"Come on, let's call it an early night," Belle tugs on his sleeves, making him stand up. He follows her obediently, still trying to process the afternoon's events.
She closes the bedroom door behind them and lets out a sigh of relief. It's been a difficult day and she is exhausted from all the anxiety and hopes and fighting. It hurts her, knowing that things didn't work out as planned but she doesn't want to dwell on that failure. They are together, that's what she has to focus on; he's probably more confused than she is. Perhaps it wasn't a complete irreversible failure; she could have measured the potion incorrectly, it may require time to work or he simply has to brew it himself. She can worry about all that concoction-business tomorrow.
Belle begins to unlace her bodice, pushing it down impatiently and stepping out of the puddle of skirts.
"What are you doing?" Rumpelstiltskin asks and her mouth curves into a most wicked smile at the way he attempts to be discreet about looking at her body when the girl remains only in her transparent petticoat.
"Getting ready for bed," she shrugs and lets the remaining fold of her garment slide down her legs. "Do you mind?" She crouches to pick them up, folding the dress over the back of the chair. Rumpelstiltskin sucks in a breath and she would be flattered but then it's not exactly her most alluring parts he's looking at.
"I hurt you," he whispers, his voice detached as if it was a mundane observation and Belle turns her arm to find an ugly, blackened bruise on it.
"It's nothing…"
"How can you say that? Don't you see what I am? How could you ever willingly choose to be with a monster?"
"Now stop it, Rumpelstiltskin," she says sternly or as rigorously as she can manage while being stark naked. "It's nothing that won't heal in a matter of days. I love you. Just accept it. Or do I need to cover the entire Castle with bottles of True Love's potion until it finally sinks in?" Belle climbs under the sheets, patting the space next to her invitingly. The man changes into his nightwear with a snap of his fingers and joins her, scattering to the farthest corner of the bed.
The girl sighs again and edges closer to him until she can feel the heat of his body but still not touch him. His eyes are closed and he looks pained; Rumpelstiltskin wets his lips as if he is about to speak but then changes his mind. She doesn't want him to brood in silence and curls up closer, closing her eyes when his hand absent-mindedly cradles her head.
"You're not sleeping," she accuses him after awhile, and he hums in agreement.
"Neither are you, dearie… Belle," he corrects himself quickly, remembering that she loathes that title.
"Oh, you know, I'd do everything to lure you to bed," she quips and the man chuckles half-heartedly as it is too close to the truth.
"Was I your first?" he cannot help wondering; it's like an itch he needs to scratch. It's probably the least important and the most inappropriate question to ask at the moment and it burns his tongue to even mention it but he absolutely must know.
"My first what?" It takes her a second to get the meaning. "Oh. Of course. Twice, in fact," she giggles. "You'll understand the irony once you remember," she promises and the silence wraps its thick cloak around them once more. Belle gently, as not to startle him, places a hand on his chest just over his heart, finding the rhythmic thuds calming.
"Rumpelstiltskin?" she whispers; his chest is rising and falling steadily but she knows he's awake and listening. "Why… why do you think the potion didn't work?"
He runs his fingers through her hair, coiling it around his index finger and releasing it for the locks to spring back to their usual curl.
"I frankly have no idea," the man says pensively, "It could have been prepared the wrong way – it's recommended that the maker alters the required ingredients depending on how vast the damage is. Perhaps, it didn't affect me because my magical potential is greater than the brewers. Or the potion's influence was minimized by whichever events preceding the original memory loss."
"Could you try to prepare the potion yourself?" Belle bites on her lip when he affirms because it's not the question she really wants to ask. She squirms a little summoning the courage to ask the next one. "But do you even want to? Remember, I mean."
A thousand doubts and protests flash though his mind but his lips form the answer before he lets them take over.
"Yes."
Because truly, what could be so terrible about remembering? She came back to him because she loves him, as surreal as it is; had she wanted to be free of him, she had a myriad of opportunities when he told (or screamed at) her to leave.
"Good."
Belle sighs contently and presses her face into his neck, making a shiver of unwanted excitement shoot down his back as her moist breath fans his skin. Although it still lurks in the back of his mind - the dark idea of her accepting his previous advances due to vulnerability winning over common sense - today it is different and neither of them can pretend it is a casual meaningless moment of weakness.
"What are you doing?" he asks when he feels the pressure of her parted lips on his throat.
She shifts on the bed, propping herself on her elbow and hovering over him. "Are we going there again?" Belle asks with a sigh. "I'm kissing you, if you must know," she explains and ducks down to flick her tongue at the hollow in the base of his throat. Rumpelstiltskin squirms because it both feels ticklish and disturbingly pleasant.
Suddenly, he's horrified. What if he can never be the man she fell in love with? What if he is just a string of disappointments and nothing changes when his memory returns? Does she compare him now with his previous self?
"I need to…" he makes an attempt to get up but Belle is faster and her hand nudges him back onto the mattress.
