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...

9. Chapter 9: Revelations

Belle blew out a nervous breath as the headlights of the taxi highlighted the curve of the bend and slowly revealed the bricked walls of the gateway, covered in green foliage, and the long driveway of the Club. Per her instructions, the taxi driver pulled across the driveway, blocking the gateway, and selected park when the car rocked to a stop. The money for the fare was in her hand as she shuffled across to the other side of the car and handed it to the driver, through the small hole in the Perspex glass. Pulling on the latch of the door, she told him to keep the change and received a curt 'thanks', while the driver counted the dollar bills, working out how much tip was left for them. She closed the door behind her and stepped away from the taxi, like she had done every week since their arrangement had begun, and pulled at the hem of her dress, self-conscious of her appearance. If Mr Gold was going to be there, that evening, Belle would've been more confident, but going into the lion's den on her own, was either rather brave of her or very foolish.

Neither option made her feel better about her decision.

Hugging the borrowed clutch purse to her chest, she started the long walk down the driveway to the mansion, glancing back at the taxi as it swung around to drive back into town. She hadn't made the decision lightly. Going to the exhibition hadn't even entered her mind. Since Friday night, all she could think about were the red rope marks around her wrists and ankles, grinning at the memory as she concealed her wrists underneath the sleeves of a long sleeve t-shirt.

Belle had been in the middle of dreamily recalling the evening, when she had heard a stool squeak at the counter behind her. She had finished stacking the clean cups with the others before she had turned round, surprised to find Cruella was perched on a stool at the end of the counter, with her fur-wrap loosely hung around her upper arms. Biting her lip, Belle had been flustered as she had casted her eye around the diner, sure someone would put two and two together and know their secret.

"Don't fret, Bambi." Cruella had crooned at her. "They wouldn't dare out you, if they knew."

"How can you be so sure?" She had asked, edging along the counter to stand closer to Cruella.

The smile Cruella had given her as she had spoken, had made her want to run to the safety of the kitchen. "Because I'll skin them alive." Belle's eyes had widened before Cruella had added with a shrug of her shoulder. "Or revoke their membership at the Club."

"You can do that?" Belle had inquired, sheepishly looking around the diner.

"Sadly, people tend to frown upon skinning people these days, so banning them is the next best thing. As for all the members and visitors, confidentiality is important." Cruella had stated, angling herself to peer in the direction Belle's eyes were looking.

"Oh… Course." She had braced a smile, slightly uncomfortable.

"Which is why," Cruella had sat back and flicked over her hand, revealing a white rectangle card. "I've come to deliver this invitation in person."

Crooking an eyebrow at the invitation, Belle had tentatively taken the card from her. "Invitation for what?"

"To the exhibition on Saturday, darling." Cruella had clarified, waving her hand to the card in Belle's hand.

The card was thick and felt expensive. The black italic text was embossed into the card, with a fancy chain looking border around the edge. It had been surreal to see her name, 'Miss Isabelle French', printed at the top of the card, with 'You're formally invited to indulge yourself in a night of passion and desire.' written underneath it. 'Lots of sucking, licking and fucking' at the bottom of the invitation, had caught her eye.

"The exhibition?" Belle had questioned. "I couldn't possibly attend without Mr…" She had stopped herself and had glanced around them before settling her gaze on Cruella. "Without him."

Cruella's perfectly plucked right eyebrow had arched at her. "I didn't realise he was your keeper."

"He's not." Belle had disputed straight away. "I'd just feel more comfortable, if he was there, but he's out of town this weekend."

"Darling, you need not fret. I'll chaperone you for the evening, if you'd like." Cruella had offered, while her eyes had fallen from Belle's face to briefly admire her body, and had seamlessly lifted back up to Belle's face.

"I'm really not sure." Belle had confessed, uneasy with the decision.

Cruella had held the ends of her fur-wrap as she had slipped off the stool, saying to Belle. "There's no rush, Bambi. My number is on the back of the card." Belle had flipped the card over to see the handwritten phone number. "Just text me a simple 'yes', if you choose to come without the old ball and chain."

And that's exactly what Belle had done, Thursday evening. After lying in bed for some time, staring at the invitation that was propped up against the base of her lamp, she had sent Cruella a simple 'yes' as Cruella had instructed. Attending the exhibition would be beneficial to her education, she had told herself, whilst she had typed out the three-letter word. Unlike the first time, when she had been exposed to his world. She was more open-minded now. The scene of District Attorney Spencer and Mrs Belfrey was less horrific now, when she recalled the evening. It was, after all, what he had wanted for her: 'I want…to enlighten you'. Why not see some of it first hand?

Pressing her lips into a thin line, Belle wondered again, for the millionth time that week, where Mr Gold was that weekend. It had been the early hours of Monday morning, when she had received a message from him, stating he had been called out of town on business and possibly wouldn't be back until the following week. She hadn't known what else she could've said to him, apart from a simple 'Okay' to his message. 'This isn't a relationship', Belle had repeatedly told herself as she had fought the urge to take an interest. Being too persistent could also give him the wrong idea, and Belle wanted to avoid him having another 'overreaction'. Plus, the break could be good for them, she had told herself. Giving her a chance to further digest Wednesday night's candid honesty and their exploits from Friday night.

Belle bit her lip, while vividly feeling the burn of the ropes around her wrists and ankles as she had fought against them. Clenching her inner muscles, she could feel the ghost of his hands touching her, caressing her, fingering her until she was a hot wild mess. Mr Gold could've suggested anything and she would've done it. He could've bargained her into any deal and she would have agreed to it. Freely trading her soul for the chance to orgasm. Licking her lips at the memory, no man had ever worked her into such a frenzy before, taunting her with one single word – Soon. It felt like hours till he finally let her have her release. Fucking her so hard, she had forgotten everything and had let go, soaring so high, she hadn't wanted to come back… Until Belle had heard his voice. Her third orgasm of the night had totally wiped her out, taking her into a tired induced oblivion.

Belle smirked as she bent her head forward, bashfully ashamed of the comment she said out loud, whilst she walked along the driveway. "Didn't get me to beg though, did you?"

Though, she was slightly gloomy, at the prospect of not seeing Mr Gold this weekend. Belle was also exhilarated to have the chance to be… Her. Be the woman she had been at college. Brave and bold, doing whatever or whomever she wanted. While she was uneasy with attending the Club on her own, Belle knew there was nothing to fear. From what she had read and experienced with Mr Gold, she understood that she was in control herself, no matter who was the dominant or the submissive. And, for some strange reason, Belle felt safe, knowing Cruella would be there too.

The tall hedges suddenly ended, opening out onto the immaculate front lawn of the mansion. Dotted around the outskirts of the front garden were spotlights, highlighting the large hedgerow that enclosed the front of the mansion, sheltering it from the prying eyes of anyone passing by on the road. It was hard to consider that this beautiful place had been hidden, sort of in plain sight, all of these years. Belle couldn't even count the number of times she had passed it. Never noticing the driveway or the neatly trimmed hedge guarding the perimeter. Although, she was thankful for the seclusion it offered, because if anyone from town had seen her, walking down the driveway to the mansion and knew about the Club, her father would've known before she had reached the front steps. With things so strained between them, she neither wanted nor needed him finding out about the Club or who she visited there.

Belle breathed out heavily through her nose, annoyed with her father, for the conversation they'd had before she'd left for the evening. Money. It was a problem again. Coming home from Granny's to find her father sitting unusually in the kitchen, laptop and ledger in front of him, head cradle in his hands, she had known something was wrong before he said anything. The spare cash she had given him the week prior was gone. There was just enough money coming in to cover the bills and the rent, but there wasn't enough to cover the loan payment he owed to Mr Gold. Hence, his visit Wednesday night.

"Dove came by the shop earlier and told me, if I don't find the first instalment by tomorrow, Gold's going to take the van on Monday morning! If he takes my van, I can't work and then we'll lose everything!" Her father had confessed, throwing his hands up to indicate everything around them.

Stood in the doorway of the kitchen, clutching her keys in a tight fist, Belle had been ready to murder him. All week, she had worked relentlessly, covering all the free hours at Granny's to bring in some extra cash, and her father had dropped the biggest bombshell on her. She should've been used to it. The number of times he had managed to pull her down into the deep rut he was digging for himself, was getting beyond a joke. How many times did she need to bail him out? Give up her hard-earned cash to help him? Work herself to the point of exhaustion to keep a roof over their heads?

The extra two hundred bucks she had earned that week, wouldn't be enough to cover the first instalment of her father's loan. It would merely scratch the surface of the three thousand he owed. Belle hadn't said anything to him, not until she had come down, ready to leave for the Club. Her heels had clicked upon entering the kitchen, where her father had still been sitting, clearly staring at the numbers on the laptop and in his ledger. The roll of money in her hand was heavy as she had tossed it to land in front of him with a thud.

Her father had baulked back in his seat, gawking at the thick roll of bills in front of him. "Where'd you get this from?"

"Never mind where I got it from." Belle had told him, coldly, while opening up her clutch purse to get her phone. "There's your three thousand. Make sure Dove gets it, first thing tomorrow."

"Belle, where did this come from?" He had insisted, holding the roll up by the tips of his fingers.

"You don't need to know. Just give it to Dove." She had enforced her previous statement before she had swivelled on the balls of her feet and had left, walking straight out the front door, without looking back.

Waiting for the taxi, Belle had directed them to pick her up from the nearby park, giving her a chance to reign in her anger. Her heels had harshly scraped the sidewalk as she had marched at a fast pace. Enraged with her father, but also aggravated with Mr Gold. Not because of the loan, the rent or anything to do with her father. Simply, because he wasn't going to be there tonight. Because, no matter what happened tonight, no one would send her soaring like he could. That being with him, made everything feel okay. As being held in his arms, for a few minutes, when the rules were forgotten and intimacy was allowed, drowned out all of her worries.

It was as she had paced the street corner, near the local park, her thoughts had mulled over last Wednesday night, like they did nearly every day. His statement had been irritating and confusing at the same time. Mr Gold had made it clear that being more intimate was off the cards. Even saying her name would be too much for him. Yet, he didn't like the idea of her having a boyfriend, a fake one at that, which was why it was confusing. Not liking something, meant there were feelings, and if there were feelings, there was intimacy. Groaning at her thoughts, she had dropped her head down, cursing the conundrum he had given her. Without the other, his statement made no sense. She should forget what he had said. Explain it away with male pride, but her heart had thudded in protest, desperate to hang onto the possibility that there could be more between them.

When Belle had been sitting in the back of the taxi, she had shaken her head at the thoughts pestering her. It was hard to ignore them, to mute the hopes of her heart, but there was no use in hoping for something, when it was obvious, it was something he didn't want. As far back as she could remember, Mr Gold had been single. She was deluding herself with her childish fantasies, if she contemplated, for just a second, that he'd been waiting for her. That somehow, she could change his mind. It had been because of one of these foolish thoughts, she had worn the lingerie. Wanting to please him, entice him, provoke him into throwing her down onto the floor, fucking her without any regard. Belle rolled her eyes at herself; confident Mr Gold hadn't needed the lingerie to fuck her without any care.

Her wrists could attest to that.

She was brought out of musings, when a large silver Mercedes rolled by her and pulled up in front of the steps of the mansion. The front driver's door opened and a man, who looked like a chauffeur, got out, and reached for the rear passenger door behind his door. Belle was nearing the back of the car, when a woman's slender leg stepped out of the car, followed by another leg. The chauffeur shifted, blocking Belle's view as he aided, whoever it was, out of the car. Her eyes shifted to the other side of the car, when the door opened and watched an older gentleman, dressed in a suit with a phone pressed to his ear, get out of the other side.

"Do whatever needs to be done, Carol." The gentleman said, while turning to close his door.

"Thank you, Paul." A female voice said to the chauffeur as she started up the steps into the mansion.

Her husband ambled around the back of the car, following his wife, and proceeded up the stairs in front of Belle. Glancing at their car, Belle could see they had money – blacked out windows, very large alloy wheels, leather seats and probably had all the addons available. The car looked brand new, like it had rolled off the production line that very morning. She paused on the third step, watching the chauffeur as he pulled away, envious of their wealth.

"Miss French?" A voice called to her from the top of the stairs.

Snapping her gaze from the Mercedes to the bodiless voice, Belle smiled, when she saw Giles at the top of the steps. "Giles," she started to say as she climbed the steps to join him. "I've told you to call me, Belle."

"Not tonight." Giles glanced back into the foyer. "Not with everyone here."

"Everyone?" She queried, halting next to him, peering past him into the busy foyer for herself.

Directing his gaze down to his iPad, he tapped at it a few times before he said. "I don't see a booking for Mr Gold." He raised his attention to her, meeting her gaze with a sorrowful expression on his face. "Tonight's invite only."

Belle clicked the button on her clutch purse and the flap sprung open, allowing her to slip her inside and take out her invitation to hand to Giles. "Good job, I've got one."

"Oh…" He shyly took it from her, flipping it over to read her name in large italic font, embossed into white card. "Right… Okay. I'll mark that you've arrived." Giles handed her invitation back to her, and tapped and swiped at the screen of the iPad.

"Erm… Giles…" She edged closer to him and asked. "Where should I go?"

"Right… Yes… Erm…" Giles glanced at the foyer before he said. "The old smoking room would be where… I'd start. Go through the foyer, down the left side of the stairs and take the last door on the left."

Beaming him a smile, she touched his arm, telling him. "Thank you."

As Belle moved to walk into the foyer, Giles asked her. "Do you want me to let you know when Mr Gold arrives?"

"No." She shook her head at him. "He's not coming tonight."

"Oh…" He uttered, causing Belle to pause. "If…" He looked by her into the foyer, where a crowd of people had now gathered. "If you have any problems, I'm on duty all night."

His concern for her touched her, but it made her apprehensive. "I'll bear that in mind." She held his gaze for another second before nodding her head at him. "Thank you, Giles." And turned to enter the exhibition.

The mass of people had dispersed, leaving some couples and small groups of people in the foyer. Belle's gait slowed to take in the woman, knelt on the circular table in the middle of the foyer, bound and wrapped in ropes. Two stripes of ropes lapped around her chest, bunched into three lashes each, squeezing and bulging out her breasts. Her left cheek was pressed into the smooth surface of the table, her arms bound behind her back. The ropes around her thighs were also tied around her upper arms, keeping her in the position someone had left her in. Decorating the edge of the table were trays of hors d'oeuvres and sex toys. Slightly raising an eyebrow at the scene, Belle skirted around the table and headed for the hallway Giles had told her to take to the smoking room.

