairs, squeezing her hands so tight she was sure she was drawing blood. On entering her room, she shoved the door close behind her and threw herself onto her bed, smothering her face into her pillow to suppress the scream she let rip. It didn't end until her lungs were empty and hurt. Turning her head to the side, she allowed herself to breathe, re-inflating her lungs. She laid there quietly, staring at the picture of her mother and herself on her bedside.

Slowly though, her brow fused together as she realised she didn't want her mother, unlike she usually did. She wanted to be held in his arms, hear his voice tell her everything would be alright, feel the warmth of his body comforting from behind, being with her for the sake of being with her. 'God, I wish he was here.', Belle silently prayed.

Adam squinted as he looked through the magnifying glass, spying at the inner workings of a pocket watch, he was in the middle of dismantling it on his workbench. It wasn't an expensive piece. The movements were pretty simple. A nice cleaning job to fill his evening until it was time to go to the Club. Well, it would've been, if one of the pinions hadn't been missing some of its teeth. Inspecting the rest of the pinions and wheels, he found some more, which were missing some teeth. No doubt damage from the main culprit losing its teeth. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he sat back from the workbench, eyeing the plain silver pocket watch sat on a blue velvet cloth, its inners surrounding it. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, considering his choices.

Shifting around on his stool, he looked at the tubs of spare parts that he kept stacked on the shelving, curious if he had any spare parts to replace the damaged ones. Adam slipped off his stool, took a short step to the shelving and looked through the see-through containers, judging at a glance if they would fit. He was near the bottom of the stacks, when the pile of damaged books caught his eye.

After Friday night, Adam had thought it would be over and Belle wouldn't have wanted anything more to do with him. How could he blame her? His tone was uncalled for. It made sense to have a cover story. Sure, it wasn't the cover story he would've chosen, but it did make perfect sense. Even if he did feel foolish afterwards, sat at the bottom of his stairs, surveying the mess he had made with their wine glasses in the foyer. For two weeks, he had been jealous of her 'boyfriend'. Peeved that another man was sharing her, when really, he had her all to himself. Had marked her and fucked her to the point of oblivion to make her 'boyfriend' envious of him. Yet, the joke had been on him the whole time – He was the boyfriend, technically.

Resting his left hand on the shelf in front of him, he wasn't proud of his behaviour. He had no right to be jealous. It wasn't something he had ever been before. With Cora, he had seen it as a rivalry, easily one upping her husband, whose idea of kink was to take off his socks. Adam hadn't laid claim to Cora, either. Seeing her with other people had been a part of the thrill of being with her. Watching her lap up the attention. Jealousy hadn't been a part of their relationship, or any of his other relationships. Not even when he had found out Milah had been cheating on him.

He lowered his gaze to the plastic tub of pocket watch parts, still struggling to understand why it was different with her. It would've been easier to end things. Adam could've walked out of her house, got in his car, gone home and written it up to experience. Except, it had been a struggle to think clearly with her wearing her dressing gown, a hint of her underwear showing through.

Thinking about their predicament over the weekend, Adam had decided the best course of action was to end things with her, apologise but end things before things got out of hand. The fact he had already gotten jealous was enough for him. Their arrangement was an education, to show her things she'd never imagined, while stealthily bringing out the strong woman hiding beneath the surface. Feelings weren't a part of their deal. With that in mind, he had bided his time, waiting for a convenient time to discuss it with her. Course, he could've done it on Monday, when he'd seen her having her lunch outside of Granny's. It hadn't seemed appropriate to do it, when he'd been to inspect the work at Granny's. It would've drawn too much attention. Plus, it hadn't felt right to disturb her day. That's what he'd told himself, convincing himself there would be a better chance to catch her and tell her. It wasn't avoiding her or the conversation, even if he had been ashamed of his behaviour.

Being the more experienced one of them, he should've known better.

Adam took a tub of parts to his workbench and sat down heavily onto his stool, while placing the tub onto the bench, shaking his head in disbelief at himself. Something had happened, when Belle had opened the door. The chance of her being home hadn't occurred to him, when he had left his shop, thinking he'd drop by and try and catch her father, who was clearly avoiding him and his first loan payment.

As his name had tumbled from her lips, he had known there was no escape. He had to face her and get it over with, and end their arrangement. Yet, when he had seen her face, peering round the edge of the door, the guilt and shame he'd felt on Friday night had squeezed his heart, holding it hostage. It didn't matter she had dark rings around her eyes, or the tell-tale smell of Granny's, or the hint of anger she was still coveting - Belle was beautiful. His brow had twitched at the thought, loathing himself for more improper thoughts and feelings.

"Idiot." Adam mumbled to himself as he delicately picked out a small pinion from the tub and placed it down next to one of the same size.

A small part of him had hoped she might have let him off the hook, let him walk away and not have to address the issue between them. He had been foolish to think she would. Even playing it cool, hadn't done him any favours, the anger he had seen on Friday, was in her eyes, when he had turned back to face her. There was no mistaking her tone either, she had been annoyed with him, and rightly so. Adam wouldn't have accepted anyone talking to him in the manner he had used on Friday. A small smirk curled the corners of his mouth as he recalled it, impressed she wasn't afraid for him.

Obviously, their encounter had very much not been what he had expected. The civil exchange had been… Charged. Belle's tone didn't relent through their conversation and he hadn't been able to help himself and had risen to her tone. It would've been for the best, if he had left after her food arrived, giving her some more time to calm down and himself time to rethink his approach. However, when she had told him to 'go fuck yourself', it had struck him low in his gut. Adam refused to acknowledge why it had hit him so hard. It wasn't the first time, it wasn't the last time, but this time, it hurt. And then, Belle had walked away from him, dismissed him like he was nothing, like it didn't matter to her which he chose, she was tired of him. It would eventually happen, just like it had with everyone else. Even knowing this, his heart had lurched out of his chest, desperate to go with her.

Traitor.

Things had escalated quickly. No matter how much he had tried to stay cool and level headed, Belle's sass had aggravated him, like no one else had before. Having her pin to the fridge, several thoughts had gone through his mind, but he couldn't shake the need to have her. Though her lip had annoyed him, on another level it had aroused him and with her body pressed against his, the burn of her temper in her eyes, her hint of her natural smell underneath the smell of Granny's, had undone him.

Telling the truth was not something Adam did. It was normally held captive, locked away until it became a useful tool. Bending it to his will was what he did best. Being honest exposed him, which was why he concealed it. He didn't share things with Neal unless he had no other choice. Milah had never cared for the truth, indifferent to anything involving him. There had once been a thought of being candid with Cora, peeling back a layer of armour and letting her get close. However, with Belle, there had been no thought about it. The truth had spilled so easily from him, revealing more to her than he had to anyone in his life.

That scared him, but thankfully, she'd had no clue how vulnerable he had been with her.

As he was taking a large wheel out from the plastic tub, the message alert tone shrieked from his suit jacket. Adam glimpsed at his suit jacket, hanging on the coat stand near the back door of his shop, while he placed the wheel down beside the one he thought it would match. Leaning over slightly, he eyed the two parts, squinting his eyes, whilst he put the tub down on the bench. Happy enough with them, Adam swivelled on his stool and tugged down his waistcoat as he stood up, hearing his phone beep again. He was at his suit jacket in two strides and pulled back the left side of his jacket to retrieve his phone. The screen was lit, twenty-one thirty-one boldly sat at the top of the screen with a small bubble underneath, encircling the notification message from the Club. Staring hard at the time, Adam couldn't believe the evening had gotten away from him.

Whilst pocketing his phone into his trouser pocket, Adam shuffled his feet to move close to the back door and clicked the stay on the Yale lock before reaching up to slide across the deadbolt. As he turned to go, he unhooked his suit jacket and quickly put it on as he headed to the front of the shop, straightening his collar, while he slid through the gap formed from the tied back curtain. Swiftly, he diverted to the side door and slid the dead bolt across the top of the door after turning the key in the lock. Pocketing his bunch of keys in his suit jacket pocket, Adam sauntered along the back of the counter, absently glancing at the musical instruments hanging on the wall.

When he rounded the corner at the end of the counter, his pace slowed as he approached the front door of his shop. A small thought whispered to him, drawing his gaze to the curtained doorway over his shoulder. Though they'd arranged to meet at the Club as usual, he was still apprehensive about continuing. He didn't like being out of control. The more he was with Belle, the more he felt himself getting drawn into her. Feeling things, he shouldn't be considering. Things that had never been on the cards for Adam and he had accepted it a long time ago… Being with her made him wonder, a little too much, about things he couldn't have.

Turning his gaze to the front door of his shop, he ignored the heaviness nestled in his chest, which was tightly embracing his heart. Adam reached for the door handle, declining to recognise what was fighting, tooth and nail, to be admitted. There wasn't any leeway for sentiments in their agreement. It was a deal, like any other. Both parties would get what they wanted at the end of it, and they would, hopefully, part on amicable terms and life would go on as it was before. It was pointless to consider anything else. He had learnt his lesson with Cora. The women who had been in his life had only wanted him, if he had served a purpose and then he'd be discarded.

Unwanted by everyone – his father, Milah, Cora… She'll do the same, once their arrangement is complete.

Bowing his head, he hated being weak. That's what she had done to him, made him corruptible. If it had been anyone else, Adam would've broken their arrangement, belittled them back into their place and left without a second thought. Yet with her, he blatantly couldn't do it. Just like he hadn't been able to control himself, letting his own desires get the better of him. Eating her out like his life depended on it. And if… that strange moment hadn't happened, Adam would've thoroughly fucked her on the breakfast table.

Adam snatched open the door of the shop and left before he changed his mind, or began to mull over why his heart fluttered at the thought of seeing her. Firmly pulling the door closed, he locked it and paused, peering through the blind covering the other side of the door. Common sense dictated, he should unlock the door and call it all off. End things before it was too late. Yet as he dwelled on it, Adam suspected, it was already too late for him.

