Disclaimer: If I owned OUAT you would know from all the Rumbelle sex.

CHAPTER 4

DREAMS

"We've been here too long, trying to get along. Pretending that we're oh so shy."-Do You Wanna Touch Me Ther, Joan Jett

He's never wanted anything the way he wants her. He's never found himself as incredibly entranced as when he sees her doing anything. Cooking, cleaning, carefully repositioning his things. Anything she did attracted him to her more and more. Her smile. Her laugh. Her dainty yet full figure. He wanted it all. He'd be lying if he said that wasn't part of his intentions when he brought her here. When his eyes landed on hers...so clear and blue and perfect...a not so little part of him knew he had to have her.

But it was getting torturous. Simply looking at her sparked desire in him. It was impossible to take.

So it is no surprise that he wound up banging down the door to her bedroom only to find her naked and scarcely covered by a blanket on her bed. She's pretending to sleep but he knows fully well that she's awake and she knows he's there. He knows this because he can see her trying to hide her smile in her pillow.

"Have you been waiting for me, dearie?" he asks her.

"Yes," she says into her pillow, "I've needed you for quite some time now."

And those words are all it takes for him to be on top of her, pinning her arms to her sides and forcing her to look at him.

"Is that so?"

She gasps and stares up at him, saying nothing.

"You should be careful what you say, dearie. You never know where it could lead," he murmurs.

He doesn't give her a chance to say anything before lowering his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately, the way he's always wanted to.

The sound of her moans fill his ear and he smiles against her, running his fingers through her hair. She arches up against him and he growls, angered by the fact that that damned sheet is keeping her from being pressed up against him. His hand clenches around the sheet and he rips it from the space between them before throwing it onto the ground aggressively. She gasps against him mouth, only peaking his desire. He puts his hand against her bare back, wanting her closer to him while the other hand teases her breast, making little circles around it before flicking and pinching at her nipple. He can feel her desire for him. Feel how much she needs him. It would be wrong of him to deny her that.

He runs one finger down her sternum, across her stomach, and thorough the curls surrounding her throbbing sex.

"Belle," he gasps, "do you want this?"

She doesn't answer. Of course she doesn't. She could never love him and he knew the fact that she hadn't asked him to stop was enough.

Her lack of response aggravates him. He wrenches him finger deep inside her, listening to her scream for only a moment before adding another, hard and fast. She's panting so hard he's afraid she'll stop breathing, but it doesn't matter enough for him to stop torturing her with pleasure. His finger pulses on the button he knows she's craving and he can feel her walls contract around his hand. Her screams erupt around the room. Her screams of his name.

"Is that what you wanted, dearie? Are you happy with this?" he asks her

She still doesn't answer. She just gasps and pants, which is only what he expects. He'd never let himself that she truly had any desire to let him do this to her. He slowly draws his hand out from her released walls, feeling how wet it is from her juices. He sucks on his fingers, thrilled with himself for getting her here. He looks at her. She looks tortured, but there's something else...he can almost mistake it for desire.

Almost. She arches up, gasping into his ear. "Rumpelstiltskin," she moans.

At that point he just let himself say fuck to all control. "Yes, love?"

"Stop."

And that's it. He's reminded of why the walls are there to begin with. Why he's never let himself feel anything for another person since his son. Because love his weakness. He was sure he'd known that. But was this really love? Or just pure and simple lust fueling his actions? He could never quite be sure. He couldn't be sure of anything anymore.

Except her. When he felt completely alone...when anything went wrong, he saw her and was sure of only one thing: he needed her.

But it's quite clear that she doesn't need him. It's clear that she needs her family, her friends, and her cushy little palace. But she doesn't need him in the slightest.

And that's why she's gone and he's lying alone in the dark on her bed trying to remember what her body felt like beneath his with only the sounds of the wind and rain to comfort him. And the words of his regrets echoing around him.

"He returned home to a wife who could not bear the sight of him."

"Women do not like to be married to cowards."

"You see it don't you? You hurt people all the time."

"You coward! Don't break our deal!

You coward.

You coward."

And he's toppling over, so close to falling off the edge and giving up entirely because the walls he's spent his lifetime building up are crumbling onto him all because of Belle. All because of him perfect little beauty.

So close. So close he swears that he can hear people begging him to fall. And he's ready to listen to them.

Until he is awakened by the sound of rain.

Oh dear God I swear that was not supposed to be that depressing. Sorry it took me so long to update! Please accept my condolences. I hope you liked this. Random fact: Glad You Came came onto the radio while I was writing this...wooo! Anyway, next time it's back to the tavern with more Red Cricket so be prepared!