Glancing through the opening into one of the large sitting rooms, her eyes widened at the room. The furniture had been moved to the edge of the room, giving the people watching somewhere to sit. Scrutinising the room, the first contraption restraining a… very well-endowed man, was a large wooden cross, in the form of an X. He was blindfolded with his hands bound above his head, his legs were also part and secured to the cross, baring the sensitive areas of his body to everybody. Her gaze flicked back to him as she moved her gaze to the woman with her head and hands protruding from a plank of wood, locked in an old-style stock. Belle swallowed, observing the woman squeeze her eyes shut, moaning as the woman behind her fingered her, chatting to the man standing beside them, holding two drinks in their hands. The next woman in the display was in another form a stock, locked into the wooden contraption, keeping her down on her knees, whilst a man stood behind her, flicking a flogger at her already pink butt cheeks. The last display was a man, who was sitting in a large wooden chair, with a high back, and was shackled to the arms and legs of the chair. Eyes wide, she watched as the woman stood above the man in the chair, a leg thrown over the back, thrusting her pussy onto his face, ordering him to make her come.

Six weeks ago, Belle would've been running for the door, escaping into the night, scared of what it said about herself, if she got turned on by such depravity. Today, as she looked from each member, captivated in each apparatus, Belle was eager for Mr Gold to strap her into one. She bit her lower lip, picturing herself in the old-style stockade, as she moseyed away from the opening to the hallway, Giles had indicated.

Holding her purse in front of her, clasping it with both of her hands, Belle kept to one side of the hallway, allowing the couple approaching her to pass her easily, while her thoughts were trained on Mr Gold. She couldn't stop thinking that she had done something wrong. On the drive home, he had been quieter than usual. No, when he had woken her, it had been like he was too scared to touch her. The other times she had fallen asleep, Mr Gold had woken her by stroking his fingers down the side of her face, softly calling her name. Friday, he had kind of poked her, rocked her shoulder, keeping the contact to a minimal. Belle hadn't thought much about it at the time. Yet, the more the week progressed, the more it came to mind.

Just like Mr Gold going out of town. It wasn't rare for him to go out of town, leaving Dove to take care of the pawn shop and all his other businesses. Except her mind kept trying to tie it to Friday night. Had he left town, because of something she had done? Was that why he had acted strangely, when he had woken her and taken her home? Had she pushed him - With the lingerie? About using her forename? Being too forward? Was there something she could've said to make it better?

Pushing the troubling thoughts down, Belle glanced through an open doorway in the corridor, as she passed it, seeing the dark room lit by candles. A man and a woman were lying on the rug in the middle of the floor. Both of them were naked, with metal bars spreading out their arms and legs, lying opposed to one another. Shrouded in the candlelight around the two on the floor, were a man and three women. The man handed a lit candle to the furthest woman, who shuffled forward, closer to the woman on the floor, and steadily poured the melted wax into the valley of the woman's breasts. The naked woman arched her back and the metal bars chinked and clunked as she twisted her body, hissing loudly. Quickly, it morphed into groan at the end of her breath, whilst the hot wax burned a path down the centre of her stomach, splaying off into jagger paths down to her sides. A pinky white trail was left on her skin, from where the wax had cooled. In the darkness of the room, it looked like there were other people in there, observing from the shadows, but with only a glance, she wasn't sure.

As Belle continued down the corridor, two women passed her, both of them eyed her from head to toe. Giving them a nervy smile, she carried on to the smoking room. They were whispering behind her, making her self-conscious as she walked away. Her step quickened and as soon as she could, she ducked through the last doorway on the left, into the 'old smoking room'.

The room was a large square. Dark red leather chairs were paired together, with a small table sat between them, decorated with coasters, an ashtray and a random sex toy. In the far corner of the room, was a bar area with bar stools sat in front of it. Taking the straightest path to the bar, Belle let her gaze roam around the room until she came to the two women and a man stood by a wall. The man was in the middle of the two women. All of them had their gaze trained on the wall opposite them.

The women were dressed in sexy maids' outfits. The skimpier the better, must have been the brief for their outfits. Both were wearing a bra with cut-outs for their nipples and the shortest possible skirt. One had on normal stockings, connected to a gaiter, while the other had fishnet stockings on. Their pussies were exposed, one was completely waxed, the other was trimmed into a small cluster of pubic hair. The man was just as exposed as they were, with his cock and balls hanging out of a hole, where the fly had been removed from his trousers. The black bow tie and collar topped off his chiselled chest and washboard abs. Her gaze lingered on him the longest, travelling down his tone chest to his presented dick and back up, unable to stop herself from retracing her gaze as she placed her clutch purse onto the bar.

There was the sound of wheels speaking out in the hallway before the sound of bottles chinking entered the room. Looking to the doorway, a man dressed in a similar outfit to the other man, except the fly of his trousers hadn't been cut away, wheeled what appeared to be a drinks trolley into the room. He smiled, when his gaze met with Belle's. The man's chest wasn't as defined as the other man, but there was enough to say he worked out.

"Would you like a drink, ma'am?" He asked, while pushing the cart through a tight gap between two clusters of chairs.

"Large rum and coke, please." Belle told him, curiously eyeing the three who stood by the wall.

The cart squeaked to a stop at the end of the bar. "Don't worry about them. They're house servants waiting for instructions."

"Oh…" She raised her eyebrows. "Instructions from who?"

He moved behind the bar, twisting to look at the three in question, telling Belle. "From anyone."

Belle moved her attention to the man behind the bar. "So, I could give them an order and they have to do it?"

With a wide smile, he bent down to grab a large glass from under the counter and said to her as he stood up. "I take it, it's your first time."

"That obvious?" She queried.

"To me, yeah, but everyone's gotta start somewhere." He then offered her his hand to shake. "I'm Ethan. I'm one of the Club's barmen."

She shook his hand. "Belle."

"Dominant, submissive, or up for anything?" Ethan casually asked her as he turned his back to her, shovelling a scoop of ice into her glass.

Her eyes widened at his question. "I…" He peered over his shoulder at her. "I would say, possibly, submissive."

His lips pursed together before he turned away, reaching for a bottle on the back row of the spirits. "You don't sound very sure."

"To be honest, this is all still new to me." She watched him as he poured three quick measures of rum into her glass. "I was told, I needed to be enlightened."

"Ah, so you're a vanilla, who's being converted, but have no clue what you like." He deduced, turning to face her with her glass half full with rum and ice, and set it down on a tray, underneath one of the beer taps, and grabbed the soda dispenser, discharging the coke into her glass, all in one motion.

"Something like that." Belle chuckled at his summary.

Perching his left arm on top of another beer tap, Ethan asked her, while watching her glass. "And who has the pleasurable task of converting you?"

Her lips parted, ready to speak, but the words got caught in her throat, for a split second, until she rationalised it was fine to say his name there. "Mr Gold."

The coke filling her glass abruptly stopped, whilst Ethan gawked at her. "Mr Gold?"

"Yes, Mr Gold." She confirmed.

"Oh…" There was a distinct pause before Ethan said anything else, pressing the button on the dispenser at the same time. "I heard rumours that he was back, but I hadn't seen him downstairs, when I opened the bar for the evening."

Belle watched Ethan as he stopped the coke and tapped the button, carefully spurting out short measures to top up her drink. "We've been upstairs."

"Really…?" He questioned, slumping his shoulders, leaning heavily on the beer tap his arm was draped over.

"Yeah… Why? Is that a problem?" She asked, frowning at him, uncomfortable with his disbelief.

"No! No, not at all… It's just…" Ethan paused to think, his eyes on her drink, and said to her as he moved her drink onto the bar in front of her and unhooked his arm. "It's just unusual for him, that's all. I don't remember him ever taking anyone upstairs. Even when he was doing his Mr Grey routine."

"Mr Grey?" It was her turn to be confused.

He chuckled at her question. "When Fifty Shades came out as a book, we had a lot of the female members wanting a Mr Grey scene. So, Mrs Mills used to give them to Mr Gold." A smirk pulled back the right side of his mouth. "Those women left here with huge grins on their faces, I can tell you that."

"I bet they did." Belle grumbled, instantly jealous.

Ethan held up his hand to indicate her. "You, no doubt, know what I mean."

"Yes," She forced herself to smile at him as she picked up her glass. "I do." And sipped her drink, casting her gaze out of the window at the end of the bar.

As Belle set her drink down on the bar, she knew the jealousy poisoning her heart was irrational. Mr Gold was probably about the same age as her father. Had a grown son of his own. He'd had a life before he had moved to Storybrooke. A life where, given her surroundings and the secret life he led, Mr Gold had fucked many women. God, a man didn't fuck as good as him without being with several women. Hundreds, even. But nevertheless, whilst staring out of the window at the bay, beyond the gardens, Belle was sick with envy.

Her thoughts gained momentum and twisted from resentful musings to suspicious ideas of where he'd been all week. Saying he was 'called away on business' was easy to say. It didn't mean he was away on business, or that it was 'business' business and not 'personal' business. Personal meaning another woman. The sweet taste of the rum and coke soured in her mouth as her lips pursed tightly together. Did he attend another sex club? Was there someone else that needed 'enlightening'?

'…heard rumours that he was back', echoed in her thoughts. Had he stopped coming to the Club? Had he been going somewhere else instead? Belle wasn't sure what Ethan had meant or what to make of it, but her heart quickened at the thought of it.

"This is not a relationship." Belle whispered under her breath as she lifted her drink to take a sip of it.

"Did you say something?" Ethan asked, popping his head up from below the bar.

Embarrassed that he might have heard her, she smiled nervously at him and shook her head as she put her glass down. "No, just talking to myself."

"Watch it, you might find you'll fulfil someone's fantasy by doing that." He warned, whilst standing up, hefting a cellophane wrapped tray of beer bottles onto the counter, on his side of the bar.

Scrunching her brow at him, she questioned his warning. "Really?"

He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and pulled out what appeared to be a bottle opener, with several attachments, one being a small knife he flicked out with his thumb. "I don't know. I wouldn't say no, you never know. That's why people come here. To fulfil their fantasies. Isn't that why you came here?"

"No." Belle chuckled, rolling her eyes, while he stabbed the plastic wrap covering the beer bottles. "I came to give my friend morale support."

"And now, you can't get enough of the place?" He probed, running his knife through the plastic.

"You could say that." She lied to him, thinking to herself, 'More I can't get enough of him'.

The bottles chinked inside of the plastic as Ethan masterfully picked out three bottles with one hand, placing them on the counter beside the tray of beers, taking another three out with his other hand. "Well, things are going to kick off soon. You'll want to make your way to the ballroom, where they're going to be kicking things off."

"It hasn't started yet?" She questioned, confused.

He smiled, crossing his arms to put three bottles of beer with the others, while grabbing another three. "There's some pre-appetisers for the guests, but everyone's going to be congregating in the ballroom," Ethan paused to look at an antique mantel clock, sitting over the fireplace, on the other side of the room. "In the next couple of minutes."

Swivelling on her stool, Belle slipped off it and straightened the skirt of her dress, while picking up her drink, saying to him. "I better make my way through then."

"Whatever you do, stay on the outskirts of the room, if you don't want to be involved." Ethan advised her, turning to open the fridge under the counter lining the wall.

"Oh… Right, okay." His advice made her take a breath. "Thank you."

He smiled at her as he started to transfer the bottles into the fridge. "No problem. Enjoy yourself."

Belle glimpsed at Ethan and then the 'house servants' as she retraced her earlier path through the clusters of chairs. Her drink sat on top of her clutch purse, whilst she stopped outside of the smoking room door and looked either way, finding an open doorway into another hallway on her left and the stretch of hallway she had already taken to get to the smoking room. She had no clue where the ballroom was located. Apart from the previous Saturday, when Giles had escorted her to the red lounge, this was the most Belle had explored the ground floor of the Club.

"Ethan." Belle called to him, whilst edging back into the doorway.

He turned his head to look at her, from where he was squatted, his arms inside of the fridge. "Yeah?"

Sheepishly, she glanced behind her before she told him. "I don't know where the ballroom is."

"No problem." Ethan told her and stood up, using the edge of the counter above him to aid him. "Becky, escort Belle to the ballroom and come straight back."

The woman nearest to Belle stepped forward, saying. "Yes, sir." And quickly scooted across the room to Belle, avoiding eye contact with her as she waved Belle out of the room.

"Thank you." Belle told her, falling into step behind her as she marched through the open doorway.

"I live to serve the house, ma'am." Her response sounded monotone, whilst she led Belle down the hallway, crossing the width of the house.

Her response triggered Belle's eyebrows to push up her brow, staggered by Becky's response. It was normally Belle, who'd be calling people 'sir' and 'ma'am', whilst working at either Granny's or her father's shop. Depending who it was, of course. But being on the receiving end of such a title was strange. Everyone mostly called her by her name. When she'd go to the grocery store and ask for something behind the counter, 'Sure thing, Belle'. At the bars and restaurants, it would always be, 'Hey, Belle. What can I get ya?'. The Chinese, when they realised it was her, would say, 'Oh, hallo Belle, yes, yes, no problem'. She couldn't remember an occasion at college, when someone had actually called her 'ma'am'.

The corridor ended with a T-junction and Becky took the left doorway without hesitation, keeping her pace, while Belle slowed to look through the other doorways. The doorway at the end of the hallway led into the red lounge, while the one on her right cut back through into the foyer. Her gaze lingered as she noted the basement entrance was feet away.

'I don't remember him ever taking anyone upstairs', repeated in her mind. Belle didn't want to dwell on it too much. It was bad enough her heart and mind were now joining forces. Clinging to small snippets Ethan had given away. Setting off at a quick pace to catch up with Becky, she blocked the thoughts that the comment provoked.

Slowing her pace to stop in front of Becky, who had stopped to stand beside a large open doorway, her gaze fixed on the opposing wall, Belle peeped into the room. Her mouth opened at the amount of people in the ballroom. Some were dressed casually; others were in suits and cocktail dresses. Some were wearing leather outfits, while others were in what Belle believed were gimp suits – men and women. Then, there were those that were completely naked, unashamed, as they mingled with everyone else, waiting for the evening to commence.

"Thank you, Becky." She said to Becky, slowly going into the room.

In the same monotone as before, Becky responded with. "I live to serve the house, ma'am."

Half turning her upper body, Belle went to look back at Becky, but found she had gone, heading back to the smoking room, per her instruction from Ethan. Alone again, she nervously licked her lips, feeling completely out of her depth as she turned back to face the horde of people in the room. There was lots of chatter. Hundreds of conversations taking place, all at the same time. It was overwhelming to see so many people in one room.

Belle searched the perimeter of the room, trying to find herself a quiet spot to stand, and found one near the French doors, leading out onto the large porch before descending to a patio area. Shifting through the crowd to the spot she had seen, she gave brief smiles to those that stepped out of her way, whispering in hush tones to their companion(s), while they gave her a once over. Her emotions were mixed as she ignored the intrigued gazes, their interest clear in their eyes. It was one thing to deal with the odd guy at a bar or a club, but a whole room? The experience was daunting. She could feel all of their eyes following her, tracking her like she was the prey for the evening. 'Bambi, indeed', she thought to herself, reaching the spot she had seen across the room.

"Hello, all you beautiful darlings!" A voice called out above the crowded ballroom, silencing all the murmuring in the room.