The drive from his shop to the Club was much shorter than the drive from his house. The Cadillac purred through the streets and easily coasted up the long winding bends heading out of town. Easing his foot off the gas, Adam let the car slow itself around the final and dropped the signal to indicate his left turn. The turning slowly appeared on the left. The dirty red brick bled through the foliage that had long ago grown over the brick walls, either side of the gateway. It was easy to overlook the driveway, if you were driving out of town at speed, whizzing past in a blur. As Adam slowly applied pressure to the brakes, he watched a blue BMW sports car turn into the driveway ahead of him. The roar of its four-litre engine opening up, tearing up the driveway, reverberated through the surrounding forest and suppressed the contented purr of his Cadillac. Turning in after them, he followed them at a leisurely pace, shaking his head at them.

When the hedgerow ended, revealing part of the gardens, Adam examined the front of the Club for a parking spot. Already the front looked rather full, forcing the remaining guests arriving late to park at the side of the building. The blue BMW let out another roar and flew across the front of the mansion and down the side, hunting for a spot. Rolling by the entrance, there were guests loitering in the foyer, huddled into groups, waiting to be ushered downstairs. Breathing out heavily, he loathed arriving with everyone else, or worse, late.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and went the opposite way around the parking lot to the BMW, and threw the Cadillac into the first available spot he saw. As he got out of the car, squeezing through the narrow gap, he glared at the car beside him, grumbling under his breath. Still eyeing the car with intent, Adam straightened his clothing and fished his keys out of his work keys out of his pocket, and stowed them in the pocket of his car door before he finally shut the door.

Whilst he climbed the steps of the foyer, Adam fastened the top button of his suit jacket and self-consciously touched his tie before tugging on his right sleeve, then his left. The hushed chatter of the guests was loud as he entered, looking instantly to the right for Steve or any of the other doormen. The younger man, Giles, stood at the podium. Sauntering over to the younger man, Adam glanced at the other people, wondering why they hadn't gone downstairs yet as he slipped by a couple lurking near the wall.

"Mr Heaton." Adam greeted the younger man.

Giles jumped, knocking a pen off the podium. "What… Eh… Oh! Mr Gold!" He paused to look down at the pen on the floor and said, looking up to Adam. "I'm so sorry, sir."

"It's okay…" Eyeing the young man over the podium as he bent over to pick up his pen, Adam held back his smirk. "I wanted to check if my guest has arrived."

"Your guest." Giles repeated.

"Miss French." He supplied her name.

Hunching his brows together, Giles's features became serious as he rhythmically tapped at the iPad before giving Adam his answer. "She's arrived and is waiting in the red lounge."

"Waiting in the lounge?" Adam questioned. "Why is she waiting in the lounge?"

"Mrs Mills said, guests need to be accompanied by the member they're visiting." He timidly informed Adam.

His brow pressed heavily down over his eyes as he said to Giles. "I'm not a normal member, Mr Heaton."

"Yes, sir. I know, sir." Giles hurriedly declared.

Leaning over the podium, Adam softly growled at the younger man. "Next time, I have a guest arrive before me, I expect you to have them escorted to my room and their needs tended to, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Avidly, he nodded his head at Adam.

"And if Mrs Mills has a problem with it, you can tell her to take it up with me, directly." He sneered as he leant back, keeping his voice low and menacing.

"I will, sir." Giles continued to nod his head.

Shaking his head at Giles, Adam ordered him to "Send a drinks cart to my room." as he began to walk away, heading to the right side of the foyer. The guests were starting to funnel into the entrance of the basement, bottlenecking in the small corridor. Excusing himself through them, he escaped into a side room and waltzed through the large sitting room to the red lounge room. As its name revealed, the room was decorated mainly in red. The wallpaper, the curtains, the carpet and the furniture, and even the ornaments had a red element, each a different shade.

As he neared the opening, his stride shortened, hearing voices inside the room. "Oh, darling, I'm sure he'll arrive soon. If not, you could always come and play with us downstairs."

"Yeah, I'm not sure I'm ready for that." Belle confessed with a shy smile.

"Don't worry, Bambi, I'll protect you from their lecherous hands." Cruella crooned, lounging over the back of the couch, leaning in closer to Belle.

A small frown crinkled Belle's smooth forehead, for a second. "I'd rather wait for Mr Gold."

"I can't blame you, child." Cruella told her as she reached across to stroke some hair back behind Belle's ear. "He does have a knack for hitting the right spot."

"You've been with him?" Belle asked, instantly.

"Oh, yes, darling! A long time ago, though." Cruella informed her, airily waving her hand between them.

Stood to one side in the doorway, Adam was reluctant to announce himself, intrigued with their conversation as Belle probed Cruella with another question. "So… He's always been into this?"

Cruella pouted her lips in thought as she pondered Belle's question. "For as long as I've known him." A smile graced Cruella's face as she reminisced. "I was living with Charlie in London at the time." She touched Belle's forearm. "He was a sweetheart. Vanilla, but a sweetheart. He held parties for this sort of thing, because we didn't have clubs in those days. It was very frowned upon."

"And Mr Gold was at one of these parties?" Belle prompted, turning on the couch to face Cruella.

Narrowing his gaze at Belle, his heart thumped loudly in his chest, loud enough it echoed in his ear. Her eagerness was clear in her body language. Studying her, Adam schooled his breathing, refusing to allow his fantasies to run away with him, while he attempted to tame the uncontrollable beat of his heart. So what, if she wanted to know more about him. Everyone in town was hungry to get the dirt on him, exploit his secrets and use them to get one up on him. Why would Belle French be any different?

"Oh, yes, darling. Suzie brought him down from Scotland, one weekend. Introduced him to Charlie and I doubt he ever missed one after that weekend." Cruella shared with her, while opening her small clutch purse to take out her cigarette case and lighter.

Belle leant forward, intrigued with their conversation. "I take it, you and him have...?"

"More than likely." Cruella clicked open her cigarette case and took one out. "It was a blur of fucking in those days for me, darling."

"How did you know you were into this sort of thing?" Belle candidly asked, nervously playing with the strap of her bag in her hands.

Lighting her cigarette, Cruella took a long drag from it and smirked at Belle as she took the cigarette from her mouth, saying. "I'm not a shy one, darling. I tell a man, or a woman, exactly what I want."

"Doesn't always mean, she gets what she wants." Adam chose that moment to cut into their conversation.

Belle instantly straightened her back and snapped her head to look at him, when she heard his voice, a small smile curled the corners of her lips, while Cruella simply put her cigarette to her lips, drew on it and blew out the smoke as she said. "I have them eating out of my hand, like eager little puppies. They're always willing to do my bidding."

"Hmm…" Tucking his hand under his suit jacket, Adam pocketed his right hand into his trouser pocket, while he rested his left hand on the back of a leather armchair. "Didn't quite work on me."

"Well, of course not, darling, you're the exception to the rule." With a wide grin, she tossed her cigarette case and lighter back into the clutch purse. "Not even when you played with Cora, could she corral you into doing exactly what she wanted, all the time. You like it too much your own way."

"What are you still doing here, anyway? Shouldn't you be stalking your next husband, or wife?" Adam asked, smoothly changing the subject.

Cruella held up her hands. "What better hunting ground?" Lowering her hands, she added. "Regina's asked me to organise the exhibition party next weekend."

Belle frowned at Cruella. "Exhibition?"

"That time already." Adam dryly commented at the same time.

"You should come, darling." Cruella addressed Belle, touching her forearm again to emphasise she was talking to her. "There'll be plenty to see – lots of bondage, plenty of fucking – enough to keep your vanilla mind interested." She grinned at Belle, while pinching her cigarette between her lips, sucking another breath from it.

Her blue eyes looked across at him, as though seeking a response from him, but he didn't know the question. Remaining indifferent, Adam stood coolly by the armchair. Unable to get whatever she sought from him, Belle turned her gaze back to Cruella beside her.

"I'm not sure if I'll be able to attend. Depends what's planned for next weekend." She told Cruella.

"Well, if it helps, there'll be plenty of booze." Cruella smiled devilishly at Belle. "Cora's got excellent taste in gin."

He shook his head at her as he said. "You and your booze. You're getting worse."

"Oh, you know me, I never say no to a little tickle." Cruella swung herself towards Belle, quickly closing the gap between them, with her smile becoming predatory. "Pun intended."

"And on that note," Adam lifted his hand off the chair and held it out to Belle. "We'll leave you to go and find your little tickle for the evening." Beckoning her, he called her name. "Miss French."

"It was nice to meet you, Cruella." Belle smiled down at Cruella as she stood up, throwing the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

Cruella took a long draw from her cigarette and slowly blew it out, while her gaze travelled up Belle's slender legs, that disappeared underneath the short red skirt she wore, and continued up, skipping the blouse she wore for Grannies, to her face, and said. "Darling, the pleasure was all mine."

Giving Cruella one more bashful smile, Belle skipped around the large coffee table and swanned past him, glancing to meet his eyes as she did. He crooked an eyebrow at Cruella, while half turning to follow after Belle, knowing Cruella all too well. The woman did have an uncanny ability to get people to do what she wanted. So much so, her third husband was convinced she had brainwashed him.

"Have a good evening, Cruella." Adam imparted as he turned his back on Cruella.

"You still owe me a drink, Adam." She retorted in a sultry tone, causing him to pause on his next step, angling his head to glimpse back at her.

He'd always respected Cruella. She wasn't one to play games, making her plans clear, giving and taking exactly what she intended. Because of that, it made her the perfect partner, whether she was playing the part of submissive or dominant. There had been a time, when he would've invited her to join them, like he had done so many times at Charlie's parties. If he had been with anyone else, for old times' sake, he probably would have invited her, but Belle…

Jealousy or not, Adam wanted her all to himself.

