Warning: This chapter contains adult themes and situations … reader discretion is advised.
XXII
"If I have to greet and bow to one more of those snobby sycophants –"
Belle turned and pressed a kiss to her husband's cheek as they stood in the receiving line just inside the ballroom. "You're doing wonderfully, my love. And really, it shouldn't be much longer before dinner is announced and we can all adjourn to the high table."
"Mama, my feet hurt," Baelfire complained from where he stood between his mother and the prince. His new shiny black boots pinched something awful at the toes. "And I'm hungry."
"I'm with you, little man," Lucern sympathized, patting the boy on the shoulder. "But it is just something we must endure for the pomp and ceremony expected of us."
"How come grandpa doesn't have to stand here in line with us, unca Luc?"
Belle greeted another lady of the court with a forced smile before turning her attention to her son. "Because your grandfather is preparing something very special for you, my darling boy."
Rumpelstiltskin brightened considerably as the master spinner – employed by the king – came through the line and bowed respectfully. Belle smiled indulgently, seeing her husband had finally been congratulated by someone with which he'd forged a friendship. The downside was that Rum could converse with the man for hours on end without ever tiring. She supposed she could meet and greet in his stead for a bit.
Belle was rather relieved when a footman cut into line. "Highness, his majesty requests you join him in his study now," he said, relaying the message and leaving with a respectful bow.
Lyssa and Lucern remained in the receiving line to welcome everyone in Belle's stead as she led her husband and son from the ballroom and one floor up to her papa's study. "There is a couple, Master Brathan, said who would like to relocate to Dunsmore so the woman can be closer to her mother. They're both experienced spinners and the young man is an accomplished weaver, Belle. I think they'd do nicely to get our shop up and running," Rumpelstiltskin gushed excitedly.
"That's wonderful, my darling," she said, happy to see him so looking forward to adding a new opportunity to their village. Baelfire had already expressed an interest in helping his papa and her husband was eager to teach him the trade. Perhaps if he didn't decide to become a knight, he would one day want to run the shop himself.
The king rose from behind his formidable desk, beckoning the three into the room after calling for them to enter. Belle hurried across the room to embrace him, her heels making not a sound against the thick Agrabahan carpet. "I'm sorry I haven't finished before now, m'girl, but I wanted to make sure the document was signed, sealed and filed away in the vault today. We just need your husband's signature … and yours of course."
Belle stepped out of his arms and lifted the contract from the center of his desk, her eyes rapidly sweeping over the parchment and taking in each word. "It's perfect. Thank you so much, Papa," she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She picked up the quill and added her name to it.
"Well, I won't keep you, sweetheart. I think it's time I put in an appearance. Dinner should be served before long." He ruffled Baelfire's hair as he left, promising to share a piece of treacle fudge with him later.
"Belle? What is it, dearest?" Rumpelstiltskin asked, his hand settling on her hip as he tried to read the king's looping scrawl over his wife's shoulder.
"Is that my surprise, Mama?" Bae asked, not looking at all impressed with the piece of parchment in his mother's hands.
She nodded and handed the document to her husband for his perusal. "It is indeed. It's a certificate of adoption," she said solemnly, her gaze swinging between Rumpel and Bae. "I know how worried you've been lately … about me leaving you … and I just wanted to put your mind at ease, Bae."
"Y-You want to adopt him?" Rumpelstiltskin stammered, stunned.
"We just need your signature, darling … if you agree, that is." She gave him a pointed look. Milah was still out there, and despite the contract she'd signed, waiving her rights to the boy, neither of them would put it past her to try to take Bae from them at some point in the future. "I don't want to just be his step-mother. I want to be his mother in truth."
Baelfire threw his arms about her waist and squeezed with all the strength he possessed. "I love you, M-Mama!" he cried, his little voice wavering with emotion.
Belle pressed a kiss to his crown. "And I love you, my precious boy."
Rumpelstiltskin dipped a quill into the inkpot and penned his name to the document. "I think it's a splendid idea, my love," he murmured, wrapping his arms about his wife and son.
"Papa, you're squishing me," Bae said, squirming to get free. "Can we have cake now?"
Belle snorted. "Yes, darling, I suppose we can."
