Belle French was bored. Too say that her boredom was an uncommon occurrence would be a lie. Honestly, in these recent weeks Belle had been nothing but bored. She was bored when she read, she was bored when she ate dinner, she was bored when she went on walks.
And most of all, she was bored in bed.
Mr Gold just wasn't enough any more. She still loved him, of course she did. But that love was buried under boredom, under carefully plastered smiles. Fake smiles. It just wasn't fair. She had tried to suggest to Rumple that maybe they could liven things up a little. She suggested a threesome, she thought that might liven him up a little. She had even said she didn't care if their extra was male or female. She knew Rumple didn't take their marriage vows to seriously for that sort of thing, after all he had been with Cora, Regina and Zelena since then. But he had just kept refusing her. He didn't want anything else.
And so it shouldn't really have come as a surprise that Belle found herself admiring Henry Mills a little more than she should have done.
As Henry began to become frustrated, Belle found herself rubbing his arms gently, trying to calm him down. She could tell how stressed and frustrated he was, his bare arms where tense and the muscles taught. They reminded her of a coiled spring, ready to push forward. She bit at her lip, trying to imagine she was comforting someone else. Her father, yes, she'd imagine she was comforting her father.
…...
Henry Mills felt so frustrated. Nothing ever went his way. Nothing ever worked. He was supposed to be the truest believer, the hero that they could all rely on. And yet he just couldn't do anything right. Time and again he failed.
Beside him, Belle begins to rub his arms. He feels some of the tension gradually leave him, flowing from his body as Belle's hands carefully ease his tension. At first, her careful hands, soft and smooth from all that time spent in doors, as delicate as the hands of someone well used to handling the fragile pages of old books must be, just comforted him. At first, they reminded him of Regina, the way she would calm him down.
But Henry felt a strange tingling in the pit of his stomach, a complicated knot that he had never felt before. Well, no, he had felt it before, but never quite like this. he'd felt a similar feel when the pretty girls at school had bumped into him. When he read the special book on Regina's bedside table, the book that Regina had been cross when she'd found missing and blamed it on Robin. When he read fan-fiction on his phone at night, the dark fan- fictions, the ones that shamed their original stories. When his mates had shown him what porn was.
But now, that feeling was more than ever before. It wasn't as shameful as before, somehow, this time it felt real. And Belle was making him feel this way! Belle, whom was married to his grandfather. Belle, whom was so nice and innocent. Henry tilted his head to one side and pushed Belle backwards. He stared at her. He wanted her. Wanted her so bad, wanted to taste her, to smell her sweat, to see her luscious body, to hear her cry his name and to feel her trapped beneath him. God, he wanted it so bad.
He walked over to her, taking her hands in his. She looks at him, unflinching, her steady gaze matching his fiery and passionate gaze. God, the look in her eyes is infuriating. He wants her so bad, and her eyes show nothing but calm, a cruel conflict to the passions swelling inside Henry. Henry leans in, kissing her, chaste and cautious at first, but rapidly pushing into something much more. His lips press hard against hers, pushing with a firm shove, hard enough almost to leave a bruise. His tongue enters her mouth and she lets him in, letting him explore inside her. God, he needs more, he needs more more than anything else he's ever needed, more than he ever needed Regina to be good, Emma to believe him, more than he ever needed to be the hero even.
But then Belle pushes him backward. Henry feels his hands grow clammy with nervous and shame. It seems everyone is rejecting him. Even Belle, so eager for his kiss, pushes him off.
"Why don't you want me?" Henry stutters. He tries to keep his voice steady and clear, prevent it from shaking, but he doubts it will be successful. He wants this too desperately, wants her to desperately.
"Henry, its not that I don't want you. But I am married, to your grandfather no less, and you are underage. I am not sure that this is the right thing to do." Belle says cautiously.
"Rumple slept with Regina and Zelena and Cora and Meera. And basically all of them appear somewhere else on my family tree. I don't see how your marriage is an issue. And yes, maybe I am not an adult. But I want this, so bad, Belle, can't you see? This is the right thing to do, you want it, I want it, this is right."
Belle nods quietly. Henry steps back towards her and she kneels down before him. She gently takes his trousers off, pulling them down. She gently pulls Henry's shorts down too, and then she gently begins kissing Henry, kissing him, teasing him. Henry feels his legs grow weak and he leans forward, as sensations unknown tremor through him. Belle carefully takes him into her mouth, teasing and sucking, her tongue running circles, careful, delicate, almost innocently.
But the feelings Henry experiences now are far from innocent. The tingling sensations buzzing through him. God, this is magic, more powerful magic than anything else, more powerful than Regina's spells, than Rumple's trinkets. More powerful magic than Love, even. Henry shudders and pushes himself forward, grabbing the back of Belle's head and pushing himself further down, desperate for more pressure.
He shudders hard as he knows he is reaching the brink of sensation, knows he is about to cum into her mouth, knows this wondrous adventure is changing rapidly. He lets out a jagged breathy moan, and Belle lets out a moan back, matching him. Suddenly, Henry lets go, riding the wave of pleasure, higher than the time he stole drugs out of Emma's car, more fulfilled than when he knew he'd saved storybrooke the first time.
As Belle draws back, Henry drops to his knees. He pants slightly, catching his breath, and Belle pulls him into an embrace, kissing him harder than before. Henry tastes himself on her, the salty taste in her mouth reminding him of the sea.
She looks up at him, and tilts her head to one side, her reddish brown hair a mess, falling casually into her eyes, her lips red and swollen, her eyes glazed with desire. She carefully unbuttons her shirt, slowly and calmly, almost as though she's teasing him. Henry pulls the button of quicker, tearing her shirt in the process. He removes her skirt, and then she pulls her underwear off.
Henry looks at her, carefully drinking in the sight of her body. Her skin is smooth and pale, creamy white, reminding him of milk or snow or white chocolate. Her breasts are plump and firm, perfectly rounded and smooth. She's pretty, youthful and elegant. Henry leans forward, and she leans backward, till he is sat straddling her. He can feel himself getting hard again. He gently begins to tease her, rubbing her breasts, pulling at her nipples, kissing all over her torso. She lets out a whimper, and tries to push Henry's head down as he's kissing her stomach. Henry does the opposite, moving his mouth upward.
Then he takes himself in his hands and gently guides his member downward, down to Belle's entrance. He can feel she's wet, wet like a little whore, desperate for him inside her. Slowly, taking it cautiously, he obliges her unspoken desire and pushes into her, relishing in her gasps of pleasure. He begins to move, cautiously at first, but gradually picking up speed and confidence.
"Your pussy is my wonderland." he murmurs, the powerful feelings in him controlling him like nothing he's ever known. She smiles up at him, moaning slightly as he pushes against her even harder.
When Henry cums this time, it is even more a wondrous sensation than before. He feels as though he must be the most powerful man alive to deserve this wonder. He collapses, covered in sweat, exhausted, onto Belle's chest, and they lie there, naked, together, the memories of their time together still fresh and sweet in their heads.