Swivelling round on the balls of his feet, he was confronted with Belle nervously waiting for him, shifting from foot to foot, playing with the strap of her back, sneaking glimpses past him at Cruella. The muscles in his shoulder tensed at seeing her like that. A strong impulse to protect her, to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe, surfaced as he neared her. Hiding a scowl behind a mask, Adam held his arm out and herded her through into the next room, giving Cruella one more look, over his shoulder. Casually lounging on the couch, a cloud of smoke dispelling around her, Cruella looked pleased with herself. Persisting with his indifference, Adam gave Belle a reassuring smile when he turned back to her, gently resting a directing hand on her lower back.

"Cruella seems nice." Belle remarked as they entered the empty foyer.

He looked to the small corridor, leading to the basement, and said as he scrutinised Giles standing near the basement door, tapping away at the tablet in his other hand. "Cruella's Cruella."

"What does that mean?" She inquired, turning her head to look at him.

"As long as your interests align with hers, you're fine." He shared with her, angling his head round to meet her gaze as they reached the stairs.

Belle looked down at the stairs as they started up them, scrunching her brow. "And if they don't?"

"Dog meat comes to mind." Adam joked.

"What?" She asked, stopping on the small landing, leading to the next set of stairs they needed to take, with an alarmed look on her face.

"I'm joking." A small sly smile pulled back the left side of his mouth, amused at how easy it was to pull her leg. "But you've got nothing to worry about. She likes you." He shared with her, while guiding her to take the next set of stairs.

Belle asked him, letting him direct her up the stairs with the hand on her lower back. "How do you know that?"

He crooked his neck to look at her. "Because she was bothering to talk to you. If she had no interest in you, she would've blanked you."

"Oh…" She murmured, looking surprised.

"A beautiful young woman like you, why wouldn't she be interested?" He queried at the top of the stairs.

Belle grinned at him. Ignoring the strong palpitations in his chest, Adam dropped his hand from her lower back and started down the long corridor to their room. The thoughts he had before leaving his shop whispered from the shadows. No matter what fondness he might harbour for Belle, he couldn't allow her to make him vulnerable. The feeble little boy, who had cried for years, desperate to know why he wasn't good enough, had been squashed decades ago. The naïve dreams of love had been conquered long ago. Those kinds of thoughts only brought him pain and Adam rebuffed the chance to revisit them.

At the door of the room, Adam opened it and pushed the door wide, and stepped back, gesturing for her to precede him inside as she came closer. She looked at him, a hint of a smile lingering on her lips. There was something about the way she looked at him, that caused his eyebrows to migrate closer together, forming a small line in his brow. The movement of her lower lip being sucked into her mouth drew his eye. Her top white teeth dug into her lower lip, pinning it into place, while the dimples in her cheeks became more prominent, coloured with shade of rose. The image of his cock sliding in and out of her mouth, the hint of her teeth grating his length, entered his mind, while she coyly dropped her gaze to the floor as she walked by him and into the room. He breathed in deeply, straightening his back. Chasing her with his gaze, Belle wandered further into the room, dumping her large bag onto the nearest couch, while her gaze inspected the drinks trolley.

Smoothing a hand down the front of himself, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He remained by the door, his hand resting on the door handle, watching her as she dug into her bag. How she could be so unaware of the effect she had on him, puzzled him. There she was, organising her things, and he stood less than ten feet away with a throbbing hard-on. He discreetly pulled at his underwear through his trousers, adjusting himself, before he edged into the room.

After she flung the large flap of her bag close, Belle pivoted round to face him, clutching a bundle of her things in the crook of her left arm. "Do you mind if I freshen up first? As you can tell, I've been working at Grannies all day."

"Course." Adam waved his hand to the bedroom. "You know where everything is."

"Thank you." She said, beaming a smile at him before she dashed off into the bedroom.

As he got to the drinks trolley, he heard the bathroom door close in the bedroom and stopped with his hand clutched around the base of an upside-down whiskey tumbler. His mind wandered again, picturing her in the bathroom, unbuttoning her blouse, unzipping her skirt, quickly stripping off her clothes. The distant sound of the shower turning on, made him close his eyes. He could vividly see her, standing underneath the spray of the shower, water smoothing back her hair and cascading down her body. The distinct twitch of his member was not missed as he swallowed and opened his eyes, staring in the direction of the bathroom. Oppressing his desire to join her, fuck her against the wall of the shower, dying to hear her scream echoed around the bathroom.

Picking up the tumbler and flipping it over in his hand, Adam poured himself a large scotch. He pulled at his tie, loosening it, and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. He traipsed across the room to the windows, looking out on the gardens, putting as much distance as he could, between himself and the naked form of Belle in the bathroom. Knowing what she was doing, naked, put him on edge.

Control was something he had in all aspects of his life. His business – the shop, his properties, the loans – he ruled over them with an iron fist. He expected a high standard and satisfying results from his employees. Keeping a close eye on everything, nothing was ever missed. Hiccups were expected and dealt with swiftly. His private life was much the same. Acquaintances were few and far between. Those considered friends were easily persuaded, weaknesses nudged to get what he wanted. At all times, Adam played them all like chess pieces, foreseeing every move, manipulating events to go his way. He had done it with Belle too. Hitting the right button, ribbing her into making the decision he wanted. Yet, no matter how much control he had over everything else, his grasp on his control when it came to Belle was slipping.

As Adam sipped his scotch, looking out on the picturesque gardens, he heard the bathroom door open and her faint voice comment. "That's better."

Though her steps were quiet, he could hear her pad in from the bedroom and she stopped near to where she'd left her bag. He sipped his drink again. Gliding across his tongue, tantalising it with its taste, the scotch burnt at the back of his throat and all the way down, doing nothing to quell his need for her. Inspecting the last of his scotch, Adam swilled it around the bottom of his glass, hearing her soft footsteps move to the drinks trolley.

The glasses on the drinks trolley chinked as Belle questioned him. "What have you got planned for tonight?"

"A few things." He was vague on purpose.

"As long as it makes me forget my tiring week, I'm up for anything." She remarked to him, while pouring herself a drink.

"I could make you forget your name, if you like." Adam murmured under his breath before he knocked back the last of his scotch.

As he pivoted round to face the room, Belle queried him. "Sorry, what did you say?"

He opened his mouth to dismiss her interest, but halted, his mouth gaping open as he stared at her across the room. Her back was to him as she stooped down to pick a can of coke from the selection in the bucket of ice on the bottom shelf. Managing to close his mouth, his eyes roamed from the plait of wet hair, to the steel blue straps of her bra, to the alluring expanse of her lower back, to the thin steel blue strip hugging her high on her hips, with a V-shape cut out of lace at the back, plunging down to disappear between her butt cheeks. Adam anxiously swallowed at the sight of her, fearing the last of his control would disintegrate.

Standing up to her full height, Belle snapped open the can and then picked up her glass, adding the coke to the ice drowned in rum. It was further evidence that she had no clue what she was doing to him. If humans hadn't lost their natural ability to sense danger, Belle would've been running from the room like a gazelle, sprinting down the hallway for her life.

Clenching his hand tightly around his glass, threatening to crush it, Adam held himself back. Stopped himself from throwing her down on the floor, ripping off her underwear, debauching her of all her innocence. His fingertips screamed out at him, frantic for him to ease the pressure. The pain of his grip was the only thing keeping him rooted in the moment. It broke through the haze of his desire, while she finished making her drink, stirring it with the glass stirrer, oblivious to the internal fight for control, happening across the room.

While she sipped her drink, she pivoted round and their eyes met over the rim of her glass. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows squeezed together as she lowered her glass. Narrowing her eyes into a questioning look, Belle held her glass in front of her, then sharply looked down, holding her glass away from where it touched her bare belly.

"Oh!" She smiled toothily at him, spreading her arms out to give him a better look. "I thought I'd treat you, seeing as I literally shoved you out the door, the other night, with a raging hard-on."

"Right…" Adam growled in a low voice.

Raging was not quite adequate to describe it.

After slipping out of the back gate and limping to his car, Adam had given the house one last glance before he had spun round in the middle of the street, and had headed home as quickly as he could. The strain of his underwear and his trousers had made the drive unbearable. The smell of her on his face, the taste of her on his lips and tongue, drove him completely mad on the journey home. It wasn't as if the drive was long, but Adam had to stop and pull into a quiet side street. Roused to the point of madness, there had been no thought of being caught as he had yanked at his belt, fought with the button and zipper of his trousers, tugged down his boxers to free himself, and took himself in hand. Thick, hard and thumping for release. Adam's head had struck the back of his seat as he had begun to jerk himself off, hissing loudly at the contact. As he had pumped himself, thoughts of her had flashed into his mind – on her knees, sucking his cock; sat on top of him, fucking herself down onto him; tied down to a bed, crying out at the orgasm he gave her; sprawled out on the counter, legs spread wide as he mercilessly licked and fingered her. Crunching his stomach, Adam had come hard, spurting his seed over his trousers, the steering wheel, the bench seat of his car. Care for such things had been beyond him as his head had thud the back of the seat again, spent.

Belle sheepishly looked down at herself and self-consciously closed her arms, telling him. "I'm sorry, you had to leave in that state."

"It's…" He licked his lips and swallowed; his mouth too dry to speak. "It's no bother, honestly. It would've been regretful for your father to catch you like that."

There was a miffiness in her eyes as she commented. "I suppose."

Yielding his hold on his hand, feeling more like himself, Adam moseyed to the small sitting area and sat down, saying as he did it. "Don't concern yourself with my needs, Miss French, I'm quite adept at taking care of myself. You only need to concern yourself with learning from the experience."

"Can't I do both?" She asked, drifting to the sitting area.

"Unless prompted, your own satisfaction is the only thing you need to concern yourself with." He told her before raising his glass, spotting as he did that his glass was empty.

"What if that would satisfy me?" Belle probed his reasoning, whilst putting her glass down and taking his empty one from him. "Scotch?"