Lifting her gaze, like everyone else, Belle's eyes widened at the balcony area encircling the room, where her gaze zeroed in on where Cruella stood, addressing the room below, with Regina on her left and Regina's mother on her right. "Welcome to the Club's eleventh annual exhibition. We're so grateful, you all were able to attend our little soirée this evening."

"I told you, Cruella had organised things tonight." A dark-haired man whispered to the brown haired, bearded man standing next to him. "Man, we're all gonna get fucked up."

The bearded man shrugged his shoulders. "Can't be any worse than last year."

The dark-haired man leaned into his friend, whispering slightly louder. "None of them, though, put on a show like Gold did."

Hearing his name being mentioned drew Belle's gaze as Cruella said. "We are honoured, as always, to welcome our members from our New York club." There were some hoots and cheers from several people in the room. "And tonight, darlings, we're all in for some rather naughty fun."

The whole crowd erupted into cheer. Standing quite still, Belle observed everyone as their cheer died down into excited chatter, nudging and moving closer to their cohorts.

"Quieten down, you perverts!" Cruella commanded, gesturing with her hands for them to settle down. "I haven't even told you what tonight entails."

The room did her bidding, triggering Cruella's bright red lips to widen into a sickly smile before going through the evening's events. "There'll be the usual favourites – the stock room, suspension room and the orgy room." A man cheered, somewhere off to Belle's right, causing a few giggles and chuckles, and some others to join in on his cheer.

"Mrs Mills" Silence wiped out the din of the room. "Will be disciplining all you naughty boys and girls in the red lounge." Cruella turned to Mrs Mills. "I think you're going to have your work cut out for you tonight."

"The naughtier, the better." Mrs Mills crooned and smiled down at everyone, showing her perfect white teeth, framed in a darker shade of red lipstick.

Mrs Cora Mills, Belle regarded, studying the older woman, whilst Cruella carried on with informing every one of the evening's activities. '…when you played with Cora…', came to mind as Mrs Mills roamed her eyes over the sea of heads below. It was rare to see Mrs Mills in town. The Mills lived on the outskirts of town, deep in the woods, near the coastline. Belle had served her a couple of times in her father's shop, fulfilling the large orders she put in for the parties she held, from time to time. Those few times she had met Mrs Mills, Belle had always felt the older woman looking down at her. Judging her with a critical eye. Something she had never felt with Mr Gold.

As the comment replayed over in her mind, Belle couldn't stop herself from wondering what Mr Gold had seen in Mrs Mills. Granted, sex was sex, and the two of them were in the prestige group of wealthy people in Storybrooke. Bar that, Belle felt the two of them were worlds apart. Where Mr Gold could be ruthless and unforgiving at times, he could also be compassionate to those who were genuinely hard up. In comparison, Mrs Mills talked down to everyone, used and exploited everyone, who had happened to get in her way. If the rumours were true, she had manipulated Mr Blanchard into selling his lucrative textiles business to her husband, before he had decided to choke himself on the barrel of his gun. The thought of Mr Gold, ever wanting to 'play' with such an awful woman, left her with the taste of bile at the back of her mouth. Especially as Cruella's off the cuff comment, made it sound like it had happened quite a few times.

"Of course, our seedy little dungeon is open to all members." Cruella apprised everyone, wrapping up her little speech. "We ask for everyone to remain downstairs, unless they're booked to stay in the suites upstairs. The bars will be open on both floors, with a selection of house servants at either bar and they'll also be located in most of the rooms." Clasping her hands together, she finished with. "With that said, darlings, go fuck and be sordid!"

The occupants of the ballroom all cheered and clapped, almost deafening Belle, while she clutched her purse and her drink close to her chest. A bystander in their festivities. As the ladies, on the balcony above, turned to one another, the applause and merriment naturally diminished. The chatter slowly built up as people began to wander out of the room, heading for the room of their desire.

While the thickness of the crowd dispersed, Belle noticed, there had been a double bed in the middle of the crowd. A lot of the people, who had remained in the ballroom, were loitering around the edge of the bed, watching the couple on the bed perform a sixty-nine, totally enthralled with sucking and licking their counterpart. With fewer bodies standing around the bed, Belle could hear the distinct sound of the bed creaking and the slurping of the woman, vigorously going down on the man's cock. Staring at them, she was astonished, they could do that in front of so many people gawking at them.

"Bambi, darling." Cruella's voice crooned sweetly.

Breathing in through her nose, Belle turned her head to the sound of the voice, greeting Cruella with a soft smile. "Hi, Cruella."

"I'll admit, I did think that you might not come tonight." She confessed, coming to stand partially at Belle's side, thrusting her hip out to the left, resting her fist on the curve of it.

"Believe me, I'd rather be here than at home." Belle admitted, with her gaze straying to the couple on the bed, who had changed position to the woman being on top.

Cruella casted her eye in the direction of Belle's gaze. "I had hoped Shorty would come."

"Shorty?" Her smirk was wide as she peered at Cruella from the corner of her eye.

"Well…" Cruella brought her gaze back to Belle. "Adam is compared to me."

"Yes, I supposed he is, but I doubt he'll be here tonight. He said he'd be out of town on business." Belle informed her and sipped her rum and coke, remembering she had a drink.

The grin on Cruella's face, caused Belle's stomach to roll, and not in a good way. "That used to be code for going to fuck or going to the Club, for many of the members." The curve of her right shoulder bounced dismissively. "Boys will be boys."

"Yes, they are." Her voice was a mere whisper as she responded, turning her face away, hiding her revulsion at Cruella's comment.

"Anyway, enough about that tricky imp." A hand touched the bare skin of her left shoulder, bringing Belle's attention back round to Cruella. "Let me show you around."

Gently, the hand on Belle's shoulder propelled her forward as Cruella said. "Have you been in any of the rooms yet?"

"I've not really been in any of the rooms, but I think I saw the stock room and a room where people were pouring wax on a man and a woman." She divulged to Cruella.

Cruella smiled. "Ah, yes, the wax room." Her hand touched Belle's left forearm as they walked out of the ballroom. "Not a favourite of mine, darling. I enjoy being the pain giver, not the receiver."

Ethan's question from earlier sprung to mind. "So, would that make you dominant?"

"It depends on my mood at the time, but more than likely. For the right person, I can be submissive. Sadly, that's rather rare these days." She confessed, guiding Belle to the left out of the double doorway of the ballroom.

"Would Mr Gold be the right person?" Belle asked, intrigued, while also faintly green-eyed.

"Do you call him 'Mr Gold', when you're fucking?" Cruella asked, bluntly.

"Not that I'm aware of." She answered her question in an unsure tone, crinkling her brow as she flicked back through her memories, trying to recall.

Stepping to one side, Cruella ushered Belle through a doorway and shadowed her into the room. "Knowing him, he'd get a kick out of it. Too much of a dominant, not to have control."

The room was enormous. There were two large windows at either end of the room. The walls were lined with bookcases, all filled to the brim with books. Belle scanned the shelves, amazed with the display of assorted coloured spines. Big, small, thin, fat books - all lined the shelves. Her fingers itched to touch them. Slide a random book from a shelf and skim its contents, hungry to devour it before moving onto the next book on the shelf. It would take, easily, a lifetime or two to read the contents of the room.

"It's quite beautiful, isn't it?" Cruella said, in a low voice, into Belle's ear, remaining somewhat behind her.

Belle bit her lip before she spoke. "It's like a dream."

"Really, darling?" Sidestepping around Belle to see her face, Cruella smirked at Belle. "Would you like me to put you down on the list to go next?"

"What?" She sobered and looked at Cruella before looking around the room properly.

In the centre of the room, was a woman suspended from the ceiling on a thin strain of wire, which at the end had a hook, where the rope lashed around the woman had been secured. She hung upside down. The placement of the ropes was similar to the woman on display in the foyer. Three stripes of ropes were like a single band around her body. Wrapping around her thighs, her hips and her chest. The lashing of ropes around her chest were intricately woven around her breasts to constrict them. The ropes appeared to converge together, near the woman's right knee, knotted and laced into one binding that hung from the hook on the wire. The woman hung perfectly still, her long multi-coloured hair draped down, almost touching the polished floor. Her arms were secured to the ropes laced around her thighs, tying the woman up into a pose. It was very artistic and not something Belle was expecting to see.

There were four other people being prepared to be suspended – a man and three women. They were all being elaborately wrapped in rope, ready to be hung on the wires, dangling down from the ceiling in each corner of the room. Teasingly, the hook waved back and forth in front of their faces. Belle was bewildered, she had missed them all, when she had first entered the room.

"Which would you prefer, darling? Being just hung? Or being fucked and hung?" Cruella asked, smiling sweetly as she waved her hand towards the people on display.

"Neither." Belle told her quickly, worried Cruella would make her do it.

Her smile slightly lost its broadness as she said. "Shame." Then grew bolded again. "We could've had some fun."

'A beautiful young woman like you, why wouldn't she be interested in you?', his statement was reaffirmed as Cruella directed further into the room and gestured for her to take a seat on a large red velvet sofa. The corners of Belle's lips twitched at his question, while she sat down, gingerly placing her drink and purse on the small end table, positioned by the arm of the sofa nearest her. Her mind had twisted his remark, causing her to grin, while she had followed him down the corridor to their room. Posing a new question to Belle – A beautiful young woman like you, why wouldn't he be interested in you, either? The charge of the question hadn't helped her. So much so, she had to avoid Mr Gold's gaze as she had entered the room, fearing he'd know from meeting her gaze, that she was thinking about him fucking her over the desk in his study.

"You, come here." Cruella ordered, pointing to the male house servant, standing beside a female house servant.

He quickly came over to them. "Yes, ma'am."

Cruella sat back on the sofa, telling the older man. "Get me the dirtiest gin from the bar."

"Yes, ma'am." He bowed his head to her. "I live to serve the house." And dashed from the room.

"What's with the house servants?" Belle asked, raising an eyebrow at the retreating form of the male house servant.

Shifting her hips to face more towards Belle, Cruella lined the top of the sofa with her arm, her fingers in touching distance of Belle's shoulder. "They're roleplaying."

"They're guests?" She angled her head to look at Cruella.

"Oh, of course, darling." Cruella shifted along the sofa, moving her arm to stretch the length behind Belle. "They're all invited members of the Club, who have a fetish to serve. When we have the exhibition, those members become house servants for the evening, doing whatever anyone wants them to do." Her hand aimlessly gestured as she spoke. "Fetch drinks. Masturbate the guests, be fucked or punished by them. It's totally up to who's giving the instruction."

"So, they don't have a choice?" She asked Cruella as the male house servant came into the room, bringing Cruella her drink, his exposed cock attracting Belle's eye.

The man offered the drink to Cruella and inquired after Cruella took it. "Is there anything else I can do for you, ma'am?"

Cruella sipped her drink, looking wickedly at Belle over the rim of her glass as she did, and said to the male house servant. "Get down on your knees."

In no time, the male house servant was down on his knees. "Yes, ma'am."

Moving on the sofa to face him, Cruella lifted her leg, offering him her foot. "Lick up my leg."

"Yes, ma'am." He said as he claimed her foot and set to work on licking the top of Cruella's foot.

Belle sat, wide-eyed, staring at the man as he stuck out the whole of his tongue, eagerly licking Cruella's ankles. "But does he really want to do it?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" Cruella shoved her foot out of the man's hold and prodded her big toe into his bare chest. "Do you want to lick my leg?"

"Yes, ma'am. More than anything. I live to serve the house." He answered, claiming Cruella's leg again and licked a long strip up her shin.

Casually, Cruella turned her attention to Belle, while sipping her drink, and asked. "Did that answer your question?"

Pushing her eyebrows together, Belle tore her baffled gaze from the house servant, licking Cruella's knee, to Cruella's face. "But he can't be enjoying that."

"Because you think he isn't getting anything out of it?" She questioned, curving a plucked eyebrow at Belle. "It's not always about pleasure. Sometimes, darling, it's more about the act than physical stimulation."

Belle squinted her eyes in thought, watching the male house servant nudged the hem of Cruella's dress with his nose. The truth of Cruella's words was not lost on Belle. The evening at Mr Gold's house, the pretext of their roleplay, acting out her role as the disgruntled student, had been a major turn on. The banter of their argument had been its own little foreplay. And when she had knelt down in front of him, watching him unbuckle his belt and undo his trousers, she could feel her knickers had been soaked for him. She had been so turned on, so wet and ready for him, Mr Gold had thrusted himself completely into her in one motion. The sensation caused her eyes to roll to the back of her head, whilst a miniscule orgasm dazed her until he had slammed himself into her again, shunting his desk beneath her.

"Do you want him to do something for you, Belle?" Cruella queried, catching Belle off guard by using her actual name.

"No." She shook her head. "No, thank you."

"Awe…" Cruella scooped the servant's chin up into her hand and raised him up from her thigh. "You, poor boy, and you did such a good job for me."

The house servant's eyes were casted down at the seat of the sofa. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. I live to serve the house."

"Hmm… Yes, you do." She openly eyed him, assessing her prey. "Don't get running off. I've got plans for you."

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded his head at her.

Cruella took her hand from under his chin and shoved his face away. "Get back by the wall."

"Yes, ma'am. I live to serve the house." And the house servant scuttled off to retake his spot beside the female house servant.

Belle swallowed at seeing the man's semi erection, barely bobbing from side to side, obvious evidence he'd enjoyed licking Cruella's leg. Huffing out a quiet breath, she twisted herself to collect her drink from the end table and drank from it, annoyed she was still so ignorant. She had accepted pain could be pleasurable. The thought of being tied up didn't scare her anymore. Blindfolded had become one of her favourite things, along with being scratched – the harder the better. Yet, the thought of someone taking pleasure from something mundane or unorthodox was a hurdle she seemed unable to master.

Cruella got up, towering over Belle, and knocked back her gin, and said to Belle as she leaned over her to put her empty glass on the end table. "Come on, darling, let's find something else to corrupt your innocence."

"I'm not completely innocent, ya' know?" Belle claimed, pushing herself up from the sofa, turning briefly to grab her clutch purse from the end table.

"I should hope not with Adam as your mentor." Cruella commented, ushering Belle away from the sofa and to the doorway.

"Does he do this often?" She asked Cruella, glancing over her shoulder at her. "Take people under his wing, so to say."

A gentle hand touched Belle's lower back as the two of them went through a doorway, with Cruella saying. "He used to tutor a few people. With him being the most experienced Dom of the Club, Cora would pass him all of the newbies, who wanted to experience being a submissive."

Belle angled herself to see Cruella. "His Mr Grey routine?"

"Don't let him hear you say that." She chortled. "He hates everything to do with those books and films."

Another hand pressed onto her side, directing her through the door on her left at the T-junction. "Didn't they help to promote this sort of scene?"

"They did and they didn't." Cruella said as someone cried out in pain.