*.*.*
Baelfire abandoned his parents when they all returned to the ballroom, in favor of sitting next to his grandfather. A long table had been set up for the royal family and smaller round tables littered the edges of the dance floor for the rest of their guests. Rumpelstiltskin was a bit crestfallen to have his son choose to sit with the king instead of his parents, however. But he knew how much his boy loved his new grandfather and when they departed for Dunsmore the next morning, it would be a while before they could spend time together again.
"Let him have his fun, Rum. Our son is going to miss his grandpa when we return to Dunsmore," Belle said soothingly as she held a piece of succulent lamb to his lips. He accepted her offering, nipping gently at her fingertips, causing her to blush as heat pooled in her belly.
"He's growing up too fast," he grumbled, ignoring the minstrels working their way through the ballroom to entertain their guests. Rumpelstiltskin was far too besotted with his bride to see much of what was going on around him. He speared a piece of potato – perfectly roasted with rosemary and thyme – onto the end of his fork and fed it to her.
Belle pushed their plates aside as two footmen wheeled a four-tiered wedding cake into the room on a cart. Her skirts made a gentle rustling sound as she rose and took her husband's arm, allowing him to lead her over to the confection. She was surprised he wasn't drooling. Sweets were definitely one of his weaknesses.
"Here, dear heart," Rumpelstiltskin said, handing her the pastry knife. "Why don't you go first."
Belle chuckled as she cut into the cake and brought a small bite up to his lips. "May our lives always be as rich as this cake."
He chewed slowly, savoring the delicate flavor before cutting a small bite for her, bringing it up to her mouth. He shivered as her lips closed over his fingers, accepting the cake from him. "And may our love always be as sweet as your lips." His arm slid about her waist, pulling her closer as he pressed his brow to hers, giving her a moment to enjoy her treat before capturing her mouth with his.
"You've been reading poetry again, haven't you, husband?" she teased as she leaned into him.
"Perhaps I find it soothing and it helps me sleep."
Her fingers curled into the ends of his soft hair, tugging gently as she knew he liked. "And I think perhaps you just have a romantic heart."
*.*.*
Rumpelstiltskin bowed low to his precious bride, holding out his hand to her. "Will you honor me with a dance, my beauty?" he asked, handing his cane to a waiting footman.
Belle curtsied to him and let her fingers slide across his warm palm. "Are you sure, Rum?" she asked, her eyes wide with worry. "Your ankle –"
"Will be fine," he assured her. "I believe I can manage a dance or two with my lovely wife."
She beamed as he led her out onto the polished parquet floor and swept her up into his arms. The soft notes from the small orchestra filling the room barely registered on her. She was too stunned as he led into the dance with his nearly perfect footwork. "Rum, when … how?" she asked in an awestruck tone.
"Gaston and Lucern taught me the steps this week. Lyssa helped, too," he admitted sheepishly. "I didn't want to disappoint you by not knowing how to dance."
Belle curled her hand over his nape and sighed into his shoulder. "You never cease to amaze me, Rumpelstiltskin." She didn't notice when others joined them on the dance floor. Ruby and Gaston, Jefferson and his daughter, Lucern and Lyssa as well as members of the court. today was about her husband and she was lost in his eyes, cherished in his arms, happier than she'd ever been.
*.*.*
It wasn't until the bride was led away to the Rose suite that the nerves began to kick in. Lyssa prattled away, her softly accented voice filled with mirth as she explained it was only right for the newlyweds to have the suite in the south wing to ensure their privacy. It had been Colette's sanctuary … where she would go to be alone when she'd needed time away from her husband after a spat. It was one of Belle's favorite rooms in the entire palace.
The suite was open on two sides with columned verandas. One side contained comfortable seating, plants and flowering shrubs and on the other was a large bathing pool. Maurice had commissioned this tower room for Colette's use, thinking the view of the sea and the beach below would help to calm his lady wife's temper.
Dominating the room was an immense four poster bed, draped in damask silks, gauzy curtains and a rich velvet duvet, pillows in a myriad of sizes piled along the headboard. Belle blushed as she stepped into the room, her eyes landing on the bed, thoughts of what she'd be doing there soon filling her head.
Her eyes misted as she scanned the numerous bookcases lining the walls with her mother's favorite tomes, and footmen scurried about adding the finishing touches which would assure her comfort for the evening. She smiled as she moved over to the little sitting area next to the hearth, a crackling fire burning brightly within.