Hunching his brows down over his eyes, he responded to her offer. "Please." Then requested to know as she strutted away from him, examining the emphasised sway of her hips. "Why would you want to concern yourself with my satisfaction?"

"Because, even though you're leading me through this dark taboo." She began to answer him, while pouring a measure of scotch into his glass, and continued to explain on her way back to him, holding his glass out to him. "To prove to myself and you that I'm learning, is to implement what you're showing me and to do that, I feel you should leave here as satisfied as I am, every time. Otherwise, how will I know if I'm doing it right?"

Angling his gaze up to her, raising an eyebrow, he took the glass of scotch from her. "You have a point."

"Does this please you, then?" Belle asked him, confidently.

Adam held her gaze for a split second longer, then ever so slowly, let his gaze drift down the front of her, taking in the intricate steel blue lace cups of her bra, the lace lining the underneath of her bra, the thin straps stretching down from her shoulders. His gaze ventured lower, across her taut stomach to the V-shaped thong sitting high on her hips. The little ribbon bow fixed at the central point caught his eye, inviting him to rip it off with his teeth. The lace of the thong was see-through, showing the outline of her sex, teasing him to take her again, sprawled her out on the couch and burrow his tongue deep into her pretty little cunt.

Sedately, he took a drink from his scotch and lifted his gaze to hers, telling her as he rested his glass on his right thigh. "It'll please me more, when it comes time for you to take them off." He pointed with his other hand to her drink on the table. "Finish your drink, first."

Both edges of Belle's lips coiled up, pleased with herself. She turned and sashayed the very short distance to the armchair he normally favoured, and sat down, collecting her drink from the table at the same time. Her eyebrow arched as though she knew something he didn't. Rubbing the smooth exterior of his glass with his middle finger, he contemplated her as she drank from her rum and coke. The confidence she was exhibiting was exactly what he wanted to see. Although, he understood, it would take much longer for that to transition into everyday life. And hopefully, when that day came, she'd tell her father to fuck off.

The man didn't deserve her loyalty or love.

Before he got side-tracked onto her useless father, Adam downed the large mouthful of his scotch and got up to return his glass to the trolley, telling her. "I'll go set the room up."

"Okay." Belle said, gazing at him over her shoulder.

Upon entering the room, Adam stopped and looked at the room, locating where the items he'd require were in his mind. Listing the jobs in his head, he headed to the bed, folded up the plush bedspread and put it to one side on one of the chairs in the bay window. Next, he collected the pillows from the bed, big and fluffy, and piled them on the floor beside the chair with the bedspread. With the bed strip down to the mattress, Adam strode to the ottoman and lifted the heavy lid. Spying the other items in the ottoman, he crouched down to easily reach inside, picking out four bundles of red velvet rope, tossing them to the bed. His left hand rested on the edge of the ottoman as he picked out his other toys – a standard riding crop and a soft deep emerald green fluffy flogger with an impact toy. As he stood up, Adam threw them onto the bed and closed the ottoman lid.

Marching to the wall panelling on the left side of the doorway, he gave one of the secret panels a sharp shove and readied his hand to catch the edge of it, when it sprung open. He inspected the contents of the compartment before taking out a long white feather, three-wheel Wartenberg pinwheel, a pair of fingerless leather gloves with the palms covered in studs. He shut the compartment and opened the next one in the same manner, picking out a set of nipple clamps with adjustable screws.

Adam put the items on the bed and unbuttoned his suit jacket to remove it, laying it on the back of the vacant armchair, before he set to work. The toys he selected were laid out on top of the ottoman. Each rope was fastened to each post of the bed, drawing sloppy red lines to the middle of the bed. Finishing on the opposite side of the bed, nearest the chest of drawers, he ambled over to it and pulled out the top left drawer, picking out the tightest blindfold. Testing its resistance with his hands, he stretched it a couple of times, nodding his head in time. He closed the drawer and whirled the blindfold around on his left forefinger, while he went through into the other room, where Belle was still sitting where he had left her.

"Are you ready, Miss French?" Adam asked, standing in front of the open doorway.

She took one last sip of her almost finished drink and left it on the coffee table as she stood up, turning to face him on the spot. "Very."

A sly smile pulled back the left side of his lips as he held up the blindfold hanging off his finger and gestured for her to come to him. Belle bounced over to him, causing a small chuckle to reverberate in the back of his throat. Standing in front of him, she twirled round, putting her back to him. He inspected the tight plait she had done, following it all the way down to the small little tail that was left of her hair. Rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, Adam wanted to touch the small tail, wrap it around her finger, feel the soft smoothness of her hair. Breathing in and out again, he pressed his lips together as he stretched the blindfold and fed it over her head, pulling it down to cover her eyes.

"Too tight?" He asked, whilst circling her, checking the blindfold wasn't turned up on itself.

"No." Belle answered him, immediately.

"Good." His gaze glided down from her blindfolded face to the blue bra she was wearing, making the mounds of her breasts look very succulent to him. "And what do you say, if things get too much?"

Her lips stretched into a smile. "Book."

"Good girl." He leant into her and whispered in her ear.

The smell of her distracted him. Her usual mix of jasmine, sandalwood and bergamot filled his nose. It took him back to Wednesday night, when his face had been buried in the nape of her neck, tasting and smelling her. Giving himself wholeheartedly to the moment of weakness. His dick swelled at the memory, at the smell of her, at the sight of her before him. He breathed out until his lungs were completely empty, filling his lungs with the divine smell of her.

Adam carefully grasped her hand and traded it to his other hand, using the motion to turn her and continue to turn her till she faced the bedroom. Placing a gentle hand on her lower back, hovering over the V of her thong, he showed her into the bedroom and steered her to the right side of the bed. Exchanging her hand between his own, he turned her round and directed her backwards, watchful of her when the edge of the mattress caught the back of her legs. He didn't need to say anything to her, she sat down and waited compliantly.

"You'll feel ropes on the bed. Scoot yourself backwards and into the middle of the bed." He commanded, while pulling his tie undone and out of the collar of his shirt.

Belle didn't say anything. Her hand reached out and found the rope from the bottom bedpost, and kept it in her hand as she shuffled backwards onto the bed, using the rope as her guide. Adam watched her as he worked through the buttons of his waistcoat and shrugged it from his shoulders, while his tie hung from his clasped fingers. Near enough in the middle of the bed, she laid herself out, shifting herself to get more comfortable, then became still with her hands down at her sides and her lefts close together. Seeing her be compliant was the ultimate turn on for him.

Before he got ahead of himself, he laid his waistcoat on top of his suit jacket and crossed the room to the chest of the drawers, where he rolled up his tie and placed it on top of it. He removed his cufflinks, while twisting to glimpse at Belle. 'Perfect.', he remarked in his head and placed his cufflinks in the drawers. His belt chinked and clanked as he yanked it loose and pulled it through the loops of his trousers, then he rolled it up to join his other items on the chest of drawers. Money clip and car keys were emptied from his pockets, and stowed with his other items. While he wandered back to the other side of the room, to the chair where his clothes lay, he unbuttoned his shirt, admiring Belle naked beauty. His shirt glided down his arms, when he peeled it from his shoulders, and half folded his shirt before laying it over his other clothes. His gaze remained on her as he toed off his shoes and removed his socks, cursing life for dealing him shitty cards, which stopped him from baring himself to a beautiful woman and let her into his heart. God knows, Belle would be his ideal woman, but Adam was not foolish, things like that weren't meant for a man like him.

Advancing to the bed, Adam traipsed round to the other side and hovered over each corner, first securing her right hand, then her right leg. On the other side, he did exactly the same, but started with her left foot before binding her left hand. He stood back and inspected his work, testing the slack he left in the ropes for her. The bulge in his trousers became more constrictive as his fantasy slowly came to life.

The first toy he selected, from his collection on the ottoman, was the long white feather. Pulling it through his fingers, getting a feel for its softness, he eyed the length of her legs before clambering onto the bed, kneeling between her spread legs. His eyes were on her blindfolded face as he lightly stroked the tip of the feather up the inside of her right leg, starting near to where the rope was wrapped around her ankle. Her calf muscle twitched ever so slightly. Stroking it further up, he tilted the tip of the feather to sneak into the dip of her knee, tickling under her leg. Her knee jerked up from bed. He smiled as he traced up the inside of her thigh, observing the tremble travelling down her leg.

Adam didn't venture too close to the apex of her thighs. This would be the last area he'd stimulate. Leaning back on his heels, he traced an identical line up her other leg, veering over her knee instead of underneath, causing her lower leg to kick up from the bed, tugging on the restraint. Flowing from her knee to the inside of her thigh, he ventured up towards her pussy, but took the feather away when he was within an inch of the crease of her thigh.

He sat back, watching her, slowly pulling the feather through his fingers. Sucking in her bottom lip, Belle turned her head to the side, while her stomach crunched, revealing a hint of definition in her muscles. The marks he had made last Friday were gone from her stomach. On her left breast were the small crooked red marks he'd given her. The guilt he felt, for marking her, was nothing compared to the pride he felt, knowing she was his and his alone.

Reaching out with the feather, Adam outlined the natural V of her groin, following the crease lines of her thighs in one motion. Her hips grinded down into the mattress as her legs juddered. From the top of her left hip, he stroked the blade of the feather down her thigh, observing how little her body reacted. Adam switched to her right leg. This time, he caressed the length of the feather up her thigh and was delighted, when her leg jumped clearly off the bed, snapping the rope restraint taut, making the bedpost creak.

Placing his left hand on her leg, he guided it back down onto the bed, grinning at her reaction. "This side's a bit more ticklish."

"A… Little!" Belle's voice jumped an octave, as she spoke, due to the tip of the feather being drawn down the centre of her thong.

"I wonder where else you're ticklish." Adam remarked out loud as he sat forward onto his knees.