The outside of the large room was thickly lined with people, watching the scene taking place in the middle of the red carpet, which spread to cover most of the floor, leaving a few feet of wooden floor around the outskirts. Being pushed forward, Belle edged herself sideways, standing in front of some people. Someone was going to object, but Cruella quietened them with a look. Belle was fixed, like everyone else in the room, on the naked woman squatting in the middle of the carpet and the two men standing either side of her, naked, stroking their hard cocks. The woman had her arms outstretched, a silver tray on either hand, balancing two full glasses of water on both trays. Dangling between the woman's legs, looked to be a heavyweight, clipped to the skin surrounding her pussy. Clearly, it looked painful and uncomfortable. The glasses of water were quivering in time with the woman's shaking arms. Behind her, wearing only a black corset and stockings with black high heels was Mrs Mills.

If there was anything that could make Belle bolt, this was it.

"Don't think about lowering your arms, Josephine." The smooth voice of Mrs Mills sang, taunting the young woman.

"No, mistress." The young woman responded almost immediately, lifting her arms to straighten them.

The strains of a leather flogger flicked out and whipped across the unsuspecting back of the young woman, making her flinch. "You've been such a naughty girl, Josephine. I don't know whether you deserve the reward of these two beautiful cocks. Do you deserve them?"

"Yes, mistress." Josephine said, her tension evident in her voice.

Mrs Mills strutted from her spot to stand on Josephine's right side and snapped the flogger at the crouched woman, causing the glasses to slide on the trays. "Cheeky little madam! Aren't you, Josephine?"

"Yes, mistress." Her voice was croaky as Josephine unsteadily shifted her feet, watchful of the trays.

The flogger whipped out and thudded against Josephine's back. "For your cheek, I think I'll add a glass to both of your trays." Mrs Mills clicked her fingers and a house servant appeared out of the crowd, carrying two glasses of water. "Put those on the trays."

While the house servant crossed to the squatting Josephine, Belle chanced a glance at Cruella, who was standing beside her, arms crossed, zoned in on poor Josephine with an appreciative smile on her face. Scanning round the room, everyone had a look of glee on their faces. Enjoying the display Mrs Mills was putting on for them. It was hard to understand what all of them could be enjoying, or why Josephine would even put herself forward for something so humiliating.

"Ah, Miss French." Mrs Mills called her name, when their gazes happened to meet, for a split second. "Would you care to take Josephine's place?"

"No, thank you." Belle told her, sheepishly looking to Cruella beside her.

Waltzing around the three in the middle, Mrs Mills asked Josephine as she did. "Would you like Miss French to replace you, Josephine?"

"No, mistress!" She raised her voice a little, emphasising her stance.

The flogger flicked out, glancing Josephine between her legs, causing her to jump and the glasses to visibly shake on the trays. "Then keep those glasses steady and your arms outstretched." Mrs Mills then turned to Belle. "There's plenty of cock to go around. We could set you up beside Josephine, if you'd like?"

Belle repeated her earlier statement. "No, thank you."

"Oh, come now." Mrs Mills swaggered towards her, twisting the flogger round in her hand, swinging out the strains. "Being under the tutelage of one of our esteemed founders, I'd expect you to really enjoy being flogged by now."

Pursing her lips together, Belle refused to comment and Mrs Mills took advantage of Belle's silence, and leaned into her, saying in a low voice. "He must be so bored out of his mind, toning things down, because of your inexperience."

"Or, maybe that's why he isn't bored with me, like he got with you." She countered, holding Mrs Mills's gaze.

"He will be soon, because that man likes to fuck and he likes to fuck hard." Mrs Mills taunted, swinging the flogger at her side, whilst she stepped to stand in front of Belle, leaning in to whisper into Belle's ear. "And for your information, I was the one who ended it and broke him."

Cruella stepped between them, pushing Mrs Mills away from Belle, and hissed at her. "Cora, stop it! Leave her alone! If she doesn't want to do it, she doesn't want to do it."

The idle chatter had hushed to complete silence, so everyone could listen to the exchange as Mrs Mills moved her gaze to Cruella. "Really, Cruella? You're going to play her protector now? What? In the hopes of getting into her pants later?"

A fierceness blossomed in Cruella's eyes. "I don't need to play protector, darling, to get into someone's knickers. If I wanted to be in them, I'd be in them. I have more respect for people than you do."

"Whatever you say, Cruella." Mrs Mills returned her gaze to Belle. "Get out of my Club. You're not a member. You're not welcome."

"I was invited." Belle proclaimed, tightly clutching her glass and her purse, her temper brewing.

Mrs Mills flicked her gaze to Cruella and back to Belle as her lips grew into an evil smile. "Were you…? Well… I can always give you a reason to go home."

Opening her mouth to say something, Belle jumped back, bumping into the people behind her, as something wet splashed over her, covering her chin, neck and the front of her dress. She bent her head forward, scrutinising herself, and saw most of her drink was missing from her glass. Sticking out her tongue, she could taste the rum and coke on her skin, while droplets ran down into the valley of her breasts and the wetness seeped through the front of her dress. Inwardly seething, Belle raised her gaze to Mrs Mills, who was idly swinging the flogger back and forth, grinning at Belle's appearance.

"You want me to go home. That's not a problem. Here, you can finish my drink for me." As she had said it, Belle threw the last of her rum and coke at Mrs Mills, sloshing the remnants directly into her face.

The glass thudded on the carpet, whilst Belle excused herself through the tight crowd that had gathered in front of the doorway. She was so mad. The applause and hoots went unnoticed as she got out of the room and swung herself upon exiting the room to take the door on her left. She stormed through the people chatting in the hallway, leaving them to gawp after her as she hurried into the foyer. The fantasy of beating the older woman with her flogger was on constant repeat in her mind. Angry, frustrated, wounded – Belle felt like she could break any minute and Mrs Mills was going to get the beating of her life.

"Belle, are you okay?" Giles asked her, moving out from behind the podium he manned.

She held her hand up to him, not stopping for anyone. "Not now."

Her heels scraped and clicked as she ran out into the evening, dashing down the steps at a speed that was dangerous in her heels. She tripped a little off the bottom step, but didn't look back. If she looked back, she could be tempted to go back in there. Burst into the room and show that stuck up bitch, what a working-class fist felt like, when Belle punched her in the face with it. If it wasn't for the fact of stooping to her lowly level, or Mrs Mills would have her arrested, or the money she'd need for the bail, Belle could've quite easily done it. She could've easily done it, for the reason that Mrs Mills had been with Mr Gold. Which was probably the reason, Mrs Mills had picked her out of the crowd, because she had been with Mr Gold as well, and wanted her to leave. Why else would she have done it? And what did she mean, she broke him?

"Miss French?!"

Near the start of the drive, Belle thought she was dreaming, when she heard his voice and swung round to see him, standing several feet away from the steps to the mansion. Mr Gold looked otherworldly dressed in a green khaki jacket, a light blue shirt collar peeking out from underneath, wearing a pair of jeans. His gaze went from her to foyer, then back to her as he set off to meet with her. Crossing her arms, protecting herself, hiding her shame and walling off the cold, Belle pursed her lips together, watching him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Mr Gold sneered at her.

Blinking her eyes in disbelief, she let her arms unfold and fall down to her sides, hitting her purse into her hip. "What the hell was I thinking? What the fuck do you mean by that?"

Two very deep lines formed between his eyebrows as he threw his arm towards the Club. "You, coming here with Cruella." He stepped forward into her. "Did you have a good time, did you? Fuck you real good, did she?"

"What the hell is going on…?" Belle demanded, half turning to her left, half turning to right, hoping to find out she was dreaming or it was all a joke. "I was literally having a nice time with Cruella. Nothing sexual, just talking and having a drink. Then fucking psycho bitch, Mrs Mills, throws my drink all over me and you… You!" Motioning to him with her hand holding her purse, she told him. "Are behaving like a complete idiot again!"

"What?" His forehead was riddled with deep lines of confusion, while he took half a step back.

"You know, what? Fuck this!" She threw her hands up into the air as she began to rant at him. "Fuck you! Fuck them! Fuck psycho bitch! Fuck my father! Fuck everyone in this godforsaken town!" Without thinking about it, she took a step and shoved him. "I'm so fucking tired! I work all the fucking hours, for nothing! I might as well be fucking broke with everyone bleeding me for money! I've had it! I've had enough of this place!" Spinning away from him to start towards the driveway, she threw over her shoulder at him. "I'm leaving!"

"Wait a second, what?" His fingers just missed grabbing her arm.

Belle yanked her arm away from him. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Miss French, wait." His steps were close behind her. "Tell me what's happened."

"It doesn't matter what happened." She spat at him, quickening her step.

The world whirled by as Belle was yanked backwards, swinging round to be confronted by him and instantly trapped against him, when he grabbed her other upper arm, growling as he spoke. "It matters to me!"

The intensity in his eyes was mesmerising. The warm kind amber of his eyes pulled her further into him, whilst his eyes were shrouded in the dark shadow of his brow. His grip on her arms was painful, but nothing she hadn't experienced before. Belle sucked in her lower lip, biting the plush flesh as she held his gaze. Her anger was bubbling and threatening to blow the top off the thermometer… But she really wanted to kiss him. The smell of his aftershave, the fury in his eyes, his strong grip on her arms – they all broke through the haze of her temper, calling to her on a carnal level. If he hadn't been holding her so tightly, Belle would've jumped him in the middle of the driveway.

"Tell me what happened." Mr Gold urged.

She breathed in deeply, selfishly taking him in before she told him. "Mrs Mills kept asking me to join the other woman, she was disciplining, and I said no. Cruella told her to leave me alone. But it seems she didn't like me being invited to the exhibition and wanted me to leave, so she gave me a reason to leave."

Huffing out a hot breath, his eyes roamed down the front of her, inspecting her. "And she tipped your drink over you." His brown eyes snapped back up to her face. "She didn't hurt you though, did she?"

"It doesn't really matter. It's done. I'm going." Belle's temper surged again and she forcefully tried to shrug herself out of his grip, but it tightened, pulling her to press against his chest.

"Don't!" He warned. "You matter to me!" His eyes widened before he blinked it away. "Otherwise, I would be in there, beating her to within an inch of her life. So, stop telling me, it doesn't matter!"

"I matter?" She questioned, hearing only that.

Mr Gold released his hold on her arms and stepped back, his hands still held in the same position as when he had been holding her arms. "Sex might be sex, but it doesn't mean I don't care about you. I'm not that heartless, I can assure you."

"Is that why you're here?" She probed him. "Did you come back because of me?"

"I…" His hands dropped down to his sides, whilst his mouth hung open. "I was already on my way back, when Cruella texted me." He told her, while his right hand gestured wildly to the mansion behind him.

"So… You came here… Because you didn't like the thought of me being with Cruella?" Belle pointed at the ground as she questioned him and added. "Just for the record, I'm not into women."

Casting his gaze down onto the floor, his right thumb rubbed at his forefinger as he reminded her. "I told you, I don't like the idea of you having a boyfriend."

She angled her head to the side, trying to catch his eye, saying to him. "Maybe you should say, I don't like the idea of you being with anyone else."

"Look," His head shot up, looking everywhere but at Belle, telling her. "It's getting late and it's getting cold. I should take you home."

As she spoke, Belle was distracted partly by him unzipping his jacket and shrugging it off. "Mr Gold, I do believe, you're trying to change the subject."

"I believe, Miss French," He gave her a pointed look, whilst he wrapped his jacket around her and hung it over her shoulders, pulling the flaps closer together in front of her. "It's a very long walk back into town from here, in those heels." He held onto the flaps of his jacket, while his eyes studied her face. "I'll get the car."

"Okay." She whispered her response, subdued by the smell of him and the warmth of his jacket hugging her.

His hands slid down the front of her jacket and fell to his sides before he turned, setting off to where she had seen him, when she had come out of the Club. Belle dipped her head, tucking her nose into the collar of his jacket and took in a deep breath, filling her lungs with his scent. Closing her eyes, she savoured it, holding it in as long as possible, then breathed out to take another quick breath. How could someone's smell be so intoxicating?

Sat back in his chair with his left leg crossed over his right, Adam used his knee to prop up a plastic folder, while Henry Mills went through his proposal for redeveloping Storybrooke's dead industrial estate. Henry had approached Adam with the venture, about a year ago. All the empty warehouses would be renovated into spacious studio apartments, with lucrative views of the harbour. The ground floors of the warehouses would be for retail and restaurants. Offering a discount to new businesses, encouraging them to move into the area. Adam was staked to make thirty-five percent of the profits, for giving Henry permission to revamp the warehouses and his guarantee vote at the council meeting. Turning to the next page in the folder, pretending to be reading it for the first time, he pursed his lips in real thought.

As usual, his thoughts were preoccupied with Belle. His week away, pouncing on an opportunity to attain a portfolio of properties and more stock for the shop, was supposed to give him a chance to tame the thoughts he had of her. Overcome the developing fantasy. Instead, even when he should've been considering a property, inspecting an antique, reading through a contract, he had been thinking about her. Fantasised her lying in his bed, bound to the bed frame, begging for him, while he teased her. Pictured her in the backseat of his car, tempting him to join her. Totally contradicting, the whole point of getting away from Storybrooke.

At the beginning, they were refreshing. Waking up after so many years, to find this beautiful innocent woman in need of instruction, had inspired him to revive a part of himself he had dubbed dead, a long time ago. Adam had thought it had been his libido. Except the desires he had, were more. Dreams where they'd be lounging in the living room, reading or watching TV; times where she'd ride beside him, bare feet on the dash, knees propping up a book, while he drove; lazing in bed on Sunday mornings together – They were so far from being sexual, Adam knew where they came from. And no matter how he tried to squash it, bury it, smother it and outright deny its existence. It beat strongly for her. The little beautiful witch had caught his eye, bewitched him and had covertly captured his heart without him even knowing it.

The week away had been a complete failure. All it had done was made him face up to the truth, which even now, Adam was having a hard time accepting it.

He had vowed to himself, after Cora had left him, that he'd never give his heart to another. Sure, everyone has had their heart broken at some point in their life. Felt like they were nothing, unless they were with the person they loved. Contemplating the worst, when they thought about a future without them. Grieved with silent tears, for the years they had spent together. And he had felt and done all these things, and more, on the spiral back down to the dark depths he had lived all his life. Cora had been the first woman to show him any true affection. Or so he had thought, till the truth had crushed him – She had used him.

Ending it with Belle, was what he should've done. Ended it and shut himself off again. Protected himself, but it had already started. The bright light of her, the warmth of her, the charm of her, were drawing him out of the safety of his dark depths, once again. The allure of her was stronger than it had been with Cora. His heart soared whenever he saw Belle, smelled her, heard her, thought of her, caught wisps of her name being said in the street. Being without these things for a week had been maddening. His gut had ached, the whole time he had been away. Insatiable until he had seen Belle storming out of the Club, so fast she had nearly fallen down the last steps. In slow motion, he had watched her march off towards the drive, swinging her arms, head bowed forward, determined to leave as quick as she could in the deadly heels she had worn. Seeing her had made him take a breath, feeling at ease for the first time all week… Until he had remembered Cruella's text.