The wedding feast would go on for days, but Belle was thankful she and her little family wouldn't have to stay for the duration. She was looking forward to returning to Dunsmore on the morrow. She took a seat on the settee as Lyssa and Ruby followed her into the room. they were joined shortly thereafter by Mrs. Potts who set a tea service on the small coffee table next to a slaver of sweetmeats and fruit and a bottle of chilled wine.
"Drink up, m'dear," the older woman said as she poured tea into a cup for the princess. "It will help relax you. I suspect you have little over an hour until your husband joins you."
"Agatha, why do you seem so nervous?" Belle asked, her curiosity at its peak. Normally, the woman was unflappable.
Ruby giggled as she went to the vanity and retrieved Belle's hairbrush, carrying it back with her to the sitting area. "I suspect you're about to get … the talk," Ruby whispered in an ominous tone as she began to pull the pins and jeweled comb from Belle's hair.
The princess arched a brow. "The talk?" she queried. "Agatha Potts, are you blushing?"
"Never you mind, dear girl," she grumbled. "And you won't be receiving the talk until Ruby makes herself scarce."
Ruby shot the woman a crestfallen look. "Why do I have to leave? I'm of a marriageable age. I should be able to stay and hear what you have to say."
"Because it's not you who's anticipating her wedding night. Besides, my sister would skin me alive if I deprived her of the pleasure of telling you herself," Mrs. Potts said, wringing her hands. She was nearly as nervous as Belle.
"Granny wouldn't mind … much," Ruby insisted, pulling the brush through Belle's hair until it shone in the soft glow of the candles.
"Ruby … no."
"Fine. You all act as if I'm some innocent child whose fragile mind would break with the knowledge of sex!"
Belle nearly choked on her tea while Lyssa burst out laughing and Mrs. Potts looked as if she'd swallowed lemons.
Before she could be scolded again, Ruby kissed Belle on the cheek and wished her luck. "I suppose I'll go. No need to stay where I'm not wanted." She smirked at her great aunt. "Perhaps Gaz is still in the ballroom and we can share another piece of cake. See you tomorrow, m'lady."
"That girl!" Mrs. Potts blustered. "She's going to find herself in trouble one of these days."
Belle shook her head. "No, I don't think so. As taken as Gaz is with her, I don't think it will be long before they, too, marry."
"They're so lovely together," Lyssa added as she snatched a strawberry from the tray and popped it in her mouth. "Gaz is such a wonderful man. He deserves his happiness."
"Aye, he does," Mrs. Potts said, taking Belle's empty cup and setting it aside. "Now let's see about getting you out of that dress."
Lyssa was careful with the long row of buttons on the back of the dress, the buttonhook making it easier than if she'd tried it by hand, and it was a matter of minutes before the dress pooled at her feet and Mrs. Potts was able to take it away. "Belle, you're trembling, darling," Lyssa murmured as she unknotted her corset strings. "Relax. You know Rumpel would never hurt you. I've never seen a man more caring and gentle than your spinner."
Her corset, stockings, petticoats and bloomers were stripped away, her shift following, all to be replaced with a scandalous negligee made entirely of virginal white lace. Boy, if they only knew, she thought with a wicked smirk teasing her lips. It dipped very low in the back and left the tops of her breasts on display for her husband's pleasure, only two very thin straps holding it secure at her shoulders.
"You look lovely, my sister," Lyssa cooed in approval.
Belle's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. "Oh my! You should commend yourself for procuring this for me without dying from embarrassment, Lyssa."
Lucern's wife shrugged. "I wanted to find something you could both enjoy."
Mrs. Potts took her charge's hand and led her over to the hope chest resting at the foot of the bed, urging her to sit down. "Belle … oh, you don't know how difficult it is for me to say this … you have a duty to your husband, and –"
Belle took the woman's hands and squeezed gently. "Agatha, I love you. You've been like a mother to me my whole life, and therefore I can't put you through this."
"No, I must prepare you for what is to come."
"But –"
"You have a duty to your husband," Mrs. Potts continued, steadfast in her own duty to her charge. She would not have her little Belle going off without the basic knowledge of what was expected of her. "Don't be afraid, though."