The feather started below the lace of her bra and drew a lazy line down the centre of her stomach, triggering a series of ripples in her flesh as the muscles clenched and relaxed. He circled the dip of her belly button, overlapping himself to continue down the path of her stomach to the waist of her thong. Deep into the V waist line, on the pinnacle of crossing the lace covering the mound of her sex, Adam veered off to his right, running the tip of the feather up to her left hip. Her legs twisted to the right, knocking her left knee into his thigh, whilst her hips turned to get away from the feather. Grinning, he slanted his head to the side, noting her reaction as he backtracked along the same path, continuing up the other side of the waistband of her thong to her other hip, making her legs contort to the left, hitting him again.

Belle gritted her teeth, hissing under her breath. "God…!"

Adam turned as much as he could to the ottoman and exchanged the feather for the Wartenberg pinwheel. Holding his left palm open, he tested the pinwheels out on it, rolling it up and down, changing the pressure from light to hard. The tracks of the pinwheels tingled. Looking from his hand to Belle, he smiled before lightly trailing the pinwheels up her right leg. Her reaction was instant. Belle yanked her leg away from pinwheels, but with her leg bound, all she did was shift the path he took up her leg.

"What's that?!" She asked, tilting her head up to blindly look at him.

While he answered her, Adam changed to her less sensitive leg and wheeled it up the length of her left leg, as he gently guided her other leg down. "It's a Wartenberg pinwheel. It's a medical device, but it's really good as a sensory toy."

"Pins?" Belle wanted him to clarify.

"Yes, it has three wheels of pins." He described to her, while he stepped over her right leg with his left, straddling her leg, so he could persist up the path he was taking, crossing the waistband of her underwear to her stomach.

Her flat stomach became rigged under the wheels, when she tensed herself. "Is this going to hurt?"

Placing his free hand on the bed, Adam bent down and whispered, directly into her ear. "Not yet."

Belle's head slanted into his, brushing her soft cheek against his own before her head fell back onto the bed. Hovering above her, the pinwheel rolled up the outside of her belly and over her ribs until the pinwheel made contact with her bra. He skipped the material of her bra and drove the wheels across the humps of her breasts, pressing a little harder into the soft mounds. A hiss was sucked through her teeth as Adam missed her bra again and dragged the wheels down her ribs, teasing to swerve lower down her side. As the wheels rolled along the softer skin of her stomach, Belle suddenly hauled in a deep breath, shallowing her stomach and emphasising the shape of her ribcage.

Licking his lips at the sight of her, he changed direction with the wheels, crisscrossing them over her stomach, erratically applying slightly more pressure when he wanted. Her stomach became a quivering piece of flesh. Jutting and tensing, pulling in on itself, her stomach had a mind of its own. He did one final cross, over the lower part of her stomach, and waited for her stomach to become still before then swiped the wheels down the centre of her stomach.

"Hah!" She half cried and moaned, arching her back off the bed.

Adam leaned to the bottom of the bed, swapped the pinwheel for the velvet flogger. Adjusting his position on the bed, his eyes roamed down her body, slowing to take in the light red lines he had left on her stomach. He held the velvet flogger high above her, letting the strains droop down to their full length. Lowering them, Adam whispered the ends up her right leg, prompting her leg to leap up off the bed, snatching the rope.

"Miss French, if you can't keep this leg on the bed, like a good girl, I'll have to punish you." He told her, lightly trailing the strands down her angled thigh as he pushed her leg back down. "Is that what you want?"

"No." She muttered, pulling on the rope restraining her left arm as the tips of the strands danced across the material of her thong.

A sly smile grew on his face, while the flogger stroked along her other leg. "Are you sure?"

"No…" Came an unsure voice.

"Good girl." He chuckled at her. "I like honesty."

As a reward for her honesty, he put the flogger down between her legs and cupped her sex with his hand. Belle's hips lifted off the bed, grinding herself into the palm of his hand. The feeble material of her thong was drenched in her wetness. Humming at the delight of finding her so wet, Adam slipped a finger under the material and dove it through her folds, crooking the tip to tease the rim of her opening. Her hips thrusted at his finger, wanting more of it, craving to have him inside of her.

"Good girls get rewarded." Adam angled himself forward to whisper to her, drawing his finger up through her folds to her clit. "But naughty girls get fucked senseless."

"Oh… God!" She moaned, pushing her head back into the bed, raising her chin into the air.

Gliding his finger through her folds, he let his finger probe further into her entrance as he asked. "Do you like it, when I talk to you like that, Miss French?"

"Yes." Belle confessed. "I've always liked it."

Pulling his finger out and his hand out from her thong, he gave her cunt a firm pat, producing a loud gasp from Belle as her legs pulled up, straining her restraints. "Now, you're tempting me to call you and tease you on the phone."

"Please!" She begged him, while her hips twisted, fighting to squeeze her legs together, capturing his hand between her thighs.

"All in due time." Adam said as he took his hand away from her.

Belle squirmed, raising her hips completely off the bed, desperate for contact. His cock throbbed in his trousers, eager to be inside of her. Distracting himself, he collected the flogger and raised it high, brushing the strands over her delicately covered sex. Her hips plummeted to the bed as she moaned loudly, biting heavily into her lower lip. He grazed the tips over her taut stomach, watching as she heaved herself up the bed, pulling on ropes around her wrists till the slack was taken from the ropes retraining her ankles. Skimming them over her breasts, Belle drew in an almighty gasp before she went completely still, holding her breath. He took the flogger away and climbed off the bed.

Observing her on the bed as he returned the flogger to the top of the ottoman, Belle's legs fruitlessly fought the ropes to create some friction. She groaned in frustration, thrashing her head to the side, possibly cursing him under her breath. Adam couldn't take his eyes off her, though. Her skin was turning a rosy colour, hot and bothered, and definitely ready for him.

As he walked over to the chair with his clothes, he unfastened his trousers and shoved down both his trousers and boxers, stepping out of both of them to lay them over his other clothes. His dick sprung up as soon as it was free, bouncing freely. Instinctively, Adam softly stroked his member as he went back to the bed, keeping it docile. Mithering on the bed, he watched with fascination as Belle stretched out and then pulled her arms and legs in together, as far as she could, quietly groaning in disappointment, when the ropes made a thunk noise against the bedposts. She cavorted herself, trying to find some form of stimulation to satisfy her state of arousal.

"Miss French, I've already warned you about your right leg. Do I need to remind you of this warning, for both of your legs?" He asked in a smooth frank tone.

"No, sorry." Belle hastily put her legs down, spreading them far apart.

As he picked up the studded leather gloves and the nipple clamps, he told her. "There's no need to apologise. I give three warnings before carrying out a punishment."

She stayed silent and still on the bed. From where he stood, Adam could clearly see she had sucked in her lower lip and was no doubt biting it. Even though they hadn't gotten to absolute obedience, he silently commended her.

With new submissives, the two hardest things they struggled with were trust and relenting control. Both she seemed to do easily with him. It gave him high hopes for when they progressed to that stage… The problem, he considered as he rubbed the chain for the clamps between his thumb and forefinger, was if his sanity could last that long. Belle had been right, sex was sex, except when other things got involved. His outburst last week had been more at himself than at her, yet as he had already remarked, Adam couldn't help himself.

Not when it came to Belle.

Shaking off the disturbing thought, Adam moved around the corner of the bed and clambered onto it, positioning himself between her wide-open legs. The narrow strip of her thong covering her sex had changed to a darker shade, wet through with her arousal. He could smell her. The strong musk roused him, enticing him like a siren's call. Putting the clamps and gloves to one side, he braced himself over her with his left hand on the bed and simply placed his free hand on her hot pussy. Her hips rubbed themselves into his palm. Her wetness seeped through onto his hand and the more she moved, the more her smell surrounded him.

"It wouldn't take much to make you come right now." He stated, curiously watching her hips.

"Please!" Belle pleaded with him.

Adam removed his hand. "Soon."

She let out a groan of frustration, yanking on the ropes above her head, while he held himself above her. There was something about witnessing someone at the end of their tether. Knowing, you have the power to tip them over the edge. That in that moment, inside of those four walls, he was the only one, who could give her what she wanted. There was no one else, at that moment, Belle wanted. Just him. And he loved that fact. Like with all the other women, the feeling was the best thing in the world, but it felt even better with her.

Driven by the high of the feeling and the smell of her, Adam lowered himself to place an innocent kiss in the valley of her breasts. The contact lifted her chest off the mattress, chasing him as he pushed himself up. The outline of her ribs protruded from her skin, threatening to breakthrough if she increased the arch in her back. While she held herself like that, her body striving for him, for contact, for stimulation, Adam wrapped his arms around her – one to support, one to unfasten – and removed her bra. Feeling the touch of his hands, Belle dropped onto the mattress, flattening her back, appearing to pin his arms underneath her. In his new position, it put his chest between her legs, giving her something hard to rub herself against. So, as he wriggled his hands out from underneath her, Belle was grinding her wet pussy into his chest, groaning as she rocked.

"Such a naughty girl, Miss French." He playfully chastised her.

The bedposts clunked at the bottom of the bed, resisting her attempts to wrap her legs around him. Adam grinned down at her as he raised himself above her, taking his chest away from her. A pure growl of frustration emanated deep from inside of Belle. Angling himself onto one arm, he grabbed her limp flimsy bra and hauled it up her arms, exposing her breasts to him. The light-yellow marks caught his eye, like they had on Wednesday night. Bringing his hand down from her bra, his fingers trailed down from her right shoulder, across her chest and touched the ghost of the mark he'd given her.

Her back arched into his touch, wanting more of it. Splaying his hand over her breast, Adam squeezed the plump breast into the palm of his hand, digging his fingertips into it, luring her to further curve her back. She whimpered. Letting go, he pinched her nipple, hard, giving it a precise twist as he did. Her whole body reacted to him, straining to get to his touch, for more him. Adam had all this power over her, at his fingertips, yet he wanted more from her. He wanted to own her, consume her. Delving forward, he devoured her left nipple after taking away his hand and used his weight to push her back down, pinning her onto the bed.