Adam turned to another page of the proposal, remorseful of how he had left things with his son. Late Friday night, sat up in bed, nursing the last of the mini bar's scotch, he had been thinking of Belle. Going over everything. Picking through their conversations. Trying to figure out how she had wormed her way through his defences, when he had been recalling the conversation they'd had in his kitchen. Belle had seen through his guise, noticing the sadness he hid from the world. No one had done that before, seen underneath the persona he projected. Not even Neal.

'You should call him.', Belle's wise words had told him, so he had done it and had arranged to meet his son for drinks in Scarborough.

Leaning forward, Neal had placed his beer bottle on the table, saying. "Sometimes, it's like these bigwigs upstairs have no clue what we actually do downstairs. I swear, they think we sit around all day doing nothing and watching YouTube."

"Hmm…" Adam had murmured, steepling his hands, elbows on the arms of his chair.

"You okay, dad?" His son had inquired, tilting his head to the side.

The temple made from his fingers had crumbled and his hands had fallen down into his lap as he had answered his son. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Lines had appeared on the left side of Neal's forehead. "You seem distracted."

Waving his hands, gesturing randomly, Adam had told him. "Tired and busy, you know how it gets."

"Dad," Neal had scooted forward in his chair and had braced his forearms on the table, telling his father. "Since I got here, you've been quiet."

Adam had shaken his head at his son, while he had reached for his glass of scotch on the table. "I'm just listening to you."

"And hardly said a thing to me. I could've walked off and you wouldn't have noticed." His son had insinuated, hooking a thumb over his shoulder as Adam had taken a sip of his scotch.

"Course, I would've noticed!" Adam had declared, banging his tumbler glass down onto the table. "Yes, I've got a few things on my mind, but I've been listening to you. Such as you were telling me about your new girlfriend, Gemma."

"Emma." Neal had corrected him.

"Okay… Gemma, Emma… They're easily confused." He had defended.

His son had rolled his eyes at him. "I'll give you that, but this has been more of a one-sided conversation. I mean, dad, you're the one who called out of the blue. You must've called for a reason. Did you want to talk about something? Is there something you need to tell me?"

"No, no, not really. I just wanted to see you." Adam had confessed to his son.

"Okay, well… Tell me what's going on with you." His son had suggested, folding his arms on the table.

Dazed, he had said. "With me?"

"Yes, what's going on with you at the minute? Are things as boring as ever in Storybrooke?" Neal had asked, unfolding his top arm to pick up his beer.

"Well… Storybrooke's Storybrooke. Nothing has changed there in twenty years." He had told his son, watching him drink from his beer bottle.

Neal had put his bottle of beer down as he had prompted his father. "And what's going on with you?"

"Only the usual." Adam had said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Tenants driving me crazy, people wanting something for nothing, problems every week. The usual."

Turning the beer bottle by its neck, his son had crooked an eyebrow at him. "Then if nothing's changed, what's on your mind then?"

Cornered with nowhere to go, Adam breathed out heavily, knowing he couldn't avoid the question. "A woman."

"A woman?" His son had baulked at the answer, eyes wide, eyebrows pushing the limits of his brow with the cheekiest of grins. "You've got a woman on your mind?"

"Why is that such an amazement?" He had questioned.

His son had relaxed into his chair, but his eyes were still wide with amazement as he had adjusted his baseball cap. "I just… You've never shown any interest in dating."

Adam had pursed his lips together, while he had claimed his glass of scotch to drink from it, and had told his son as he had returned his glass. "I might not have shown an interest around you, Neal, but I've been with… a few women over the years."

A look of utter astonishment was on Neal's face as he had sat forward, grabbing his bottle of beer, encroaching onto the table. "You have?"

"I do have a life away from you." He had informed his son, feeling the corner press up against his back.

"Yeah, course you do, dad. I'm sorry, I'm just… Surprised, that's all." Neal was shaking his head as he had spoken. "Erm…" His son had paused, moving his gaze to meet his father's. "What's she like?"

Partly opening his mouth to speak, his automatic reaction was to lie, conceal the truth from his son, but wasn't that the reason they were slightly estranged? Because Adam kept things to himself. Preparing himself for the other shoe to fall and for his son to cut him completely out of his life, like so many had done before. 'Family precious, Mr Gold', Belle had said, talking from experience. Hell, even Adam knew that, yet he had allowed a void to grow between him and his son. Something he had never wanted and, thankfully, still had time to correct.

The corners of his mouth had turned up into a short smile before he had answered his son's question. "She's… She's an absolute stunner. Luscious brown hair, beautiful blue eyes, an accent that you wouldn't soon forget. Clever and wise, and easy to talk to… And totally out of my league."

"Wow… Have you known her long?" His son had queried.

"A… I've known her… A while, but it's only been the last two months, we've gotten to know each other… a little better." Adam had shared with him, sidestepping some of the truth.

Neal's eyebrows had twitched at the new information and had said, while picking up his bottle of beer. "Well, you must care a lot about her then."

"Why would you say that?" He had quizzed his son's comment.

Holding his beer up near his mouth, Neal had said before swigging his beer. "Because you're mentioning her to me." He had swallowed and put the bottle down. "If you didn't care about her, then she wouldn't be on your mind. And plus, you wouldn't be telling me about her, like all the other women… You've been with."

His son, the twenty-five-year-old, was wiser than his forty-nine-year-old father, when it came to love. Not love, he wasn't in love. He cared about her. That's all it was, he had told himself, feeling his phone vibrate and beep in the pocket of his jeans.

Angling himself to the side in his seat, Adam had dug his phone out of his pocket, while his son had pushed on with their conversation, asking. "So… Are you guys just dating, or is it further along than that?"

"Err… Just… dating." He had lied, while reading the highlight of the text message Cruella had sent him, 'I hope you're not going to mind, darling, but I took the…'.

As Adam had unlocked his phone and had tapped to open his messages, Neal had remarked. "It's strange to think of my father dating… Knowing you, you splash out on big bunches of roses, fancy wine and boxes of chocolate."

Squinting his gaze to read the message, he had dryly responded to Neal's remark. "Handcuffs and a riding crop."

The message Cruella had sent him, had been, 'I hope you're not going to mind, darling, but I took the liberty of inviting your little pet to the Club. *Winking emoji* Don't worry, I'll make sure she has fun tonight. Looking forward to tasting her *Kiss emoji*'. What the fuck? What the hell was Cruella playing at? Adam had known she had sent it to him for a reason and he had hated that he was going to do exactly what she wanted him to do, but he couldn't bear the thought of her touching Belle. When Cruella wanted something, she got it and he'd be damned if she got her claws into his Belle.

"What?!" Neal had exclaimed to his father's jest.

"Nothing." Lifting his gaze from his phone to his son, Adam had locked his phone as he had said to his son. "Erm… I really don't want to do this, but I need to go."

His son had sat up in his chair. "Oh… Something wrong? Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, it's alright. I can handle it myself." He had told Neal, pushing back his chair to stand up, putting his phone into the pocket of his jeans.

"If you need me to come with you, it's not a problem, dad." Neal had assured, titling his head back to see his father.

Reaching into the right pocket of his jeans, Adam had taken out his money clip, reassuring his son as he had pulled some bills from the clip. "Honestly, I can handle it, but I'd like to do this again soon. Maybe dinner or something. Bring your new girlfriend next time. I'd like to meet her."

And then he had left, after giving his son the money and tight hug, whispering that he loved him before ending their embrace. Racing back to Storybrooke had probably earned him a ticket or two, or three, along the journey, but he hadn't cared and still didn't. Whatever forces had been at play, Adam had gotten there at the perfect moment, almost bumping into her as she had come out of the Club.

Absently rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, Adam was mortified, he had revealed more of his secret to her. Hearing her say, 'it didn't matter', had been like poking the proverbial bear with a stick. He had snapped. Yanking her into his chest, he had refused to let her go, when she had tried to shrug off his grip. Afraid, she had meant she was leaving Storybrooke. In the heat of the moment - blood boiling, heart pounding, sweaty palms - it had spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. More and more, he was revealing more of his underbelly to her, giving her the opportunity to use his weakness against him.

"What do you think, Gold?"

Inwardly startled, Adam kept his composure as he flicked the booklet closed and looked at the Mayor, saying. "It's an interesting proposal."

He slid it onto the table as Henry responded with his rehearsed reply. "It'd be good for you, Gold. Think of all those empty warehouses you've got in that district, earning you no income. With my proposal, you'll be earning five times the amount you would, if you rented out those buildings."

"Suppose…" He muttered, crossing his arms in front of him.

Henry's eyebrows raised at Adam as Doctor Hopper said, poking his glasses up his nose, while he perused the proposal document. "This could considerably help a lot of residents."

Adam held Henry's questioning glare across the table. They had scripted the conversation. Going through each response, giving the other council members the impression, they were arguing, while really, they'd pointing out the advantages to such a project. As Doctor Hopper had stated, the project would produce several job opportunities for the residents of Storybrooke. It would be a shopping and an entertainment attraction to the residents and surrounding towns, bringing more revenue to the town. The residential units could potentially bring new residents to the town, or even allow some to move up the property ladder. There would be plenty of profit and advantages to everyone, if the planning permission got passed by the council.

If… It passed.

"The new movie theatre would attract the kids to stay in Storybrooke instead of trooping to Yarmouth." The Sheriff commented. "Should reduce the number of drink-driving violations."

"I think the financial boost to the town is more what we should be really considering." The Mayor said, with a slight chuckle at the start.

Marko closed the folder and pushed it away from him, saying as he relaxed back into his chair. "It's about time something was done with it. The whole district is an eye sore."

"Ah, but there's a reason, it's an eyesore." Adam interjected, clasping his hands on top of his crossed legs.

The Mayor looked at him, frowning. "What reason?"

"Bats." He stated, bluntly.

"Bats?" The Mayor and Henry questioned.

"Yeah, bats." Adam gave them both a sympathetic smile, shrugging his shoulders at them.

Henry glowered and grew darker. "You…" He paused, catching himself. "Where are these bats?"

"I believe, Dove said, warehouse D, E, G and possibly J… I think. It was a while ago." Adam squinted his gaze in thought, directing it up to the ceiling, feigning he was recalling the details.

"You think?" The Mayor enquired in a disbelieving tone. "Could they have moved on? Have you checked recently?"

Holding up his hand, beseeching the Mayor's forgiveness, he told him. "It's been a while since I've checked on them. Sorry, I haven't got any answers for you."

The Mayor slapped his copy of the proposal onto the large oak table. "Henry, did you not think to check on the state of these buildings with Gold, before proposing this to the council?"

"I did." Henry growled.

As the Mayor stood up, he shoved the proposal diagonally across the table to Henry, telling him. "Then, I suggest you go over your proposal and Gold finds out, if he does indeed have inhabitants in these warehouses, before the next meeting." Touching the polished edge of the table with his fingers, the Mayor asked them. "Is there anything else we need to discuss?"

"No, I don't think so." Adam said, aware of the glare burning into the side of his head, as everyone else around the table said 'no' as well.

"Good, then I adjourn this meeting until the next meeting." The Mayor told them, then stepped out from the table, shaking his head.

Slipping his left leg off his other knee, Adam closed the flaps of his suit jacket and buttoned the top button, using his feet to push his chair back at the same time. The Sheriff jumped out of his chair and snatched his hat off the table, escaping the council chamber before someone could find an excuse to keep him. Doctor Hopper sat on the other side of the table, turning back a page in the proposal as Henry pushed himself off the table and stalked around the table to Adam.

"What the hell was that?" Henry angrily whispered down at him.

Adam stood up, smoothly, smiling at Henry. "Nothing."

Edging closer, giving Doctor Hopper a wary glimpse over his shoulder, Henry said in a low voice, pointing vaguely at the table behind him. "That wasn't what we discussed, Gold."

"Plans change." He told Henry, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Plans change?" Henry stomped a step closer, putting his face in Adam's, snarling at him in a hushed voice. "We have a deal, Adam!"

"And I haven't broken our deal. Merely…" He glanced off to the side, for a second. "Postponed it." He told Henry with his grin growing wider.

Henry's forehead was riddled in deep, long worried lines. "For how long?"

It was Adam's turn to lower his voice, his tone deadly. "Until you get a lease on that bitch, you call your wife."

"Ha! You can't be serious!" Henry barked out a laugh, enticing Doctor Hopper to look up from the proposal in his hands, eyeing their interaction over the rim of his glasses.

"Oh, I'm serious." Adam told him, maintaining eye contact.

Disbelief was written across Henry's face. "Is this about what happened to your little pet on Saturday night?"

The left side of his upper lip lifted, twisting into a minor snarl. "She's not my pet!"

"Fucking hell! I thought it was something serious!" Henry sat back onto the table, chuckling to himself.

Adam narrowed his gaze at Henry. "I am serious."

Raising his eyebrows at Adam, Henry questioned with a smirk. "Adam, it's just girls being girls! So, what if they threw a bit of drink over one another? That doesn't have anything to do with our deal." He strongly shook his head. "A bit of skirt, after all these years, and you're going to let it interfere with our business deal?"

"You know where I'll be, when you're ready to go ahead with our deal." He stated to Henry, moving the chair further back, allowing him to step easily out from the table and by Henry.

"Wait, wait, wait." Henry whispered hastily, grabbing Adam's left elbow to stop him from leaving. "You know, no one can control Cora!"

Snatching his arm out of Henry's hold, he sneered at him. "That's your problem."

"Adam," Henry stood up, leaning into him. "Come on. This is business. Not personal."

"And if you want to continue doing business with me, you know what you've got to do. Other than that, we've got nothing left to discuss." Adam told him, tugging harshly on the cuff of his left sleeve, and walked away, putting his back to Henry.

Attacking Cora directly wouldn't have any effect. He knew her well enough that she wouldn't listen. The only way to hit back at Cora was to attack the ones she held dear to her. Sabotaging the deal with her husband was child's play. It didn't matter to him, if the deal went through or not. To Henry, though, it would mean he'd lose a great deal. He'd already put money into his proposal, done the research, paid for surveys and plans to be drawn up. Taken investors' money, which he'd have to pay back, with interest out of his own pocket, even if the project didn't go through. The Mills had more personally riding on this little proposal. If Henry didn't take him seriously, then that was his own problem.

Adam pushed open the heavy exterior door of the town hall and sidled out, letting the door close itself, whilst he shook off the eerie feeling of Cora. Hooking his fingers into the handkerchief pocket, he withdrew his sunglasses, hidden behind the dark red handkerchief, and put them on as he started down the long wide bricked path to the sidewalk. He poked at the bridge of his sunglasses, pushing them further up his nose as he wondered what Belle was doing. Pushing back his sleeve to check his watch, it was a little after five. She'd still be at Granny's or her father's, slaving away as usual.

He was a little reluctant to take her back to the Club so soon. Belle had been unusually quiet on the journey home. After getting in the car, she had clutched his jacket close and had hidden her face inside the collar. It had been hard to gauge, whether she was still angry or if her anger had succumbed to tears. With her face hidden in his jacket, Adam had grudgingly driven her home, hoping the bitch hadn't offended her too much. But as Belle had gotten out of his car and had wished him goodnight, he had known Cora had unsettled her, when she had walked off, taking the alleyway behind her house, forgetting to return his jacket. He could've called after her and gotten his jacket back, but… He liked the thought of her having it.