Lyssa stretched out on the bed behind them, bracing herself on her elbow, her chin coming to rest in her hand. "Definitely not. It's more pleasure than duty, darling. Especially if he has some skill." She waggled her brows.
"Oh, good heavens," the older woman scolded.
"Agatha, I've done a fair bit of reading on the subject. I know what to expect," Belle said gently. She wasn't going to scandalize her with details of what she and Rumpel had already tried in their lusty encounters.
"Why am I not surprised? You always have been a little bookworm." She wrung her hands, her fingers twisting in her apron. "Are you sure you don't need me to tell you more?"
"There's this trick I can share with you about how to please him with your mouth … if you're interested," Lyssa teased, reveling in the blush staining Mrs. Potts' cheeks.
"Oh, you shameless child. Whatever am I to do with you?"
The girls couldn't contain their giggles as the woman made her way to the door, leaving them alone with the promise of dire retribution when they least expected it.
*.*.*
Rumpelstiltskin grumbled petulantly to himself as he shot a glare at his still mending ankle. Every step caused him to lean heavily upon his gold handled cane, a dull, nagging wave of pain shooting through the joint with each movement. He'd spent entirely too much time on his feet today, but he hadn't wanted his beloved to be disappointed.
He'd loved the feeling of having his bride in his arms, the bliss coursing through his veins as he twirled her about the dance floor time and again. Besides, if she was dancing with him, it kept her out of the arms of others who wanted the pleasure of dancing with her. He was coming to realize he had a possessive streak buried deep within him which had been clawing its way to the surface recently.
Good Gods! Who had thought it a good idea to turn this tower room into their honeymoon suite, he thought with no small amount of irritation as he climbed yet another set of stairs. Then again, his irritation could have stemmed from being apart from her for far too long. His new father in law – as well as Lucern and Gaston – had insisted he give Belle time enough to change and make herself comfortable before he joined her, offering him good company and a strong tumbler of spirits while he cooled his heels.
Baelfire had begged to spend his last night in the palace with his friends, and he had to commend Lady Myerson for her patience to take on four young – and very hyper – boys for the evening. How could he refuse when it was his son's dearest wish?
Now he was traversing unfamiliar corridors in search of his wife. She was his now, bound to him before the eyes of man and with the blessings of the gods. There was nothing standing in the way of them consummating their relationship now, and Belle had made it clear just how impatient she was by the way she'd been teasing him throughout the day.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally reached the ornate double doors with their intricate carvings of roses. Should he knock? Was she waiting for him? It was to be their chamber after all, but how was he to know what protocols he was supposed to follow?
Everything was so different in this society he'd come to live in than his previous existence. When he'd married Milah, the feast had been nowhere near as grand as the one he'd just left, his head so buzzed with drink he'd hardly remembered his wedding night. He'd vowed not to do the same tonight, despite his nerves. At least his nerves stemmed from excitement rather than fear.
A shiver rippled up his spine as he pushed open the doors and stepped into the room, taking in the soft glow of candlelight and the warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth. He felt as if he'd stumbled onto an ethereal plane and all he needed was his angel to guide him into paradise.
"Belle?" he called softly, his voice hoarse with the weight of his emotions.
A movement off to his left drew his attentions away from his perusal of their borrowed chamber. She was a vision where she stood on the veranda bathed in the pale light of the moon, her feet bare on the cool stones, swathed in a sheer dressing gown which did little to hide her ample curves from his view. His feet moved of their own accord, bringing him closer, gravitating towards her.
Belle turned, holding her hand out to him, a welcome invitation for him to join her. His fingers twined with hers as she pulled him to her side and wrapped her other arm about his waist. "I missed you," she confessed, her voice barely more than a whisper. She lifted her face up to his, sighing against his lips as he bent to kiss her. "You looked a bit forlorn when Lyssa dragged me away."
Rumpelstiltskin snorted. "It's good you had time alone to prepare, regardless of my feelings." He stroked his callused fingers over her hair and smiled. "Our son is sleeping over with Abel and two others at the Myerson's."
Belle giggled. "I'm glad he's able to spend time with his friends before we return to Dunsmore. He'll miss Abel terribly, but at least he'll have Grace."
