Double update :) This chapter and the one before!

Summary: He's at it again, looking at his reflection. Belle rolls her eyes to that!
Number of years married:
10
Sons: 3
Daughters: 2


~:~ The most gorgeous thing ~:~

"You are the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen-"

He was talking to himself about himself again, no doubt. Belle scoffed quietly as she passed him. He was sitting in the armchair with a mirror in his hands, most likely admiring the cleft in his chin or the curve of his jaw or his breathtaking eyes or his handsome hairline.

He was aware of her thoughts on his ritual and had heard her gentle scoff. He noticed when she passed him and he set down the mirror.

He watched her backside as she gathered clothes that had not quite made it to their respective baskets. He licked his lips. "You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen."

She turned around at that. A delicate and confused frown was to her face, and he stood to wipe it away. "I thought you were still talking about yourself," she mused lightly.

He stopped in front of her, his frame towering over her. His muscles visible beneath his loose white shirt, the one with the drawstrings he knew Belle couldn't keep her fingers away from. The longer they had been married, the less intimidating he became but the more devilishly sexy - and irresistible - he was. He grinned wolfishly - reading her thoughts.

She took a step back. No, she had loads of laundry to catch up on. She didn't have time to fool around with him… though she oh so wanted to. She knew he knew what that shirt did to her. And she knew he knew her quiet obsession for beards as she noted the thicker stubble ghosting his jawline longer than usual. She shook her head and returned to her… her work, yes that was right.

His eyes caught a loose strand of hair that did not quite make it into her ponytail. His fingers were at it before he knew it. He tucked it in back of her ear. Then he spoke, and when he spoke, the sultriness of his voice made her knees weak. "I mean it, Belle. I do not deserve you."

She froze for a second then recovered. Gaston would and had never been so easily humbled… openly admitting he was wrong in some way somehow. She looked at him and his grin.

"Flattery, Gaston, will get you nowhere." She tried to put on a brave face.

His grin didn't falter. He stepped closer and nuzzled her neck. "The kids are gone," he noted, snaking a bulky arm around her middle and pulling her flush against him.

"Gaston," she tried to complain.

His chest rumbled with a chuckle then he dropped small kisses on the back of her neck. "Belle," he whispered huskily, throatily.

Her body tingled at the deep baritone of his voice. She set down the laundry in defeat. "Oh, Gaston..." she sighed, giving into his touch.


His familiar weight on top of her was bliss.

He traced the bite mark on her shoulder with a thick finger before ducking his head and running his tongue across the teeth marks.

She moaned and threaded her fingers across his scalp and through his hair. "Nobody bites like Gaston."

He grinned and huskily agreed, "Darn right."