Though, it would've meant nothing to her.

"Old man and his dreams." Adam grumbled to himself as he stooped a little to open his car door and stepped inside, unbuttoning his suit jacket, and closed the door behind him.

Peering back down the long-bricked path to the town hall, he saw Henry and Doctor Hopper exiting the building, with Hopper grinning foolishly, chewing Henry's ear off. Henry glared down the path at Adam, ignoring Hopper as he glanced up at the cloudless sky, chatting happily about something. Probably about Pongo. The man was obsessed with his dog. Ironic as the man was a therapist.

With a slight smirk, he dug under the flap of his suit jacket, into the right pocket of his trousers and pulled out his car keys. His eyes drifted to the passenger seat, seeing her in his mind beside him, bare feet on the dash, book propped up against her legs, toes dancing in time to the music he would play whilst driving. Closing his eyes, Adam shook the image of her away and opened his eyes, watching himself slide the key into the ignition. The Cadillac roared to life and settled down, burbling as it ticked over. He couldn't help the sly glance at the passenger seat, wishing she had actually been there.

'…You must care a lot about her then', Neal's voice reiterated.

Selecting drive with the gear selector, Adam ignored the comment as he signalled, checked the mirror and over his shoulder, and pulled out into the street. If he spent any more time, considering if he cared for her, or why he cared for her, or what it could mean, it was going to drive him mad. Yes, he cared about Miss Belle French, really cared about her. However, that fact alone didn't change reality.

She had her life, he had his and, however brief, their lives had crossed. Once they were done, it would end, like all his other relationships had. With the exception that this time, Adam was prepared for it. He was older and wiser, and had complete control of the situation.

So, he told himself as Adam slowed to take a turn into his own driveway, rolling to a stop in front of the double doors of his garage. After pushing the selector up into park, he turned off his car and pulled the latch for his door, easily stepping out of his car. He glanced either way up the quiet street as he pushed his door close and crossed the front lawn to the path leading to the steps of the porch. While he climbed the stairs, he flicked through his keys and had his front door key ready, for when he got to it and swiftly let himself into the house. Stepping over the post, Adam swivelled on the polished wooden floor and closed the door before stooping down to gather the scattered letters and magazines into one hand. He stood up and tossed his keys to the silver tray on the end table, making a loud clunk noise as he ambled into the kitchen, flicking through the mail. Deducing most of it was bumf, he discarded the stack to the end of the long kitchen counter, separating the kitchen from the sitting area, and veered off into his study.

Adam sat into his leather chair and turned to his desk, scooting himself forward in his chair, while he tapped the spacebar on his keyboard, waking up the screen for his computer. Moving the mouse with his right hand, he picked up his glasses and put them on, peering through them at his emails when the new window opened. Moaning tenants, invoices, reports, item and property inquiries – Nothing that needed his attention tonight.

He sat back into his chair, propped his elbows onto the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers together, touching the tips of his forefingers to his lips. Her little rant came to mind, like it had been, whenever he had a moment to just be. What she had said, hadn't troubled him. It was the conviction behind the words that had. It should've been clear to anyone, who cared about her, that she worked too hard and was definitely going nowhere in the rut her father had dragged her into. Hearing her yell 'I'm leaving' at the top of her lungs, had sent an icy cold finger down his spine. The thought of her leaving town scared him, more than he cared to admit, and selfishly he'd do anything he could to keep her from leaving, but if she really wanted to leave, she'd find a way. Regardless of what Adam did to stop her.

What Belle needed was a knight in shining armour, who could save her. Not a deviant, who was armed with a riding crop. Closing his eyes, he wished he could be that man for her, but he was what he was. And she deserved better. Yet… That didn't stop him from wanting her.

Parting his hands, Adam peeled back the left side of his suit jacket and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, taking out his phone. The flap of his jacket fell back into position as he clicked the side button on his phone, swiped his thumb, tapped in his code and unlocked his phone to access his messages. Her messages were pinned to the top of the list, putting her above the rest and easier to find. He tapped the circle encasing the initials 'BF'. Their messages appeared on the screen, the last one being his, letting her know he'd be out of town.

"Coward." He mumbled to himself, in response to his last message, whilst he tapped the text window and wrote, 'To make up for last week and your terrible evening on Saturday, would you care to meet tonight?'.

The message bubble instantly turned blue, showing it had been sent. He nervously licked his lips as he set his phone down onto his desk, cautiously watching it. The uneasiness slithering around his gut wouldn't have been so heavy, if he had messaged her sooner. Leaving it for three days, giving her a chance to breathe after Saturday evening, Adam had believed he was doing it for her benefit. Giving her time to calm down after being so close to the end of her tether. Truthfully, and selfishly, it was in his advantage. The chance to cool off, stopped her from making hasty decisions, such ending things between them.

His phone hadn't even finished the second beep and Adam had it in his left hand, reading her reply. 'I would, but I've already arranged to go out with the girls.'

Rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, he composed his reply in his head before he sent it to her. 'Have a nice evening with girls. Contact you soon about the weekend.'

Adam cradled his phone in his hand, staring at her reply. It was the first time Belle had declined to meet with him. And it stung! It shouldn't have, but it did. Closing his eyes, the pain stroking lovingly at his heart was an old friend – rejection. He wanted to pretend that she'd put him before her friends. Drop everything and run to him, confess she'd been anticipating his message, had missed him last week, had been curious where he had been, never wanted him to leave her again.

Shaking his head, he put his phone down as he stood up, pushing back his chair, knowing more fanciful thinking wasn't going to alleviate his mood. Busying himself was the only cure, he thought as he removed his suit jacket to lay over one of the chairs in front of his desk.

So, he made himself dinner, poured himself a very large glass of red wine and settled down in front of his computer, listening to the New York Philharmonic playlist in the background. Stabbing the last of the sweet potato fries onto his fork, Adam squinted his eyes at the figures he was reading on the screen and shifted his gaze to the book, laid open in his lap, propped on the edge of the desk, and fed himself the short stack of fries on his fork. He laid his fork on his plate and pushed it to one side, so he could move the book onto the table, allowing him to lean further forward. Rubbing a finger along his top lip, he could feel the roughness of his stubble as he recalculated the figures in the margin.

Clicking his fingers, he pointed at the obvious mistake in the book and casted his gaze at the screen, sweeping down the long margin until he found where the entry had been inputted incorrectly. He tapped the arrow keys, moving the cell selector over and was typing in the correct amount, when he heard the doorbell. As he tapped 'enter' on the keyboard, his eyes went to the corner of the screen and saw it was close to ten o'clock. His brow scrunched at the questionable time of the intrusion as he removed his glasses and pushed back his chair to stand up, leaving his glasses on his desk before he strolled to the open doorway, pulling down on the hem of his waistcoat.

The kitchen was dimly lit by the under-cabinet lights. Apart from the study, the rest of the house was in total darkness. Sauntering through the kitchen to the foyer, as he entered the foyer, he paused to flick on the light. Through the clear panes of the front door, Adam could see Belle standing on his porch, giving him an uneasy smile. Hastening his step, he crossed the foyer in two strides and opened the front door for her, and closed it as soon as she had entered.

"Miss French," He said with his hand clutching the door handle, afraid he'd yank her into an embrace. "I didn't think I'd be seeing you this evening."

Belle shifted her feet, turning to face him, still giving him an uneasy smile. "I… Erm… Told them, I was going home early." She waved her hand holding her purse at the door. "Most of them are going to be at the club till midnight."

Slowly, Adam let go of the door and turned to face her, feeling more in control. "You should've called. I would've come and got you."

"No, I wouldn't want to impose." She shook her head. "The walk was quite refreshing, actually."

"And in another pair of deadly heels." He motioned to dark blue heels she was wearing, which were at least five inches, making her about the same height as him.

While she spoke, his eyes travelled up her shapely legs to the blue form fitting cocktail dress she was wearing, the curve of her shoulders exposed with her hair clipped up behind her head. "It's not so bad, once you've mastered them."

His head tilted to the side, lingering on the curve of her ass, as he asked. "Were you ladies out on the hunt tonight?"

Belle rolled her eyes at his question. "They were. I was guilted into going out."

"Still, didn't see anyone there, you would've like to fuck?" He asked bluntly, methodically taking steps to circle her.

She turned her head to follow him, as far as she could, telling him. "I didn't go there with the intention of hooking up with anyone."

Smoothly, Adam stepped in behind her and captured her hips, holding her in place, whilst he said just behind her ear. "Then why did you come here, to my house, Miss French?"

"Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing here." She crooked her head to see him, straining her neck. "I left with the intention of going home, but…" The muscles in her throat moved. "I'd been thinking about you all evening and, before I knew it, I was standing outside your house."

He held her gaze, recognising the truth in the blue pools of her eyes. His heart was a loud bass drum, resonating in his chest. Taking his right hand from her hip, Adam couldn't and didn't want to stop himself reaching up to touch her face. He gently stroked her left cheek with the backs of his fingers. The caress down her cheek gave way to his thumb as he cupped her cheek. His body inclined into her, the heat of her body alluring him. Her lips parted as her eyes fell to his lips and bounced back up to meet his gaze. Slowly breathing out, Adam held onto his discipline and controlled his urge to kiss her, to claim her, to possess her.

Two weeks ago, in this very house, he had been frightened at the prospect of the feelings she provoked in him. Jealousy, possessiveness… Caring more about her than he should've. The line he had put between them, separating familiarity and intimacy, was so thin Adam could barely make it out as he stared into her ocean of her eyes, drowning himself in their depths. The line he had warned her to keep, had foolishly threatened to end things if she couldn't keep to her side of it, was so far from his mind, he could've thrown her against the wall and taken her. Uncaring for some invisible barrier he had put between them.

"Please kiss me." Belle whispered her plea to him.

His left hand struggled to grasp the tight material of her dress, needing an anchor to keep him grounded as he asked her. "Is that what you really want?"

Her chest heaved in a breath. "More than anything."

Moving his hand from her cheek, Adam grasped her face, squeezing her cheeks, cradling her chin in the palm of his hand, as he said. "Then you'll have to earn it."

"Anything." She said with bated breath, her gaze never shying from him.

He took his hand from her face and grabbed her right elbow with his left hand, leading her through to the small sitting area in the kitchen. Blowing out a quiet breath, Adam was beginning to think he was dreaming, that he had fallen asleep at his desk in his study, as he guided Belle around the two-seater sofa and let go of arm to move the coffee table closer to the fireplace, giving them more floor space. She spun round to watch him, clutching her purse between her hands. Even though he wanted to reassure her, he refrained from smiling, and took her purse from her to toss it to the seat of the armchair. There was a gasp of an 'oh' as he did, but Belle recovered quickly from her surprise and stood in front of him, waiting for him to give her an instruction.

Backing up from her, Adam sat down onto the coffee table, roaming his gaze up and down her body as he told her, pointing to the stop in front of him on the rug. "Stand here and turn around."

Immediately, Belle did as he had commanded, turning her back readily to him, when she stood in front of him. Reaching up to hold the top of her dress, he clasped the thin delicate zipper and unhurriedly unzipped her, freeing her from the constraints of the dress. Licking his lips as her soft pale skin was slowly exposed to him. She spied on him, craning her neck to see him. As the dress became looser, the more the front of it hung forward, baring her breasts and stomach. When the zip got to the end of its travel, Adam splayed his hand on her back and skimmed it up the surface of her smooth back, going as far as he could before lightly dragging his nails down the centre of her spine, loving the light hiss that escaped from her lips. Ending the scratch, where her dress still covered her, he grabbed the hem of it and yanked it forcefully down, exposing the rump of her backside to him. The dress fell the rest of the way, crumpling into a heap at her feet. Gazing at her butt cheeks, he placed his hands on either cheek, massaging and tightly squeezing his fingertips into them, admiring the back of the blue lace thong she had chosen to wear.

"For someone, who had no intention of hooking up tonight, you chose to wear some very sexy underwear." He commented, pulling the waist of the thong until it sprung off his finger and snapped back into place.

Her thighs rubbed together, tensing the cheeks of her ass, as she reminded him. "I told you, I was thinking about you all evening."

"Mmm… All evening?" He murmured, stroking his fingers down the outside of her thighs. "Does that mean, they're going to be thoroughly wet for me?"

"If they weren't, they are now..." Belle tipped her head back as she said it and finished with a groan, while his nails clawed at the sensitive skin at the back of her knees.

"Turn around." He ordered as he took his hands away.

She twirled on the spot with her hands down at her sides, not an ounce of shame, as she expectantly looked down at him. Pausing to take in her natural beauty, Adam started at her face and blatantly worked his way down, taking in every inch of her body. This was where his self-control came into play. The desire to take her, to have her withering beneath him, to fuck her so hard into the rug beneath their feet, was strong. No matter how he felt, imagery or not, he wanted her to leave here fully sated.

Holding out his left hand to her, Adam instructed her. "Lay across my lap." He pointed to the left side of his legs with his right hand. "Your head this side."

"Okay." Belle bit her lower lip as she placed her left hand in his, recognising what they were going to be doing, and used his hand and a hand on his left knee to support herself as she laid her upper body across his lap.

After she let go of his hand, Adam easily shifted her on his lap, moving her so his right leg was nestled in the crook formed from her hips being bent. He let his hands roam across her back, enjoying the feel of her soft skin beneath his firm hands. Bending her head forward, Belle moaned at the caress, grasping a hand under his thigh behind his knee, while her other hand sat on top of his knee.

"You're such a naughty girl, Miss French." He crooned, smoothing his right hand down her back towards her ass. "Always teasing me."

"I'm sorry." Belle apologised.

His hand glided over her right butt cheek as he asked her. "Are you?"

"Yes." She responded immediately, twisting her neck to look at him.

"For wearing sexy underwear, while you're thinking of me?" He pushed.

"Yes…" She sounded unsure as the corners of her lips turned ever-so-slightly up with a cheeky smile.

His hand circled her butt cheeks in one motion, gliding over the material of her thong. "For wearing heels, which beg me to fuck you up against a wall, so I can feel them dig into the back of my thighs?"

"No…" She tested the sound of it.

He nudged his chin in the direction of where her dress had pooled on the floor. "Wearing something so tight, that I know men have been staring at you all night, wanting to fuck what's mine?"

The look in her eyes was much fiercer as she said more confidently. "No."

"I knew you weren't sorry." Adam shook his head at her as his hand stopped on the centre of her butt. "Such a naughty girl." He smacked her low on her right butt cheek and gently caressed the spot, while the flesh wobbled gently with the force.

Belle dropped her head forward and sucked in a sharp breath, briefly piercing her nails through his trousers and into his skin. Her hand on his knee flexed, clutching it in the palm of her hand. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, keeping himself calm, he lightly trailed his fingers up the natural crease of her ass. Her cheeks clenched together at the sensation and Adam smiled as he teasingly caressed around the top of her left cheek and down the side of it with the back of his fingers, bringing his hand back to the lower part of her butt cheek.