"And I," he murmured, his thumb brushing over her lower lip, "shall have you." He blinked. Where had that bit of boldness come from? "I mean …"
She bit her lip as her gaze riveted on his flushed cheeks. Her hands slid beneath his lapels and curled over his shoulders as she pushed his jacket off and then draped it over the balustrade. Her lips ghosted over the sensitive flesh where his pulse beat a rapid tempo. "You'll always have me, my love."
He shivered as she continued to lavish his throat with attention, her deft little fingers quickly divesting him of his waistcoat. This was not going at all as he'd planned. It should be him seducing her, but she'd taken the initiative and he was slowly bending to her will, putty in her clever hands. If he didn't put a halt to this, he was going to embarrass himself before they ever made it to the bed.
Rumpelstiltskin knew he was going to regret it in the morning, but threw caution to the wind and swept her up into his arms, his cane clattering against the stones as he tossed it aside.
"Rumpel, your ankle!" she cried, wrapping her arms about his neck to better his center of balance. "You're going to hurt yourself, you daft man!"
He chuckled at her scolding, bearing her to the bed and sitting down with her on his lap. He kissed her gently and caressed her cheek with his thumb, his fingers gliding into the soft hair at her temple. "Every twinge of pain I've suffered today has been worth it, dearest. I'd walk through fire for you."
She leaned into his touch, her heart swelling with love, but it still pained her that he'd had to suffer. "I know you would, but I don't want you to hurt yourself. You're still healing, and Dr. – "
"Every dance, every moment I stood with you by my side was worth any pain. These were moments I will cherish for the rest of my life, Belle." He burrowed his nose in the crook of her neck as his long spinner's fingers squeezed her hip. "If it weren't for you and your care, it wouldn't have been possible."
Her cerulean eyes grew soft, and moisture gathered at the corners. "I love you. I'll always care for you when you're hurt," she murmured softly, carding her fingers through his silky hair. "Though I don't know if my heart could bear another harrowing incident as this last one."
Rumpelstiltskin lifted his head and grinned sheepishly. "That was a freak accident, but I will endeavor to be more careful."
She squirmed upon his lap as his hand ghosted along her side, the touch meant to soothe but enflamed instead. "I know you will," she whispered, closing the distance between them to catch his lower lip between her own. He held himself back, his lips leaving soft sipping kisses on her rosebud mouth, refusing to deepen and give her what she wanted so desperately. She frowned. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing," he lied, his hand tugging at the tie to her dressing robe, pulling it open to reveal the lace beneath.
"I don't believe you."
"Of course, you don't."
"Tell me," she insisted as she pulled the snowy white cravat from about his throat. "I know you, my Rumpel. I can tell when something is troubling you."
He sighed, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "The bride isn't the only one to experience wedding night jitters, dearest." A smirk curled the left corner of his lips. "Even with all the 'practice' – I believe you like to call it –we've done leading up to this moment."
"Yes, but this time … this time I will be able to see all of you. Including the bits you've insisted on hiding from me." Her fingers worked the row of buttons on his shirt as she met his gaze, unable to miss the wince which crawled over his features.
"What if you don't like what you see?" he asked, his voice strained.
"I've seen you … bathed you. I assure you, I have no issue with your wonderful body." She pushed the silk shirt from his shoulders and arched a dubious brow at him, running her hands over his bare chest. "You're beautiful, Rumpelstiltskin … and you're mine," she fairly growled. "I love every part of you." She pressed her lips to his ear, her warm breath making him shiver as she whispered, "Touch me. As much as I love being your bride, now I need you to make me your wife."
Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, awestruck as a surge of desire sent his blood racing. The heat of the room seemed amplified on his flesh, his heart sped, and his skin felt tight as if his meager body couldn't adequately contain what he felt for her. It was primal and pure, all reservations obliterated from his mind, only the need to please her, to take her and make her uppermost in his thoughts. His eyes darkened to the color of rich ocher and she smiled triumphantly, knowing she'd won. The evidence of her victory was written clearly on her lovely face as she shrugged out of her robe, the silk pooling about her waist.
He tossed the garment to the floor and moved his precious treasure to lie back against the pillows, assuring her comfort. His cock twitched, and he silently cursed the confining leather trousers he wore, but he was too impatient to see to their removal just yet. He dipped his head, claiming her lips hungrily, nipping gently until she opened for him and allowed his tongue to thrust into her sweet mouth. Her tongue darted out to meet his, stroking sensuously against his own, her flavor sweeter than anything he'd ever known, and it only made him want her more.