"Ah…!" She cried.

He groaned at his hard-on prodding the mattress and while he shifted his weight onto one leg, he grabbed her other breast, pinching her nipple. Her hips repositioned underneath him, striving to keep him where she could possibly get touched. Belle strained against her wrist restraints, endeavouring to inch herself closer to him, grunting at her struggle. He paid it no attention, knowing she wouldn't get what she wanted.

Opening his mouth, Adam observed her face as he flicked the tip of his tongue out to hit her nipple. Belle moaned and ceased her futile attempts to get to him. He hit it again, causing another beautiful moan that she muffled by biting her lower lip. Giving it one more flick, while she stifled another moan, Adam pinched her nipple between his teeth and sucked the small bud into his mouth. Belle's left knee shot into his side, forcefully knocking him. He pulled at both her nipples – one with his teeth, the other with his fingers - squeezing the red buds until she let out a loud cry.

Yanking harshly on the ropes, both bedposts creaked loudly. "Argh… Fuck!"

Relenting on the pressure, Adam smiled, looking at her with hooded eyes, whilst he lathered her left nipple with his tongue and gently teased his middle finger around her other nipple. She was breath-taking – rosy cheeks, glowing with arousal - beautiful. His tongue slowed as it circled her nipple. He shouldn't have been having thoughts like that. Immediately, Adam squashed down the thought, the remark, and whatever possible feelings were festering in his chest, blooming in the darkness.

He pounced to her other breast, a quick change of direction would serve to distract him and put Belle on her toes. Sucking her breast harshly into his mouth, Belle took in a sharp intake of breath and moaned, more in pain than in pleasure. Adam shook his head from side to side, working more of her breast into his mouth and bit into her flesh. Her legs hit him in perfect synch as she choked on her moan. The sensation of him nibbling, licking, sucking, near enough wrenching her nipple from her breast, had Belle levitating above the bed.

She whispered, over and over, again. "Yes… Yes… Yes…"

As he snatched his head back, her breast burst out of his mouth and wobbled from the force. Her nipple stood proudly, mirroring her other nipple, both red and enlarged. Throwing his leg over her right, he straddled her, his hard cock rested on the smooth hot skin of her thigh. He picked up the nipple clamps and took a clamp into either hand, dangling the chain between his hands. Underneath him, Belle was jutting her hips, blindly seeking his knee that was a whisper away from the apex of her thighs. With a sly grin, Adam leaned far enough forward to caress her nipples with the clamps.

"I'm going to put these clamps on your nipples." He tilted his head to the side, admiring his handiwork. "They're going to bite harder than they did last time."

"Okay." Belle murmured in response.

Laying one of the clamps on top of its designated breast, Belle shivered at the cool contrast of the metal, whilst he held her right breast in his hand, bulging her nipple out, and delicately clipped the clamp onto her nipple. A loud hiss filled the room as he angled his head from side to side, checking her whole nipple was being pinched. Though, he, himself, didn't make any response to her hiss, but his dick bounced on her thigh. Belle must have noticed. Her leg raised under him, nestling her knee into his ass, whilst her hip rode up, trying to rub his cock and balls. A master at ignoring his own pleasure. The tickling sensation she provoked was like a little whisper in the back of his mind, as he attached the other clamp to her other nipple. Her hiss this time was less harsh. The chain linking her breasts moved in time with her heaving chest as he threw his leg back over hers.

"You're bordering on another warning." Adam warned, while settling into a kneeling position between her legs again.

"I want you!" She insisted. "You're driving me crazy!"

"I'm going to drive you to so much more than craziness, Miss French." He shared with her as he collected the pair of gloves off the bed.

Her stomach collapsed, sucked up into her chest with a breath before Belle uttered. "Oh… God!"

He chuckled, sliding his right hand into one of the gloves. "Not tonight, dearie."

"Please!" She whined, lifting her hips off the bed at him.

"You want this?" Adam questioned, covering her sopping wet thong with his left hand, kneading the heel of his palm into her clit.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Belle chanted at him.

As he took away his hand, her legs and arms fought the restraints as her body thumped down into the mattress. "I've already told you - Soon."

"PLEASE, MR GOLD!" She beseeched him, lifting her head to blindly stare down at him, pulling with all her might on the ropes, making her slight bicep muscles bulge in her arms.

"How sweet you beg." Adam taunted as he worked his fingers into the other fingerless glove.

Straining her stomach muscles, she awkwardly raised her top half off the bed, pulling back her arms as Belle profusely begged him. "Fuck me! Please, Mr Gold! Fuck me!"

"Happily." Was all he said to her and she fell back onto the bed, in complete peace for the few seconds it took for him to touch her, placing both his hands on her thighs.

The small studded spikes stuck to the palm of the gloves weren't sharp. Gliding his hands up her legs, Belle's hips thrusted up to meet his hands as they traversed the thin line of her thong. The elastic of her thong caught briefly on the spikes of his left glove, springing back when the tension pulled it free. Her body rippled under his hands. Breathing in heavily, she held her breath for a second or two, before gasping for another, holding it just as long. He avoided her breasts, caressing round to her sides and up onto the flat plane of her chest. The pressure he was applying to the spikes was leaving pink lines on her skin, showing a clear path from where he had started, giving him tracks to follow back round her breasts to her stomach. He veered to the centre of her stomach, etching multiple pink lines onto her skin.

"That feels so good…!" Belle mumbled, stretching out her body, raising her legs to rub them into his sides.

"Hmm…" He tilted his head down to look at her legs as his hands parted and smoothed his hands down to her thighs. "So much so, you've forgotten about my warning."

"I'm sorry." She told him, earnestly.

Adam grinned as he curled his fingers around the thin elastic of her thong. "We'll deal with your punishment in a minute. But, right now," He tugged at her underwear, easily tearing the feeble material from her hips, and threw it to one side, telling her. "I'm going to fuck you."

While he positioned himself between her legs, the ropes secured around wrists vibrated with the tension she was putting on them. Her legs opened wide for him, granting him access, inviting him into her depths, begging him. Adam hooked his hands under her knees and lifted her legs till the ropes became tight. A gentle tugged on her legs, pulled Belle back down the bed towards him, slackening the ropes on her legs. Shifting closer to her, his thighs kept her legs off the bed. His dick excitedly bounced, sensing it was close to its goal, while he caressed the studded gloves down the back of her legs, causing her to kick out her right leg.

Taking a hold of his dick to steady it, Adam smiled as he breached the opening of her entrance and groaned. His head tilted back; eyes closed to savour the feeling. Belle was unbelievably hot and wet for him. Pressing his lips into a thin tight line, he rocked his hips, dipping in and out of her, revelling in her tightness as her body sought to draw him in deeper.

"Please!" She implored him.

And with that final plea, Belle got what she wanted. Bending his head forward, Adam looked down at her as he adjusted his hold on her thighs. He thrusted himself into her, hard, smacking his balls into her anus. While she inhaled loudly and the bedposts creaked, Adam retracted himself and slammed himself back into her. Hunching himself forward, he supported himself with a hand either side of her stomach, dipping the mattress, as his hips drew back before he thrusted with force, pushing the full length of him into her hot wet depths. The new angle of his hips allowed him to have better control. Pitching his hips into her, he grinded himself into her clit, feeling her pelvic bone, each time their hips impacted.

"Oh, yes!" Belle praised, breathlessly. "Just like that! Just like that!"

He walked forward on his hands, steeping the angle of his hips and was rewarded with an almighty gasp at their hips colliding together. Her whole body was rippling with the motion. The nipple clamps bobbed back and forth too, jingling the chain connecting them. Heaving in a deep breath, forcing out her chest, Belle held it, biting her lower lip. A thick blue vein bulged out the side of her neck. The walls of her channel clenched around him, clinging to him, enticing him to deposit his seed in her. The heat and wetness her, became an agonising distraction, but so fucking delicious as he pounded himself into her. The whole bed groaned as Belle pulled up her legs and pulled down her arms. Their skin slapping together – slap, slap, slap – was what Adam was concentrating on, keeping his time like a metronome. Otherwise, he would've come with her, when a new wave of heat and wetness gushed at the head of his cock, coating him, squelching out with his thrusts.

"OH, FUCK!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, throwing her head back, arching herself as her orgasm ripped through her.

Keeping the tempo, Adam balanced on one hand and reached to grab the chain, jiggling in the valley of her breasts, and yanked on it. It wasn't perfectly timed. The right clamp snapped off first, followed very quickly by the left. However, the cry, the reaction, the indescribable heat of her core was perfect.

Belle nearly drowned in her own scream, while deafening him. Her body had been paralysed with the pleasure of her first orgasm, the shock of the two bursts of pain made her body jerk up from the bed. Twisting in some poor attempt to fend off the source of the pain, but with her arms immobilised, Belle needlessly thrashed from side to side. Her legs jutted into his sides, with her raising her hips to meet his. The squelch of their joining was loud, louder than their skin slapping together. Her new wave of wetness oozed down his length, burning him. He could feel it as the hot heat was worked out of her, covering her and him, smearing onto his balls. It was so pleasurable and satisfying, Adam couldn't stop himself.

"So good." He muttered to himself, hastily supporting himself onto his right hand.

Hanging his head down, Adam really couldn't help himself, his hips had their own will and were grinding themselves into her at a merciless pace. The temptation was on the tip of his cock. His plan, to whip and fuck her again, was slowly being forgotten with each thrust. If he kept going, he was spill himself into her scorching wet depths.