"Remember what happened last time, you wore sexy lingerie for me?" He asked her, while hooking his forefinger around the string of her thong disappearing into her cheeks.

She lifted her head. "Yes."

Hooking the string of the thong with his left forefinger, bringing it out of the crevice of her ass, he pulled it upwards, forcing it to nestle firmly into the folds of her pussy. "Is that what you want me to do, rip them from you and fuck you?"

"Yes." Belle uttered the word at him, bending her neck to see him.

"You're so naughty." He spanked her left cheek, causing her head to drop as she hissed and moaned, digging her nails into him as he asked. "Is that what you were thinking about? When you were thinking about me?"

"Not just that." She confessed, easing the bite of her nails. "Scratching and fingering me." Her head raised up before she angled her neck to see him. "Fucking me, while I was tied to the bedpost. Licking me out on the kitchen counter in my kitchen…" Her eyes shied away from him for the first time. "Just thinking about you."

Soothing the light pink mark he had given her, by rubbing light circles on the spot, he requested to know. "Have you been touching yourself, while thinking of me?"

Her blue eyes met his. "Yes."

"Fucking tease." Adam titled her as he slapped at her right cheek, pinking the area above where he had already smacked.

Belle moaned before she admitted, not the first time. "I couldn't help myself."

"When?" He questioned, tugging on the feeble string of her thong.

She hissed at the pain. "This morning, after I woke up, I touched myself."

The swat at her left cheek made her rock forward on his knees as he pushed to know more. "How?" He tightened his hold on the string, pulling it tighter and into her. "How did you touch yourself?"

"With my fingers." She panted, bending her head back, while her nails remained embedded into his leg. "Rubbing at my clit and fingering myself."

Leaning over to speak directly into her ear, Adam asked her. "Was it as good as when I do it?"

Her hair shook back and forth in the clip, pinning it to the back of her head. "No."

"Did you come as hard as you do with me?" He enquired, clenching his fingers into the rump of her right cheek.

Vigorously, Belle shook her head as it fell forward. "No. I came, but I wasn't satisfied like I am, when you do it."

"Good." He uttered the single word before he sat back, and struck her right cheek, following it with a strike to her left, while harshly pulling on the string of her thong, making her arch her back and cry out before it subsided into a low groan.

Ghosting his hand down the back of her right thigh, he admired the bright pink marks he had painted on her skin. Underneath her, his hard insistent erection throbbed and was uncomfortable, trapped inside his restrictiveness of his boxers. His breathing quickened as he imagined her down on all four, ass tanned to deep rouge, while he took her from behind, glancing marks down the side of her thighs, increasing the size of his canvas. If he had the toys available to him, like he did at the Club, he'd decorate the rest of her skin in delightful red marks. Secretly relishing the beautiful artwork, he would've created, which no one else would ever appreciate.

He smoothed his hand up her leg and across her butt, and followed the path he had mapped in his head, bringing his fingers up the inside of her thigh. The higher he travelled up, the more her ass lifted, willingly exposing herself to his touch. Sneaking the tip of his tongue out to lick along the length of his lip, Adam veered away from where she wanted him to touch her and clapped a sound spank to right butt cheek, swaying her forward.

"You dirty girl." He dubbed, letting go of her thong as he slid his hand down into the apex of her thighs, rubbing the length of wet sex. "Is this what you want?"

She moaned into his thigh, clenching her nails into his leg. "Yes."

"Is this why you came here?" Adam queried, snaking his middle finger through the moist slick folds of her sex.

"No." Belle's answer was met with a solid smack to her left cheek.

The sound of the smack seemed to resonate in his chest as he slithered his fingers back into the crevice of her sex, telling her. "Be honest, Miss French."

Her head raised and she took in some deliberate breaths before crooking her neck to meet his gaze. "I came here, because I was thinking of you and because I can't stop thinking about what we've done."

Using his left hand, Adam glanced her right cheek with a sharp slap of his left hand as he slid his middle finger into her channel. "Good girl."

Belle pulled and clenched his trouser leg, letting out a short cry, while her hips rose, attempting to get his finger deeper inside of her. Closing his eyes, he swallowed his own moan, adoring how wet and hot her channel was for him. There was hardly any resistance as his finger slid into her. He could've thrown her down on the floor and thrusted into her easily. She wanted him. Her body showed she was telling the truth. Thinking about him, fantasising about him, Belle must have been dripping for him, when she had arrived.

"So, fucking hot and wet for me." He remarked, muttering more to himself, as he opened his eyes, watching her as he pushed two of his fingers into her opening.

Her body rocked back, effortlessly adjusting to the width of them as she moaned. "Yes…"

Slapping her left cheek with his other hand, he kept his fingers inside of her as he said to her. "I bet you wish this was my cock inside of you." He shoved his fingers deeper, making her groan. "Is that what you've been thinking about all day?"

"Yes, you." Belle confirmed.

"While you've been working at Granny's, serving all those unsuspecting people?" He questioned, teasing her with a small thrust of his fingers.

Her head turned enough, so she could peer at him from the corner of her eye. "Yes."

"All those people…" He slowly pulled his fingers out of her. "Never knowing, sweet Belle French wanted the town's baddy to fuck her." He asserted, thrusting his fingers all the way into her, pushing his knuckles into her entrance.

"Everyday." She disclosed to him, earning her a slap up the side of her right butt cheek.

"You naughty girl!" Adam hissed at her, clawing his fingers into the same cheek he'd smacked, while his other fingers remained still, buried to the hilt inside of her.

"Please…" She mumbled, arching her chest at the pain as her nails harshly jabbed at him.

He let go of her ass and grabbed her face, ruthlessly turning her head to face him. "Please what?"

Even in the dim light from the kitchen, Adam could see the blue of her eyes staring at him as Belle told him. "Please fuck me! Do whatever you want, but please fuck me!"

"Oh, I will, Miss French." He eased his hold on her face and dragged the tip of his thumb across her lower lip, his eyes fixed on the deep red indents in the plump flesh.

Before his thumb got to the end of her lip, her tongue came out of her mouth and lavishly swiped the softness of her tongue at his thumb. His thumb delved into her mouth, following her tongue inside, needing no more encouragement to fill another one of her holes. He breathed out through his nose as her lips locked around his thumb, sucking it into her mouth as her tongue danced around the tip. The memory of his cock hitting the back of her throat came to mind, whilst she opened her mouth to take more of his thumb in. He could feel the beginning of the chasm at the back of her throat. Flexing his thumb, pressing it down onto her tongue, Belle pushed back as he nestled her chin in his fingers. Her teeth bit into his thumb as she sucked and moulded her tongue to it. His eyes rolled briefly, causing him to close his eyes for a second, getting carried away with the memory, the fantasy, of her sucking his cock.

Adam shook the image away and took back control from her, by quickly withdrawing his fingers and thrusting them in her again, adding a third finger. Her moan reverberated down his thumb, along his arm and spiralled down to his aching member. Flash his eyes wider at the sensation, he focused on his fingers, pulling out to shove them forcefully into her. The motion swayed her forward on his knees. As he retracted his fingers from her, Belle thrusted herself back, using his knees, and impaled herself back onto his fingers, groaning around his thumb again. Relenting his thumb's hold inside of her mouth, he shifted his attention to her pussy, plunging his fingers in and out of her, setting a hard forceful pace. She grunted and moaned around his thumb. The wetness of her tongue slithered around him, while her teeth grated the length of his thumb. Her arousal clung to him, pooled in the channel of his fingers as he fingered her. The sound of her pussy squelching was music to his ears, each time he thrusted his fingers into her, shoving them deep and hard, thinking of his cock hitting the back of her throat.

"Mmm…" Belle opened her mouth to moan.

Her channel tightened around his fingers. A hint of heat touched the tip of his fingers, coating them in a new wave of her sweet nectar. Taking his thumb out of her mouth, Adam pressed his forearm down onto her lower back, clamping her to his lap, and hooked back her right butt cheek, further exposing her sex to him. With the added room, he increased the pace, mercilessly fucking her with his finger.

She groaned above the noise of his fingers fucking her drenched cunt. "Fuck…" Then bowed her head forward, crying out as she clung to his leg, painfully stabbing her nails into him. "SHIT!"

The floodgate opened and a tidal wave of her arousal swamped his fingers, gushing down the channel of his fingers and into the palm of his hand. Maintaining his crushing pace, Adam clutched the tips of his fingers into the flesh of her butt, holding off the hankering he had to taste her. He couldn't help, but be taken back to her kitchen. The madness of wanting her after their heated exchange had been too much. Knowing she was his, and solely his, was an aphrodisiac, all on its own. Just like the smell of her arousal.

Adam suddenly pulled his fingers from her and let go of her butt, allowing him to cleanly smack both of her ass cheeks. The murmur of her cry died quickly, smothered out of existence by the moan that came from deep inside of her throat. Rubbing his hand over the area, smearing her own wetness into her skin, he shuddered in a breath, dying to trace the path of his hand with his tongue and delve it into her depths, licking out the traces of her come. The temptation was there and he knew Belle would oblige him. However, losing his direction was becoming too frequent and Adam didn't like it.

"Up." He commanded.

Pushing off his knee, she climbed off his lap and stood up, bracing another hand on his other knee until she had her balance. Her hands smoothed down her sides to her hips and round to her backside, whilst she bit her lower lip at him. Stretching his arm out to her, Adam hooked his forefinger into the waist of her thong and pulled it down, uncovering the mound of her sex to him. The elastic band clung to her, resisting him, until the strain he put on them sprung them past her hips, making her thong go limp and fall to circle her ankles. Belle didn't need any instruction. She stepped a foot out of them and then kicked her thong from her other foot, leaving it splayed out in between his feet. Bending himself forward, he hooked a loop of the thong and fished it up, gathering it into his palm by the time he sat up straight. Causally raising his gaze to Belle above him, he cupped her underwear to his face, sniffing the delicious aroma of her sex. Her lips parted, while she watched him, and then she bit her lip as he tucked the feeble garment into the shallow pocket of his waistcoat.

Adam motioned to the two-seater sofa on his left, ordering her. "Bend over the arm of the chair."

It took a blink of her eyes for the instruction to register before she did it, moving to bending herself over it. The arm of the chair gave her no support, forcing her to literally fold herself in half, so she could keep her ass up in the air for him. He stood up, pulling at the knot of his tie and was yanking it out from his collar as he sidled up behind her, admiring the ass being presented to him.

"Hands behind your back." He instructed.

Her upper body turned from side to side, releasing her arms from underneath her and crooked them behind her back, pushing her wrists together for him. A sly grin pulled back one side of his lips as he spied over her folded form, enjoying the image of her face being mushed into the seat of the chair, while he intricately wrapped his silk tie around her wrists, bounding them together. Having her staged in such a position was most definitely distracting to him. With it being part of his plan, he allowed himself to regard her, coasting his hands down her lower back, over the hump of her ass, crouching down behind her to continue down the back of her legs. The position had her up onto her tiptoes, thrusting out the deadly length of her heels. Her calf and thigh muscles were firm. A by-product of her position. He loved seeing the outlines of her muscles and tilted his head, admiring them, as his hands moved back up her thighs to her ass.

Grasping both cheeks in his hands, Adam pushed them aside, giving him more access to her cunt as he transitioned onto his knees, inclining himself into her, eagerly sticking out his tongue to taste her. She briefly pushed higher on her tiptoes, misaligning them for a second, but settled back, groaning at his tongue probing at her opening. His fingers clenched into her skin, firmly holding her, while he slurped loudly. Licking from the front of her pussy up, he curved his tongue through her folds. Belle moaned as her hips swayed back at him. Firmly holding her in place, putting her more onto her toes, he flicked his tongue, swiping at the hood of her clit. The force of her body pushing back, shoved her pussy more into his face, bumping his nose into her opening. Shoving her back, being more forceful with her, he rammed his tongue into her opening, shaking his head to nestle himself further in, smothering himself her sex as he flicked and licked around the inside of the mouth of her channel.

"Fuck, yes!" Belle moaned, struggling to push herself back onto his tongue.

The crack of his hand on her ass cheek was loud in his ear as he warned her. "Behave, Miss French."

"I can't hel…" Her whine died on the tip of her tongue, forgotten, when he sucked her hooded clit into his mouth and pulled his head back to pop it out.

With the tip of his tongue, he ran tight circles around it, teasing it. She let out a long groan as he slowed the tease of his tongue and veered up through her folds, pushing his tongue into her. Lapping down as much of her moisture as he could collect, Adam sat back onto his heels, swallowing down the taste of her. Greedy for more of her, he licked at his lips, while he launched himself forward, burrowing his face to lick swipe suck nibble at her flesh. A strangled moan was muffled by the seat of the cushion. Clenching at her hips, he pulled her back, impaling his face into her, licking sucking and, downright, losing himself in her.

"Please…" She beseeched him.

Leaning back from her, Adam slapped her ass cheeks. "Soon."

Her words became muffled as she cursed. "Fucks sake."

"Are you complaining, Miss French?" He inquired, skilfully sliding two of his fingers into her. "Would you like me to stop?"

"No." She sucked in a breath as she spoke, choking a little on her word.

"You always have your safe word, dearie." He drew out 'dearie'.

"No." Belle put more force behind her voice.

He eased his fingers out of her, grinning at the new wetness covering his fingers, while he slowly pushed them back into her, telling her. "It's not a competition. No one's going to downgrade you for backing out of it. You only need to say your favourite word."

"No!" She snapped, propelling her hips back and onto his fingers. "I just hate it when you say 'soon'."

"You don't like me making you wait?" Adam asked, grabbing the back of the sofa, helping him to get up onto his feet, while he continued to finger her.

"No, I don't." She grumbled, straining to see him, but couldn't.

Taking his fingers from her, he undid his belt, unfastened his trousers and unzipped his fly, asking her. "Enough that you don't want me to do it anymore?"

She was quiet, recognising the sound. "No…"

"Good." He told her, pushing his trousers and boxers down enough to free himself. "Because I guarantee you," Edging closer to her ass, he grabbed his member and prepared to thrust himself into her as he said. "It'll always be worth it, sweetheart."

Her loud cry obscured the distant music in his study. Grasping the tie bounding her wrists, he hooked her hip with his other hand and hauled her back to meet the thrust of his hips. The chair shunted with their movement. The cheeks of her ass slapped harshly into his crotch as he fucked her, letting go of all the pent-up frustration, she had been causing him. The sleepless nights. The hard-ons that cold showers couldn't cure. The distractions from work. The endless daydreams. The worry that hounded him to find out how she was, what she was doing, who she was with. The torment of wanting something he didn't want to acknowledge. He pounded her so hard, the two-seater had travelled across the floor and was banging into the base of the countertop, separating the sitting area from the kitchen.