He pressed closer, needing to feel her body flush with his, only to find himself surprised when her hands braced against his chest to gently push him back. Had he done something wrong? Gone too fast? Displeased her in some way. "Rum, your boots … take them off," she breathed.
The spinner glared down at the boot on his right foot and its many straps and buckles, hating it for the first time since he'd received it. He sat up on the side of the bed, grumbling and cursing the contraption under his breath as he yanked and pulled at the brace, relieved when it finally came free and hit the rug with a loud thump. It was easy to pull his boots off then and send them to join it on the floor. A low rumble of pleasure rose up in his chest as he turned to find his wife laid out before him, one arm thrown above her head in abandon.
He drank in the sight of him, her lace gown clinging seductively to her curves, her pale flesh glowing in the candlelight, her chest flushed a becoming shade of pink due to her arousal. She was a banquet for his hungry gaze, and he wasted no time moving to her side. He wanted to take things slowly, to draw out her pleasure, to make this an experience she'd look back on with fondness, but the knowledge that he was going to inevitably hurt her nagged at his mind. It wouldn't let go.
Belle's fingers curled into his hair, tugging his head down to bring his lips to hers. She could feel his fear, a palpable ugly entity between them, and it left her disconcerted. Now was not the time for reservations or self-loathing brought on by years of abuse. Not now; not this night. Tonight, he belonged to her and she would allow nothing to come between them.
Her hand kneaded his shoulder and trailed down his arm, mapping the contour of his warm skin before she grasped his wrist and drew his arm to wrap about her waist. He gasped as his fingers came in contact with her back – bared by her revealing gown – and he pulled back to meet her gaze. She smiled coyly and opened for him again as his lips crashed down on hers with more fervor. There was her Rumpel, the man she loved, the spinner who could weave his desires to match her own with the delicate threads of his passion.
He pulled her closer, her breasts pressing delightfully against his chest as his lips trailed a hot path to her ear. He reveled in her responses, her little breathy moans, the scratch of her nails on his bare skin; each one fueled his ever-growing desire. He moved with exquisite slowness, every touch, every kiss, a sweet torture until she couldn't bear anymore.
Belle cast him a hot look as she pushed against his shoulders, coaxing him to lie on his back. Her eyes were filled with heat and raw determination as she followed, refusing to put too much distance between them. She couldn't bear it any longer, the slow sweep of his hands or the gentle press of his lips. She needed more. She lifted the lace gown away from her legs and climbed atop him, coming to settle on the evidence of his desire which was straining – what had to be painfully – against his tight leather trousers.
Her hands splayed over his chest and she pressed a searing kiss to his mouth as his lips parted on a gasp, her name a soft prayer on his tongue. He bucked against her, nearly unseating her as he writhed beneath her touch. She moaned, grinding herself down on his arousal, need flooding her entire body. Only the need for air had her breaking their kiss, and she sat back to see the evidence of her handiwork. Rumpelstiltskin looked desperate, wrecked beyond anything she'd ever seen, his hands grasping tightly against her hips.
"Belle … Belle, please …"
Her nails scraped over his flat male nipples and he whimpered, his back arching in pleasure, but she didn't stop there, continuing on over his ribs and the taut plane of his belly. "Shh, my darling husband. Just let me touch you," she purred, leaning over him to press hot open-mouthed kisses around his navel.
He cursed softly, his eyes widening as her teeth bit down gently on his hot flesh above the waistband of his breeches. "Are you trying to kill me?!"
She giggled, tugging on the soft leather with her teeth until the first button released with a muted pop. "You tease me until I feel my bones melt into a puddle whenever you please." She lifted her gaze to his, something dark and primal within the depths of her eyes. "Now it's my turn."
Another button popped free and she nuzzled her nose against the skin she'd revealed. His breath was heavy, coming in sharp pants, his hips bucking once more. She gently caressed his belly in soothing circles, trying to calm him. He'd never let her do this before and she felt a rush of power claim her. It was her touch sending him to such a mindless state of madness and it increased her own desire tenfold. She made quick work of the remaining buttons and pulled the confining leather from his hips, sliding his trousers and small clothes over his well-defined thighs and off him completely to join his boots on the floor.