He lifted his head to look at her and saw she was still, with her head turned to the side. The ropes were slack, drawing red wobble lines on the white linen. Her legs were limp over his, waggling from side to side each time he plunged back into her. Boring down his brow over his eyes, Adam's pace of his hips slowed as his eyes roamed over her, taking in her limp arms and shallow breathing. On his next thrust, he pulled himself completely out of her and threw himself round to the left to pull on the quick release knot he had used on the bedpost. Quickly turning the other way, he yanked on the rope and freed her legs.

"Miss French?" Adam questioned, whilst hoping over her limp leg to untie one of her arms.

Leaning across the top of the bed, he yanked the opposite rope, calling to her. "Miss French, can you make a noise for me?"

Nothing.

He carefully removed the blindfold, tossing it wherever, and cradled Belle's face in his hands as he spoke to her. "Miss French, I need you to respond."

"Hmm…" She hummed, very drowsily.

Blowing out a hot breath, Adam gathered her into his arms and drew her closer to him, cradling her into his side as he said. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm…" Was her response.

"You need to give me a proper answer." He demanded, while his fingers combed back some loose strands of hair from her face.

"Yes." Belle mumbled her answer.

Adam snickered at her response. "Do you want a drink?"

She shook her head in the crook of his arm, managing to give him a clearer answer. "No."

"I can call down for some food." He suggested, closely studying her face.

Her head shook again. "No, just hold me."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Adam asked her, while he removed the fingerless gloves and dropped them onto the floor.

"I…" Belle opened her eyes and turned them up to him, making him hold his breath at her beauty. "I'm not sure how."

Hugging her closer, he stopped himself from stroking her with his fingers, or caressing her cheek with the backs of his fingers, or playing with the end of her plat, as he said. "What did it feel like?"

"Floating." Her eyebrows grew slightly closer in thought as her eyes lowered to somewhere near his neck. "I was floating above everything and I didn't want to come down. I wasn't anywhere in particular, but I felt safe. There was nothing. No worries. Just me, floating."

He watched her face. "It's not unusual to feel like that."

"Then I heard you calling my name." She said with her gaze rising to look at him.

The intensity in her blue eyes made him swallow before he said. "I told you, I'd be here."

Her right eyebrow kinked up at the end as Belle questioned him. "Why don't you ever call me 'Belle'?"

"It's…" His brow crinkled at her, thrown by her question. "It's too intimate. Too inappropriate for our relationship as it is."

"Ah… The line." She stated with a hint of sadness to her tone.

Adam didn't like her tone. The rules had to stay in place, even if he didn't like them himself. They were there to protect her, as well as himself. Nothing good would come from easing up on them. It was already hard to see the line. Calling her 'Miss French' kept things professional and was an easy way for him to remind himself that this was an arrangement. Using her forename would encourage the festering in his chest to grow, would make things personal, would give her even more power over him, if she said his name, shouted his name at the top of her lungs like he'd fantasied.

"Do you want a drink?" Adam asked, hastily, contorting himself to look round into the other room. "I could get you another drink. Rum and coke?"

"Err… I…" Belle uttered as he bundled her off his lap and onto the bed, jumping off the bed as soon as he was free. "I'm alright, actually."

He forced a smile at her and rubbed his hands together. "I need a drink, so I'll be right back."

"What… What about our evening? Is that it?" She inquired behind him as he escaped the bedroom at a marginally quick pace.

"I did have something else planned, but I think it's best to end things for tonight." He raised his voice to be heard in the other room.

Bracing his hands on the drinks trolley, the glasses and bottles chinked together as he blew out a calming breath, looking down at the contents of the trolley. It would've been so easy to lean into her, brush his lips against hers, testing her receptiveness. The thought shouldn't have entered his mind, just like how he'd love to hear her scream his name up at the ceiling. He wasn't supposed to care about things like that.

"What did you have planned?" Belle asked.

Her question jumpstarted him back into motion and he selected his bottle of scotch from the trolley, answering her question. "I was going to string you up to a bedpost and whip you with the crop before fucking you from behind."

"Oh…" She crooned.

"It's fine. No bother at all. Another night, perhaps." He told her, pouring a large measure into his glass from earlier. Then, in a quieter voice, said to himself. "If I can stop having these stupid thoughts."

Adam returned the bottle of scotch, while raising his glass to his lips to drink from it, hearing her in the other room say. "Oh, there's rings at the top of the posts."

"Yeah, on all four." He told her, while moving to the open doorway. "I designed them…" He stopped dead.

Standing next to a post at the bottom of the bed, Belle faced the bedpost with her hands above her head, resting on the shaft of the post with the rope draped down beside her. Adam squinted his gaze at her, tapping the band of his ring on his right ring finger off his glass. She didn't look at him. Not even curiously. Her gaze was fixed on the bedpost.

"What are you doing?" Adam queried, taking a step forward.

"Waiting for you." She immediately answered him.

He moved closer, inspecting the velvet rope hanging down from the loop, fixed to the top of the post. "I told you, we don't need to continue."

"But I'd like to." Belle angled her head back, casting her eye over her shoulder at him. "Don't you?"

"I…" He was flummoxed. "Course, I would, but… I just think that must've been overwhelming and…"

She cut him off. "And you got me through it." Her head turned away from him to face the post. "Now, let's continue."

Opening his mouth to argue the point with her, he was too blown away by her strength to go through with his argument. He'd face countless lawyers, good and bad ones, and none of them had ever had him on the ropes, lost for words. Belle was so… Resilient, he was stunned. Maybe, she didn't need him to bring it out of her. The woman lurking in the shadows was slowly revealing herself, blooming slowly, baring her inner beauty as each petal peeled back with age. The hesitant, shy teenager, who'd come to his shop to buy a book, was long gone with the beautiful, strong woman in front of him. Her younger self would never have stood up to him. She wouldn't have said boo to a goose, either.

Adam drank down the rest of his drink, emptying his glass, and went over to her, licking the taste from his lips, and placed the empty glass on the ottoman. Moving to stand behind her, he hovered close to her, brushing his growing erection against her perk ass. He raised a finger to run down the tight plait she had done, bouncing the tip of his finger down each notch.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He enquired, giving her another chance to back out.

"Yes." Belle said firmly, while bumping her butt into his swelling cock.

The contact induced a small growl from him. He looked down at the rump of her behind and placed his hand on the offending item, spreading out his fingers to cover the entirety of it. There was a gentle resistance to his hand as kneaded one of her butt cheeks.

Clenching his fingers into her flesh, he leaned into her, whispering just behind her ear. "This ass is mine. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Adam whipped back his hand and soundly smacked her ass cheek. "Good."

Her shoulders raised, when she breathed in, falling in time with her breath. He stepped round her, crowding her, wanting her to feel his erection prodding her. His attention went to rope, checking the knot she had made at the bottom, tugging on the rope to test it. Happy enough with her crude knot, Adam shifted to stand behind her, nudging his hard-on to nestle between her butt cheeks, while he reached above her and wrapped the rope around her wrists, criss-crossing it around them. Pulling the end of the rope tight, the knot he made sat in the middle of the rope bound around her wrists. He stretched to pull again on the rope, heaving back to test her basic knot, giving him an excuse to rub himself against her.

"Happy, Mr Gold?" Belle asked, tilting her head to see what he'd done to her wrists.

He inclined himself into her, touching her back with his chest as he said a single word to her. "Soon."

Her forehead thumped the post. "I'm going to hate that word by the end of tonight."

Chuckling, Adam stepped to the ottoman and picked up the riding crop. "Delayed gratification makes it all worth it in the end."

"That's easy for you to say. You're not the one being made to wait." She said, bending her head back to see him on the other side of her arm.

"Am I not?" He inquired, raising an eyebrow, as he transferred his weight to the leg closer to her. "If I didn't make myself wait, Miss French, I'd have you bent over the couch, as soon as you arrived, and fuck you, while your face was being mushed into the seat cushion."

"I…" Her mouth gaped, shocked.

His eyes dropped to her open mouth. "You better close that before I find something to shove in it." Her mouth closed with her blue eyes watching him. "Good girl." He praised her, stroking the leather end of the crop down the left side of her back.

Her back curved away from the tickle of the crop as Adam told her. "Miss French, I warned you three times to keep your leg on the bed." Taking a step back to give him more room, he skimmed the leather flap of the crop up the other side of her back. "I was lenient and ignored some of your infractions." He traced down the centre of her spine with it. "Your punishment is ten whips of the crop."

Placing the end of the crop on the curve of her left butt cheek, he asked her. "Are you ready?"

Turning her head to observe him over the nook in her arm, she said. "Yes, Mr Gold."

Adam smiled, coveting the sound of her calling him 'Mr Gold'. Overlooking his own infringement, for now, he pulled back the crop and flick his wrist, slapping the leather flap at her cheek. Her head bowed forward, resting against the post as she made a 'umph' noise at being hit. He watched her shoulder rise with the breath she took in and struck at her right cheek with a satisfying crack of the crop. The plait in her hair fell further down her back as her head fell back, letting out a coarse groan.

Stroking the tip of the flap across her backside, he picked his spot and whipped the crop back, hitting the spot with a firm slap. Belle's fingers clasped around the post as she lifted slightly onto her tiptoes, then slowly dropped back down onto the flats of her feet. He hit exactly the same spot on her other cheek, mirroring the light pink mark he'd left on the other.

"That's four, Miss French." He stated the count for her. "Do you want more?"

"Yes." She said clearly, inclining her head forward.

"Harder?" Adam asked, adjusting his hold on the crop.

Her head twisted, allowing her to see him. "Harder."

A sly grin pulled back the left side of his face. "Good girl."

Flicking the crop, the leather flap hit the lower side of her left cheek. Belle lifted herself up onto her tiptoes, half groaning half growling into the bedpost. Striking out again, Adam didn't wait for her to drop down onto her feet. The spot he smacked matched the spot on her other cheek, leaving behind a pink half square on her skin. She gave a short cry at the pain, tipping back her head, but the cry morphed into a high groan, before descending into a low moan with her head falling forward between her arms. Her feet gave and she landed onto her heels with a thud.