Pulling on the restraint around her wrist, her head lifted off the seat of the chair and her upper came up as far as the restraints allowed. He timed the thrust of his hips and let go of her hip to grab her left elbow, using it to haul her further up into a standing position. The clip in her hair had loosened and was flailing all over the place, desperate to hang onto the hair that hadn't escaped from it. Strands of her hair danced about her head as her head hung forward, moaning as she rocked her hips back to meet his, increasing the slap of their hips.

A hot heat flowed around him, cocooning him in a wet warmth. He moaned, basking in the sensation, whilst trying to maintain the rhythm he had set. The walls of her channel fluttered around him, telling him she was going to come soon and bath him in more of her hot essence. He wanted to chase over the edge. Spring the tight coil in his lower back, but he hungered for more.

"Turn around." Adam directed her, while he withdrew from her and yanked on her left arm to swing her round.

Almost toppling backwards over the arm of the chair, Belle was completely at his mercy as he wrapped his arm around her, saving her and trapping her. He grabbed the back of her leg and lifted her. There was a small squeak as he juggled her in his arms, turning to carry her to the nearest wall. The pictures hanging on the wall shook on their hooks, clattering in place. While the others steadied themselves, one of the pictures slipped off its hook and dropped to the floor unnoticed, shattering the glass in the frame. Adam awkwardly supported her weight and angled himself out of the way, giving himself just enough room to line himself up with her opening. Feeling her hot wetness around the head of his cock, he whipped his arm out and hooked it under her leg, spreading her legs out as he thrusted his hips into her, joining her to groan at them being joined again.

"So, fucking beautiful!" He mumbled under his breath as he latched his mouth onto her right nipple, roughly sucking and biting her flesh.

Belle grunted above him. "Argh… Shit...!"

Her left leg wrapped around him, piercing the heel of her shoe into the back of his thigh. The sharp pain made him clench his ass, plunging himself deeper, smacking his balls into her. Pulling back from her breast, he rested his forehead to her chest, adjusting his hold to cradle her ass in his hands. The tension in gut was getting hard to ignore, each time he lurched his hips into her. Everything felt too fucking good. She felt fucking incredible. Wet, loose and ready for him. It must have been a daydream. It had to be, because things this good never happened to Adam.

"I need to come! I need to come!" She chanted, thudding her head against the wall.

Untangling his left arm from over her leg, he hooked his arm under her leg, getting a better hold of her, grasping her ass cheeks in his hands, and heaved her up and against him, grinding her down into his groin. She hummed her appreciation as he bounced her up, knocking another of the pictures off its hook, and guided her down onto his dick. It was slower, but from the noises Belle was making, she was wholly enjoying it. The change had quietened Adam's own need, letting him concentrate on her. Taking a minute step back, it gave him room to swing her hips out, teasingly taking her to the tip of his member before slamming her into him. Witnessing the sensations on her face was glorious.

"Yes!" She urged.

Swinging her into him, he gritted his teeth as her channel began to flutter and a warmth gushed to greet him each time he entered her. Her legs wrapped tightly around him, crossing at her ankles, stabbing her heels into the top of his ass. He rutted his whole body into her, chasing her, spurring her on to her release. Her neck stretched, tilting her head back as she sucked in a ragged breath and held it. He wouldn't stop, couldn't stop himself, even if he wanted. The sensation of her implored him to drive himself deeper.

A deep glutaral groan pushed past her lips. "Gol…d…"

Her muscles clenched around him, holding him, enticing him, caressing him like nothing had before. The slap and squelch of their union was deafened out by his pulse, beating like a bass in his ears. He was so lost in all of it – the sensation, the sound, her. It wasn't until the surge of her orgasm, scorching the length of him. Adam felt the spring snap in his back, driving him to hammer himself into her, bouncing her in the cradle of his hands, taking his pleasure from her. He didn't stop, couldn't stop, until he was fully spent. Stumbling a step, he slumped forward, pinning her, becoming a breathless mass against the wall with her.

His forehead rested in the crook of her neck, whilst he caught his breath. The heat of her, of himself, of his breath washing back over his face, a sheen of sweat clung to him. He could feel the eerie coolness of it, glueing the silk material of his shirt to him. The same intimate feeling, he'd had the last time they'd had sex in his house, was back with full force. The familiarity of her. The homely feeling he had, being so close to her, was hard to ignore. As usual, the urge to turn his face, place a sweet kiss to her neck, to her jaw, to the corner of her mouth before he'd kissed her mouth was also tempting him. Again, Adam was reminded how his week away had been pointless. He wanted her more than he had before. And it only seemed to get stronger, no matter if he saw her or not. Meaning, he was in serious trouble… Or, something he never thought could happen to him, had happened.

He'd fallen in love with Belle French.

Belle turned her face into the side of his head, telling him. "Fuck me, I came so hard, I couldn't make a sound."

"Are you okay, though?" He asked, speaking into her neck.

"My right shoulder aches, but I'm okay." She answered him, nuzzling her nose into his hair, and turned his question on him. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Adam raised his head enough, so he could make eye contact with her. "I'll be alright."

A smile slowly bloomed on her face, lighting up her features in the dim light from the kitchen. He didn't know how it had happened and,truthfully, had gone beyond caring why or how. All Adam cared about was that he'd put a smile on her face. That the glee he saw in her eyes was because of him. As Belle looked at him, he kidded himself, into thinking she felt the same about him. And as long as she kept looking at him like that, he'd bend over backwards to give her everything she'd ever wanted.

"Erm… Mr Gold, as much as I'm… Enjoying being pinned to the wall, could you… Put me down?" She asked, nudging her chin to their predicament.

He looked down at their joined bodies and glanced up to her face, apologising to her as he withdrew his softening member and carefully set her down. "Sorry, I… I…"

She groaned as she said. "It's okay, but can you untie me, please?" And turned to show him her hands. "My nose is itchy."

"Sure." He quickly freed her and stepped back from her, rubbing a warm spot on his tie, concerned she would notice a change in him.

Her right hand shot up to scratch the end of her nose, as she said. "We seemed to be making a habit of breaking things in your house."

Lines riddled his forehead. "What?"

"The picture frames." Belle lowered her hand and pointed to the two picture frames on the floor, one of which the glass had cracked.

He casted his gaze down to them and said to her. "Oh… It's okay. It's no bother. Don't worry about it."

"I don't think you're going to say that, if we break a priceless antique." She commented to him with a grin.

"It's only things." Adam shrugged a shoulder at her as he lifted his gaze to her face.

"Are you okay?" She asked, concern etched on her face and in her voice.

Placing his hand on his chest, he opened his mouth to respond, but his brain got hung up, quickly processing their conversation for a reason for her concern. "Yeah… I'm fine."

With a chuckle and a small shake of her head, Belle stepped away from the wall and closer to him, and touched her hand to the forearm of his hand on his chest. "Just strange for you to be, 'It's only things'. I was hoping for another spanking." She winked at him and he took a sudden breath, whilst she asked. "Now, where's your shower, because I'm sticky?"

"Yes." He stared at her a bit longer than he should've before he jumped into action, stepping back, motioning to the foyer. "Up the stairs, door directly across from the stairs, you can use the ensuite in that bedroom. I'll bring your clothes up in a minute for you."

"Thank you." Belle said, giving his arm a little squeeze.

Her heels clicked on the wooden floor as she strolled by him, heading for the stairs in the dark foyer. Adam watched her kick off her heels at the bottom of the stairs and started the short climb of the first set of the stairs, and waited until she had started up the next set before he bowed his head forward, covering up his face with his hands, his tie hanging limply from his hand.

This wasn't supposed to be like this. He hadn't wanted this, didn't want it, but he'd be damned if he ignored it any longer. He loved her. Regardless of the rules he'd set himself, the intimacy he had guarded himself against, Adam had fallen head over heels in love with her. And what was he supposed to do? Confess his feelings? Act upon them?

"Fuck!" Adam cursed as he threw his hands down to his sides and lifted his head, looking at the front door.

Not even two weeks ago, he'd been standing in nearly the same spot, watching her storm out of his house, knowing his coldness had been for a purpose. This wasn't meant to happen. Adam was the experienced one. The one who had done this for decades with hundreds of women. Falling prey to their emotions should've been Belle with her inexperience. Not him. Not after swearing himself off love. Baring himself from forming meaningful attachments. White picket fences, a dog and kids were not on the cards for him, especially not with Belle. He was old. Not too old, but old enough that he'd already lived his life and she'd got the rest of hers ahead of her. A future where, hopefully, she wasn't working herself to the bone, scourging for every penny, living from paycheck to paycheck. A future where she wasn't stuck, living with her father, and was living her own life away from Storybrooke. Far away, where her father couldn't drag her back and imprison her. Living her life without Adam.

His fists clenched at his sides, hating the thought of it. Shaking it away, he uncurled his fingers and yanked his boxers and trousers up, and fastened the buttoned of his trousers to hold them in place. Shunning his thoughts away, Adam grabbed the arm of the two-seater and dragged it back into position. He compelled his thoughts to focus on now. On the woman upstairs, showering in his guest bedroom. Stooping to snatch up her dress from the floor, he knew he couldn't live in his dreams. Cora had taught him that. Planning a future was what burnt him last time. His hand clutched at the material of the dress as he reminded himself, he had to live for the now, taking what he wanted before things ended.

Adam nodded his head at himself and turned to follow her up the stairs. Light from the guest bedroom spilled out onto the landing, lighting the top of the stairs for him. His gaze was on the open doorway as he got to the top of the stairs and strolled across the landing and into the room. He could clearly hear the shower running and some tune she was humming to herself. Glancing to the doorway of the bathroom, the door was open, welcoming him into the ensuite. The invitation was tempting. He would have joined her like he did at the Club, but with his revelation still fresh in his mind, Adam felt it was best he didn't. So, he laid her dress onto the bed and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him, and traipsed down the hall to his room, turning on the lights as he went.

A quick shower and a change of clothes, he came out of his room, buttoning up one of his casual cotton shirts. His shoes clicked as he walked back down the hallway to the landing, looking at the ajar door of the guest room. It was dark inside. He leaned towards the bannister and peered downstairs as he finished pushing through a button of his shirt, leaving his collar and the one below undone. Belle wasn't in the foyer below and her heels had gone. Frowning slightly, he started to descend the stairs, bending himself forward to sneak a peep into the dark living room. He adjusted where the waist of his trousers sat as he slungshot on the small landing, hopping down two steps at a time. Stepping off the last step into the foyer, a horrid voice mocked him, telling him Belle had already left. His top lip lifted, hating the accusation.

"Hey!" Her voice called from the kitchen, compelling him to look at her, hovering at the back of the two-seater, holding her purse, her damp hair hung loose around her shoulders. "Can I have my underwear back?"

Adam licked his lips as a grin took control of his lips, while he moseyed the couple of steps to stand in the opening to the kitchen, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "They're mine."

"You're keeping them?" She asked, crossing her arms at him, tucking her purse under her arm.

"Till you give me my jacket back." He told her in a playful tone.

"Oh!" Belle unfolded an arm to cover her mouth with her hand. "I forgot about that."

Adam smiled at her before he offered. "Would you like a drink before I take you home?"

"Erm…" She lowered her hand from her mouth, telling him as she started to walk towards him. "No, I'm okay, thanks. I can just walk home, anyway. It won't take me long."

Holding out his arm, he caught her and veered her into him, bringing her into his side. "Do you really think I'm going to let you walk home alone at this time of night?"

Her eyes were wide as he gave her a look, daring her to dispute him. "No," Belle paused, looking him dead in the eye. "You wouldn't."

"I'll take you home." Adam held her gaze, negating to break their connection, and swivelled smoothly on his feet, exchanging the arm around her to direct her to the front door.

The drive across town didn't take long. Though, as Adam swung the Cadillac around in the mouth of the alleyway, at the back of her house, he wished it had been longer. With the roads dead and there mostly being give-way signs from his house to hers, the journey was over sooner than he wanted. Reluctantly shifting into park, he leaned forward as he did it, eyeing the back of her house. There were no lights on at the back of the house, but that didn't mean her father wasn't up. Even though he wanted to, he couldn't walk her up the alleyway to her house. Making sure she got in safely.

"Back to reality, I guess." Belle commented glumly to him, looking up the alleyway through the passenger window.

His gaze shifted to her. "Is that what this is to you?"

She turned her head to look at him. "No, but…" Her lips pursed together. "But when I'm with you, I don't have to think about any of this." She rolled her eyes as said. "About Granny's, about my dad, about money." She blew out a hard breath. "It's just nice to get away for a bit. You know what I mean?"

"Sounds like you need a vacation." He remarked, sitting back into his seat.

"Yeah, with what money?" Belle asked him, giving him a hard look.

His brow creased as he queried her. "Surely, you can scrap some together to get away for a couple of days."

"Pfft!" She threw her head back, looking at the ceiling of the Cadillac before she lowered her gaze back to him, informing him. "I can't even buy myself new shoes for work. The chances of having some spare cash to get away for even a day, is wishful thinking."

Adam breathed in, expanding his chest, and breathed out slowly, hating his suspicions were right. Forget suspicions, he hated that he knew the truth. Her father was a fucking leech. If it wasn't for Belle, they would've lost the house and the shop, years ago. Hearing she couldn't afford the most basic of needs, a pair of shoes, had him clenching his hands into fists, hidden in the darkness of his lap. She deserved better.

"Anyway, you don't want to hear about my shitty life." Belle reached for the door latch as she told him. "Thank you for tonight. It was…" She smirked. "Exactly what I needed."

The interior light illuminated after she pulled the latched and was stepping out with her right foot, when Adam stopped her, catching her arm, startling her to look at him. "Actually, I might be able to help you."

"I don't need your charity, or to owe you." She shook her head at him.

"No." He dismissively waved off her stubbornness with his left hand. "No, it's nothing like that."

A suspicious eyebrow raised at him. "What then?"

"I… I'm going to be at my cabin next week. All week." He shared with her, lying to her.

Her brow pushed up her forehead, disbelieving him. "Really?"

"Yeah, I've… Got a few jobs up there that need taking care of." He backed up his liar with the truth.

"Just all of the sudden, you're going out of town again for the week and just so happen to be going to your cabin." She laid out the facts, sceptically.

"Exactly." Adam smiled at her.

She shifted on her seat, turning to face him with her one leg hanging out of the car. "And you're what? Inviting me to go with you?"

"Well… You'd be helping me out. The place is filthy. Hasn't been used much and needs dusting." He mustered the sweetest look he could for her. "You could sort out the interior for me, while I take care of the jobs outside."

"You want me to clean for you?" Belle asked in a flat tone.

"It shouldn't take too long and then you can do whatever you want." He explained to her, then listed off some things she could do, airily waving his right hand. "You could read… Swimming… Sunbathing… Watch TV… You know, whatever… Go on walks… You could-"

Her hand cut him off as she proclaimed. "Fine."

"Fine?" Adam repeated, unsure he'd heard her right.

"If I can get the time off, I'll come and clean for you, but…" She gave him a pointed look. "You need to do something for me."

A sly smile pulled back the left side of his mouth. "Name it."

"I need a boyfriend."