A rosy blush climbed her neck to settle in her cheeks as she sat back to look at him, completely bare and vulnerable beneath her scorching gaze. She reached out her hand before hesitating and drawing back. "M-May I … um … may I touch you there, husband?"
His nostrils flared and his eyes widened with a panicked gleam. "Not if you want this evening to go any further."
Belle's narrow gaze returned to that one part of his anatomy she'd yet to see, biting her lip as she studied him. "Does it hurt?" she asked worriedly as he twitched beneath her gaze, his long, thick shaft red and straining, a bead of moisture at his tip.
Rumpelstiltskin groaned and shook his head. "Not in the way you're thinking, dearest," he admitted wryly.
She bit her lip in consternation, her hands idly rubbing over the tops of his thighs. "But I want to touch you," she whined in a petulant tone. "I've been waiting forever, Rum. Please?"
"Oh, Gods!" he squeaked. He gnashed his teeth as he nodded fervently. How could he deny her when she'd been so open and giving with her own body? Better yet, how was he to bear it?
Her cool, slim fingers wrapped around his cock and he cried out, nearly tossing her off his lap as he thrust into her hand. She immediately removed her hand and shot him a terrified look. "Did I hurt you?!"
"N-NO!" he keened. "No, love, it felt good … too good," he said in a more even tone as his eyes slammed shut and the breath hitched in his chest. Fire, white hot and blistering, coursed through his veins and he gripped her thighs with his long fingers, needing to ground himself to maintain his fragile control.
She relaxed, reaching out again to take him into her hand. She felt a little tingle of fear as she stroked him gently, her courage deserting her. How was he ever going to fit without rending her in two? He felt like velvet over steel, and a shiver of trepidation slithered along her spine at the thought of being impaled by him. She knew he'd never hurt her intentionally, but with her limited experience and knowledge, she was frightened.
Rumpelstiltskin paled as he watched her lower lip quiver. He sat up and wrapped his arms about her, pulling her against his chest and pressing a kiss to her temple. "What's wrong, my Belle? You're trembling."
She wouldn't meet his gaze, hiding her face against his throat. "What if we … you're so … what if we don't fit t-together?"
He bit his tongue – hard – to withhold the chuckle deep in his chest. "We will, dear heart. I promise." He slipped a finger beneath her chin and lifted her fearful gaze to his. "Trust me," he pleaded.
Belle sat back and whipped the gown over her head, leaving herself bare to his gaze. "I do trust you. I'm not so naive as to think losing my maidenhead isn't going to hurt."
He smiled warmly at her, his brave little wife. "I will not cause you undue pain, Belle. I want only to bring you pleasure."
She nodded and relaxed into his embrace as he drew her closer, putting her faith in him. Bride's jitters; that was all it was, she was certain. She focused on his hands as they gave her hips a light squeeze and moved up and over her sides. His thumbs gently teased the sensitive undersides of her breasts as he claimed her mouth in a tender kiss, his tongue seeking out every spot which brought her pleasure. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her fingers toying with the ends of his hair, pressing her breasts into his warm palms.
Her arms tightened about him as he laid her back against the bed and came to settle at her side, his turgid cock pressing into her hip as he kissed and nipped and suckled a fiery path of ardor over her throat and collarbones. She was enflamed even before his lips settled on her breasts, his mouth hot as he drew one taut peak between his lips.
He hissed as her fingers wound tightly in his hair as she held him to her, waves of pleasure rippling over him to settle at the base of his spine. His hand ghosted over her belly and came to rest between her thighs. He could feel her wetness and wished he could have a taste of her, but he knew she would not appreciate it at the moment. She was eager and impatient. He could tell with every touch, every moan from her sweet lips.
Belle lifted her hips, grinding into his hand. "Please! Please, Rum, touch me," she begged, her eyes dark and wild as she met his gaze.
Rumpelstiltskin stroked her gently, parting her folds and dipping inside. She thrashed beneath him, craving the friction he provided. She clenched around his finger as he slipped it deeply past the tight ring of muscle at her entrance, and keened long and low as his thumb circled her clit. His mouth worried her nipple as he thrust into her over and over, her inner walls clasping and quivering as he urged her closer to her peak. He realized the need for the suite they'd been given as she threw back her head in abandon and screamed her release. He smiled in satisfaction, thinking the occupants of the ballroom below could probably hear her.
He didn't give her a chance to let her fears resurface, moving to kneel between her parted legs and kissing a path along her inner thigh. He paused in his trek up her body, his tongue darting out to circle around her clit, stoking the fire which didn't want to be extinguished. More teasing brushes of his lips over her belly and breasts, her neck and the smooth curve of her jaw until he could claim her lips once more.
Belle whimpered against the corner of his mouth as she felt the low hum of desire begin to build again in her belly. "Rum …" she moaned, fighting off the urge to stiffen as she felt his cock press against her opening.
His fingers curled in the hair at her nape as he kissed her again, trying to soothe her as he entered her slowly. "Shh, my Belle. Just relax and let me in," he crooned, locking his gaze with hers.
Her nails digging into the corded muscles of his shoulder was the only sign of her lingering doubts, but she forced herself to relax, to trust him. "I love you, Rumpelstiltskin."
His hips snapped forward involuntarily at her declaration, her maidenhead giving way with his first thrust and allowing him to slide into her without further resistance. His heart broke to see the wince upon her lovely features. He peppered her face and neck with the gentlest of kisses as he held himself perfectly still to allow her time to adjust. "I'm so sorry, my love. I didn't –"
"I'm ok, Rumpel," she assured him, gently kneading the nape of his neck.
He searched her face. He wouldn't put it past her to put his needs above her own. "Do you want me to stop?" It would no doubt kill him, but he'd do it for his precious wife. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting her.
Belle arched a brow and shifted beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist and drawing him deeper within her heated core. "No. I just needed a moment." He groaned as she tightened her inner muscles reflexively and dug her heels into the backs of his thighs.
She moaned as he thrust tentatively, still afraid to cause her pain. Her fingers trailed over the small of his back, clasping him to her as she lifted her hips to meet him. He pressed his brow to hers, bracing himself on his forearms as he gained confidence, listening to her every sound, and paying rapt attention to the way she moved. Finally, together, they were able to find a rhythm which suited them, and Belle was able to feel herself climbing closer towards her peak.
His wife, his little goddess, his savior, chanted through his fevered mind as he thrust into her over and over. He'd never known such pleasure; such unadulterated bliss as being enveloped in her welcoming heat. He gasped as she writhed beneath him, her nails leaving deep scratches along his back as she convulsed around him and cried out his name, tipping over the edge into the abyss. His hips jerked erratically as her inner walls pulled at him and he buried his face against her throat as he gave up on his control and followed her into paradise, losing himself completely in her arms, in her love.
Belle held onto him, refusing to let go when he made to move to her side. She didn't want to lose the feeling of him buried so deeply within her, nor give up his panting breath on her neck or the sweetly whispered words of love against the shell of her ear. She sighed as he softened enough to slip out of her and rolled to his side. His hand smoothed over her hip and he pressed a kiss to her brow before he slid out of their bed and disappeared behind the dressing screen.
She didn't have long to wonder over his actions before he was back at her side with a warm wet cloth. "Are you alright, my love?" he asked worriedly as he cleaned the blood and their mingled fluids from her thighs.
She nodded sleepily and smiled, her heart warming over his tender care. "A bit sore. Nothing a bath wouldn't cure, I'm sure."
Rumpelstiltskin tossed the cloth atop their discarded clothes on the floor and settled at her side, pulling the duvet over them and wrapping her up in his arms to bring her against his chest. "Rest a bit and I will ring for one if it is your wish."
Belle pressed a lingering kiss to his throat, reveling in the shiver she felt flow through him. "Did I please you, my husband?"
"You always please me, Belle. Just a smile from your sweet lips is enough to bring me untold joy."
She squeezed him just a little tighter at his lovely words. "Good. Because I have a feeling I'll be grinning like a loon for days to come."
A/N: OMG! I'm so so so sorry it took me so long to finish this chapter. Please forgive me! I hope the chapter lived up to your expectations :D One more chapter and we're done, dearies! Can I just tell you how excited I am about that?! I really look forward to hearing what you think about the update! Thank you all so much for sticking with me!
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