Watchful of her, Adam trailed the flap of the crop down the centre of her butt cheeks, following the curve round the bottom of her left cheek and trekked up to top of the hump, playfully painting an invisible line onto her skin. Her head bowed forward till her chin rested on her chest.

Idly, Adam stroked the crop over the tops of her cheeks as he confirmed she wanted to resume. "More?"

"Yes." Belle's voice was quieter than a whisper.

"Louder, Miss French." He instructed.

Lifting her head and crooking her neck, so she could see him behind her, she used the same sharp tone she had used on Wednesday night. "Yes!"

Their gazes held each other as the head of the crop flitted along the underside of her ass. Enthusiastically, his cock jutted up at her, urging him to take her now. Taking no notice as it bounced defiantly, Adam half grinned in response to Belle's tone. The crop stroked round and round in circles on her left cheek before he whipped it back and planted it squarely in the centre of her cheek. A ripple cascaded out from the spot, while Belle's head thud the bedpost, letting out a long low moan at being struck.

While her guttural moan died off, Adam was finding the mirrored spot on her other cheek, when he noticed her feet shuffling back, rounding her ass as she leaned forward, presenting it to him. The movement caused him to pause before striking her with the eighth lash, bemused with her. He smirked, recalling how adamant she'd been that she wouldn't enjoy being gagged, whipped or shamed. 'One down, two to go', he commented to himself as the whip spanked her for the ninth time, hitting her hard enough to brand her with a dark pink square.

Aiming for the exact same spot on the right side of her butt, Adam's eyes flicked up to her shoulder and met the gaze of her single eye staring at him. There wasn't any pleading in her gaze. Belle looked at ease. There was no tension in her shoulders, no tightness in her back, no clenching of the muscles in her ass. Belle was taking the punishment like an experienced submissive. There was no fear as she saw him flick back the crop, preparing to strike.

Adam snapped the end of the crop at her ass, his gaze locked on her single eye. A blend of a hiss and a moan sprang from Belle at the final crack of the crop. Raising up onto her tiptoes, her face was pushed into the post as her fingers grasp the shaft of it. He sidled up behind her as she lowered herself down, her hands gliding down the polished wood. Disposing of the crop to the ottoman, he observed her – her breathing, tension in her muscles, the assortment of different shades of pink on her butt, the rigidness in her limbs. Her fingers loosened around the post, while Belle bent her head down, shrouded in the cover her arms being held above her head.

Cautiously, he placed a hand onto her upper back, while he leaned to see her face hidden behind her arm. "Are you okay?"

Her groan grew louder as her head tilted back, lowering the tail of her plait to her lower back. "Touch me."

Adam smoothed his hand across her back, edging himself to stand behind her, and placed his other hand onto her back, reflecting the caress of his right hand down her back. "Like this?"

"More." She commanded.

Applying more pressure, he skimmed his hands down the sides of her, stooping a little to go further down her thighs. "More?"

"Yes, more." Belle urged, leaning her head forward. "Touch me all over."

Whilst he drew his hands up the back of her thighs, he clawed his nails into her, scratching a blazing trail up the back of her legs and over her ass, crossing the marks he had given her. Belle hissed at the pain as she shoved her ass into his hands. His hips mimicked the sway of her hips, whilst he relaxed his hands, sweeping them up her sides, gliding effortlessly on her smooth skin to her shoulders. The head of his cock grazed the inside of her right leg as his nails scratched bright red lines down her back, earning a long throaty moan from Belle for his efforts. Her ass wiggled from side to side, nestling his hard eager member into the crevice of her ass. Blowing out a lengthy breath, Adam's hands came to rest on her hips, while they backed themselves into him, pushing her ass into his groin and sliding his dick further between her legs.

He closed his eyes, keeping his control, while squeezing her hips in his grip and shoving his own into her, dry humping her from behind. Her skin clung to him, pulling on the natural sheath of his cock. The heat and wetness of her cunt beckoned him as he grinded the shaft of his penis into her, groaning out his pleasure. As his hips shunted into her, bumping her, Adam slid his hands up her back and dug his nails heavily into her back, pulling down at an excruciatingly slow pace. She cried out, louder than she had before, whilst her hips pushed back into him.

Wrapping the length of her plait around his hand, Adam pulled her head back as he bent forward to meet her. "I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop! Do you understand?"

"Do it! Fuck me!" Belle goaded him, driving her hips back into him.

"Gladly." He growled as he bent his knees, giving himself enough access to line them up, and thrusted up into her, breaching her entrance in one movement.

"FUCK!" She shouted, while being jerked forward, slamming her shoulder into the bedpost.

Adam yanked on the crook of her hip, propelling her back into him as he thrusted himself into her. It was his turn to bite his lower lip, stemming the tickle at the base of his spine. Her inner walls sheathed him in a hot warmth and were slick with her sweet juices, as the muscles moulded themselves to his thick girth. Rutting himself into her core, his grip on her hair tightened, pulling, forcing her to arch her back, bending her like a bow. Belle grunted with each hard slam of his hips, forcefully slapping their flesh together to produce a firm, loud clapping sound.

For some reason, in his head, they were in her kitchen and Belle was bent over the breakfast table, items scattered on the floor by their feet, as he fucked her. The table groaned and scraped back and forth on the tiled floor. She clung onto the edge of it, much like she had in his study, holding on for dear life, while he lost control. There was no care. He wanted her, she wanted him. An arm would reach back for him, grabbing his clothing, yanking on them in time with him, urging him on in his quest to plunder her juicy pussy.

Snapping back from his fantasy, the room was filled with the sound of her coarse grunts, the clap of their flesh, the creak of the bedpost, the jangle of the ring at the top of the post, the squelch of her arousal with each lunge of his stiff length. Adam let out a steady breath, ignoring the very pleasurable sensation of her moisture seeping down his shaft, gathering at the base of his cock. Freeing her hair, he moved his hand to hold the other side of her hips, aiding him as he heaved her back onto him. With her arms trapped above her head and Adam wrenching her backwards, Belle was unable to find any support for herself. She had no choice, but to hang in front of him as he ruthlessly fucked her from behind.

Adam dug his fingertips into her hips, distracting himself from the pressure building in the pit of his stomach. Concentrating on her, on her breathing, on the colour of her skin, on the gushing wetness constantly flooding her channel, slowed down the build-up of his own orgasm. Her needs were more important. And with that in mind, he let go of her right hip and snuck his arm around her, delving his hand between her thighs to tease her clit.

"Yes!" She hoarsely whispered. "Fuck, yes!"

As he lightly circled her little pearl, her inner walls gripped themselves around him, making it a snug fit as he thrusted into her. If Adam hadn't had years of practise behind him, he would've come with her. His hips would've become an uncontrollable piston, pounding into her, driving his seed home until he was completely spent and fell limp from her. Riding through the slippery heat from her orgasm, Adam cupped her mound, covering her clit with his fingers, continuing his pace as he fucked her.

"You're going to come again." He told her, applying a small amount of pressure to her clit.

"I won't." She said, breathlessly and adamant.

"You will." A slow sly smirk pulled back the left side of his face. "Or beg me."

A growl of frustration emanated from her. "I won't come! I've had two big ones! I won't!"

"Let me show you." Adam said to her, whilst his fingers began to circle her clit, maintaining the pressure.

Sustaining the pace of his hips, his hips slammed into her, rocking her forward onto the balls of her feet. Belle groaned as her knees bent, lowering her hips. Hooking his free arm around her, he pulled her back up, supporting her, taking most of her weight. It actually helped him, allowing him to take shorter, harder thrusts into her. At the slight change, Belle's head swung down, directing her moan down to her feet. The muscles of her channel fluttered, undulating around him, while a sizzling heat smothered the head of his cock. He waited for her channel to settle, waited for her muscles to clutch him in a snug caress before he flicked his hand, giving her clit a sound tap.

"ARG…" Her cry got trapped in her throat, when she threw her head back, fighting the restraint around her wrists, wanting to fling herself back at him.

Coiling both his arms around her stomach, Adam let go, smashing his hips into her in an uncontrollable pace. The ball of pressure in the pit of his stomach burst as soon as he allowed it. The hotness of his seed was lost inside her, swallowed up by the heatwave burning down her channel, licking and lashing at his cock each thrust into her core. The grip of her channel wrung every last drop from him, tugging and sucking at his length, squeezing the head of his penis. He gasped in a breath, pulling her closer and up onto her tiptoes, as he rode through his own explosive orgasm.

They stumbled forward together on his final thrust, crashing Belle into the post of the bed with their combined force. Breathing nearly in time with one another, he rested his sweaty forehead on her left shoulder and snagged his right hand around the post. His knees were weak, his energy completely consumed, and his hold on the post was the only thing keeping him from falling onto the floor. Their stance shifted with Belle moving her feet and the movement caused his softening member to slip from the bliss of her vagina.

"I told you, you would." He muttered, observing a bead of sweat drip off his nose onto her back.

She murmured her response. "Tired."

Concerned, Adam raised his head off her shoulder and tried to angle himself to see her face, but couldn't see past the shroud of her arms. His arms felt so heavy as he reached up to undo the rope binding her wrists. When the ropes were loose enough for her hands to slip free, Belle slumped down into the gap between him and the bedpost. Thankful for having quick reflexes and the rush of adrenaline, Adam gathered her up into his arms, cradling her to his chest as he hooked his arm under her knees. She turned into him, snuggling to his chest, while he carried her the short distance to the bed and laid her down onto it.

His own exhaustion was forgotten as he gathered the bedspread and pillows he had taken off the bed earlier. Soon she was snuggling into the pillows, he had positioned under her head, and pulled the covers under her chin after he shook out the bedspread and laid it over her. He stood over her, watching her. The temptation to sit with her was strong. To care for her. To hold her. To kiss her… Adam's back straightened before he walked away, ducking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. 'Shit!', he cursed at himself.