"You need to lay back," she chides, oblivious to the fact that the sheet slipped off her upper body as she moved. Although her nudity doesn't seem to bother her in the dim bedroom light, Rumpelstiltskin finds that it has quite an effect on him. He's feasting his eyes on the gentle slope of her shoulders and the soft curves of her breasts, topped with nipples in thefairest shade of pink. He swallows nervously, twisting the sheet in his fingers.
He's looked at her before but he hasn't truly seen her. Rumpelstiltskin wonders how she could ever choose to give herself to him willingly, how she can express so much warmth and affection after everything he's done.
"As I was saying," Belle continues, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and slowly pulling on the sheet to expose more of his modestly silk-clad body, "I am going to kiss you…" her lips plant a trail of kisses across his collarbones in the opening of his night shirt, "and, possibly lick you as well," her tongue follows the path of her lips and he groans at the sensation. "I intend to touch as much as I can too," Belle goes on as her nails scrape the skin of his belly teasingly through the silk.
The self-consciousness and shame of being so excited from the slightest touch only add to his arousal. She moves down his body unhurriedly, her lips covering every inch of the exposed skin – which is not much, damn the clothes. A jolt of aching pleasure of her teeth nipping on the skin near his nipple draws the most embarrassing moan from him. Belle raises her head and smiles at him and it appears her only goal from now on is to keep coaxing whimpers from him.
Belle licks and kisses and touches and his stomach quivers under her attention. Her fingers, lightly curling around his shaft, fill every cell of his body with insistent need and it breaks his impediment spell. Rumpelstiltskin pulls her upwards, his hand sliding down her smooth back and grabbing onto her rear, holding herflush against him as he kisses her hard. She grinds against him and he groans in appreciation, guiding her to thrust faster and hating every curved fibre of the fabric that prevents skin to skin contact where he wants it most. His left hand reaches lower, pressing a slender finger at her opening and groaning at the feel of already dampening flesh.
He doesn't want it to be over quickly and slowly runs his palms along her back, pressing a fingertip to each vertebrae. She's so fragile and so strong; he knows he doesn't deserve her but he will try his best.
"Come here," he asks huskily with his hands on her waist and guides the girl up and forward while sliding to the foot of the bed himself.
"What are you..?" the question is superfluous when she finds herself kneeling over his face.
Belle feels a surge of heat rush to her lower abdomen and she grips onto the headboard, closing her eyes and shaking with anticipation at the raw obscenity of what he's about to do. She ceases breathing when Rumpelstiltskin's hands cup her buttocks and he brings her closer to his face.
The first warm touch of his lips make her jerk with surprise but he's holding her firmly in place. Belle arches her back, keening when his hot tongue traces the shape of her labia. He is so soft and gentle, slowly exploring her with his mouth as she quivers on top of him, digging her nails in the polished wood for support as her legs refuse to cooperate.
Rumpelstiltskin groans when he swipes his tongue between her folds, really tasting her for the first time. She's salty-sweet, musky and earthy and he knows he's addicted to her taste. He laps at her hungrily, drawing more moisture as she begins to rock back and forth slightly and the delicious noises she makes shoot through his body straight to his groin. Rumpelstiltskin doesn't know who's the one receiving the pleasure here; he doesn't suppress the grunts of enjoyment and wicked feral glee he feels with her thighs squeezing his head and his face covered in her juices.
His lips close around her clit as he begins to suck lightly; he wants her to cum on his tongue, hot and wet and screaming in ecstasy. Rumpelstiltskin has to reach down and squeeze the base of his cock hard to distract himself, because he is so wound up he can hold back only for so long. Her clitoris swells and lightly throbs under the ministration and her body tenses up, her breath hitched and the small of her back covered in perspiration. Her mouth forms a silent O in wonder as the whirl of effortless pleasure swipes through her. Even when her body spasms, she is mindful of his comfort, which is a shame; if he had to go, he'd gladly do it with his head buried between her thighs.
"Again?" he drawls, his voice gruff. Although Belle shakes her head in refusal, her body has a mind of its own and arches into the caress when he kisses from the inside of her silky thigh up to her core.
With her initial hunger sated, Rumpelstiltskin takes time to tease her, trying to press his tongue past the tight ring of muscles at her opening and circling her clit unhurriedly.
Belle is hoarse by the time she screams with the second orgasm rocking her body and collapses on the bed next to him positively boneless. Rumpelstiltskin rips his night shirtoff, tossing it onto the floor. He wipes his face, using the collected juices as lubricant for roughly stroking his cock. He knows he won't last but he desperately wants to be inside her even for a brief moment.
Moving to the foot of the bed and tucking his legs under himself, the man reaches for Belle's ankles, raising them to kiss them in turn before hooking her right leg over his shoulder. He aligns their bodies and sinks into her tight heat. Belle's fingers dig into his upper arms and he moves carefully; the position allows him to slide deep, deeper than he has ever been.
She is positively sinful, sprawled under him with flushed cheeks and rumpled hair, and the pleasure is nearly unbearable. All too soon he can feel his muscles tighten and he cums, thick and deep inside her.
They lay side to side not quite touching, recovering and allowing their bodies to cool down. They could probably use a good wash but then Belle reaches out for his hand and he's perfectly content to be where he is, holding her small palm and drawing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand.