Chapter 14: Dungeons

Author's Note: It's been a while since I wrote a wonderful smut scene between Jennifer and Rumplestiltskin so I think you all will be quite pleased. XD Review or not, it's completely up to you, Dearies.

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Rumplestiltskin had been correct where 'interference' had been concerned. In the days that followed after Regina's True Love had been murdered, she was to marry this King Leopold; unhappy, Regina had summoned Rumplestiltskin. Naturally, before leaving, Rumplestiltskin did as he always have done before he left. He searched for Jennifer before his departure and when he didn't find her in the bedroom for a small cat nap, he smiled, disappearing from the bedroom in a cloud of his usual red smoke, and appearing under the castle in the dungeons.

Over the past month (between the time she had nearly gone to kill Cora and the thirty days that passed), Jennifer had found a peculiar hobby. She had taken to keeping prisoners for an extended period of time to use their circulatory system as a bit of a pump for production instead of draining them completely and tossing the body. While Jennifer's strategy had worked for her,, this only meant a fate worse than death for the prisoners. Rumplestiltskin even found it barbaric but he had told her to find her pound of flesh somewhere else. This just happened to be it.

When he arrived in the dungeon, he only had to follow the agonizing screams of a man. (She chose men over women, he noticed, but every now and then, she'd have a beautiful woman entrapped in metal shackles, although even then she treated the women a lot better than the male benefactors). Hearing one in particular cry out "Please, just kill me!" Rumplestiltskin hummed, strolling towards the screaming, which died down after he heard a loud punch.

He stopped in front of one of the dungeon rooms, and tapped the door with two knuckles, twice.

"Come!" He heard her call out to him.

He opened the door to see a white male shackled by his wrists to the wall, his body limped over in exhaustion. Jagged wounds made by a knife (or a dagger-like fingernail of a vampire) ran all down his body, blood dripping slowly onto the concrete floor beneath him. His eyes were barely open, both black and blue from one punch too many. His mouth was cut up, and Rumplestiltskin glanced to see Jennifer take off her gloves and exposing the reason for the male's unpleasant bruising.

She had worn a number of rings on all fingers on both hands, including her wedding ring. Jennifer gave the prisoner one more beat down—one hard kick into his stomach—and the prisoner coughed, and could only wait for the pain to subside. Most likely, it remained for the cracking sound Rumplestiltskin heard were the ribs breaking. Rumplestiltskin watched Jennifer step away, and he was able to admire the full view.

Jennifer wore black, skin-tight leather pants with black boots that laced up to her knees. Her top was a dark crimson red, laced up the front and pulled in tight around the middle so her bosom appeared a lot more tempting to the touch than normal. Her hair was pulled back in a long pony tail with a braid following throughout, a single blood diamond barrette kept several stubborn strands from falling into her face but a few had escaped and made her look like a beautiful, yet distressed, dominatrix. Rumplestiltskin cleared his throat to accentuate his presence, although he was more than certain Jennifer had heard him coming.

Her hearing had only become more acute over the years, as did her sense of smell and sight. Rumplestiltskin had only started noticing a few months ago, but he was certain—when he considered all those decades they had been together—that Jennifer's vampirism might have been feeding off his power as the Dark One. It wouldn't have surprised him, nor would it be insulting. For he also considered just how vibrant and energetic she made him feel by simply being around her.

A vampire bride and the Dark One feeding off one another, and yet, only further empowering. It sounded like a vicious love cycle between two parasitic hosts, but none the less, it seemed to work perfectly.

"Good evening, Darling," Jennifer greeted, smiling brightly—a curious contrast to the devil smile that had twisted her lips not a second ago when she cracked the few ribs of the male prisoner, who now seemed passed out from pain...or maybe he was dead.

Rumplestiltskin stopped her from kissing him and she looked at him curiously.

"You've got a little something there..." Rumplestiltskin told her, touching his own chin.

Jennifer wiped her chin with the back of her hand, glancing down and seeing blood.

"Yours or his?" asked Rumplestiltskin.

"Mine," Jennifer returned. "The bastard packs a little more punch that I estimated."

"How long has he been here?" asked Rumplestiltskin, looking past her at the man, who was now stirring from what might have been a paradise until he woke up and realized where he was.

"Five days." Jennifer informed.

"A lot longer than most," Rumplestiltskin noted..

Jennifer nodded, glancing back at the prisoner before turning back to him.

"Are you going somewhere?" she asked.

Rumplestiltskin followed her into the room completely as she paced back to put on her thin black gloves, which hid the rings. Rumplestiltskin smiled when she hopped onto the table, which he noticed was aligned with an assortment of torture weapons from nine-tail whips, hot pokers and daggers to something as simple as salt. Rumplestiltskin picked up a hot poker curiously, before setting it aside as he stood between Jennifer's legs.

"Regina apparently has her mother's book," Rumplestiltskin told Jennifer lightly. "I keep hearing my name being called so—as it were," he made his little movements, as always gesticulating dramatically with his hands, "duty calls."

Rumplestiltskin caressed the fine bones along the bottom of her jaw with both hands, placing a kiss lightly on her cheek; she turned her head so his mouth pushed, instead, against hers. That usual part that was always and would be forever sexually magnetized to her signaled strongly for him to remain with his bride, to stay with her and finish what Jennifer was apparently trying to start. How could he have forgotten—Jennifer's sadistic streak had always brought out the sexiest (however, most twisted) side of her nature, a frisky little demon that always got what she wanted with him. The physical attraction they had between one another was almost more powerful than he could stand.

Jennifer's hands snaked along his ribs, her fingertips placing just enough pressure to bade his body a little longer before he had to leave. As they moved down to the waist line of his leather pants, Jennifer engaged him in a stronger and deeper kiss, licking his upper lip, inviting him, challenging him. When he reciprocated just as passionately, her lips opened for his invitation, and he deepened the kiss, initiating a battle of tongues behind her lips. Jennifer moaned, the sound seemed to vibrate his entire being—gods, how could she have this much control over him, even after all these years!

"Jennifer..." Rumplestiltskin mumbled.

"Hmm..." She returned softly; her left hand kept a tight hold on his tunic, pulling him to her and her right slid between his legs, touching him and she smirked when she felt how hard he was. She pulled him even closer; he almost lost his balance, catching himself with his palms against the table on either side of her legs.

"Jennifer."

"Duty calls, indeed," Jennifer purred. "No one demands your attention but me, Dark One."

Rumplestiltskin sighed with both pleasure and frustration as she felt her hand stroke him. Rumplestiltskin made a gesture with his hand face down and slid it across the air and Jennifer noticed that her prisoner that had been passed out and hanging by his shackles was gone.

"Where the fuck did you put him?" Jennifer questioned, slightly irate.

"In another room," Rumplestiltskin growled, although his 'irate' tone was now out of sexual frustration. And the reason for his 'poofing' of the prisoner out of the dungeon became quite clear as the torture devices suddenly were magically thrown off the table in a sweeping gesture. Jennifer looked at the fallen objects, impressed, then gasped as she, too, was shoved magically although now she was on her back in the middle of the table, looking up at the ceiling.

She glanced straight ahead, satisfied, to see Rumplestiltskin undressing rather quickly. In turn, Jennifer pulled off her pants in equal speed and eagerness. She got as far as pulling off her knickers and about to unlace the bust when a half-clothed Rumplestiltskin grabbed her legs and yanked her towards him; she laughed a little out of shock. Jennifer smirked when she saw just how disheveled he appeared; tunic half-undone, his pants down far enough where the true nature of his urgency was exposed.

"Ooh," Jennifer teased, "I thought duty called."

"Jennifer, you're lucky I have somewhere to be." Rumplestiltskin uttered, his voice was husky; his tone, almost dangerous.

"Oh, and why is that?" Jennifer breathed, although her teasing could only last for so long; she was becoming just as impatient and eager as he appeared to be.

He pulled her body to him, separating her legs roughly with his hands.

"Because what I want to do to you would feel like torture," Rumplestiltskin replied.

Jennifer bit her lower lip. His hand felt her between her legs, the warmth of her sex radiating heat, giving all the signals that she wanted him just as desperately. Rumplestiltskin leaned his body over hers and to prove a point that he was in control, he took her wrists and roughly pinned them above her head.

From her mouth, Jennifer exhaled the purr made from a large predatory animal, and the sound drove Rumplestiltskin mad. Kissing her hard, he thrusted himself inside her—all the way down to the hilt; she cried out in only pleasure, not a single ounce of pain as her body readily and eagerly swallowed him without a single twitch of resistance. At that moment, the muscles between her legs slightly seized, and her sex contracted as he moved out of her body only to thrust into her again just as deep, just as rough.

This wouldn't take long, they both knew. As desperate and eager as they were for their peak, for the release, this quickie would earn the name. In minutes, Jennifer was calling his name, her eyes flickering from their doey blue to the bright yellow that always shown when she was feeling intense emotions and as intense as her body was reacting to his, Rumplestiltskin had only expected it. As her lips parted in ecstacy and painful pleasure, Rumplestiltskin could see her fangs; he smirked at the way she was responding to him. So sensitive, her body became—every touch, every motion, every little twist or thrust he placed upon her resounded so beautifully.

She was a vocal one, never holding back, and yet, never giving up as she held out for that orgasm that would would bring her on the brink of screaming for release, screaming the Dark One's name, and pleading for him to bring her to the edge, so she could descend into the powerful orgasm that would release her from the clenching held tightly in her abdomen and the throbbing in her clit. Until he brought her over the peak, the vampire was relentless.

Her nails drew blood down his arms and even along the back of his neck; her hips pushed against him; Jennifer lifted a leg onto his shoulder, her flexibility never ceasing to amaze him. He no longer stifled his vocal release of moans, to which Jennifer became more drawn and aroused.

Rumplestiltskin knew it would only take a few more thrusts—hard, rough, holding-nothing-back thrusts—to push her where she wanted to be and giving her that leeway, Jennifer's palms smacked onto the hard surface of the table, her fingernails digging, leaving deep, jagged dents in the wood. Jennifer's eyes rolled in the back of her head, her mouth opening unawares as she was lost in the swirling vortex of a powerful release. As she was enjoying hers, Rumplestiltskin took relief from his, burrowing deep inside of Jennifer.

As the electrical throbbing finally subsided allowing both to breathe normally—although quickly—Jennifer felt a small orgasm when he pulled out of her, watching him stand on his feet, although she pretended not to see him stumble a little; proudly, he leaned against the table, panting. Jennifer's body still shook from the power of her release, and she carefully slid off the table, leaning against the table as well.

She watched him dress, smoothing out his tunic, and smirked when he sighed with relief.

"I've told you many times, Rumples," Jennifer mused, finally managing to catch her breath: "Violence makes me frisky. You come down to the dungeons—you should know what to expect."

Rumplestiltskin smiled, and bowed formally, saying, "Noted, Milady."

Jennifer bowed her head to him, smirking saying, "I hope you don't get into too much trouble for being late in appearance."

"I don't 'get into trouble', Sunshine," Rumplestiltskin told her, smirking as she dressed back into her dominatrix uniform. He stroked her cheek with a finger, uttering darkly, "I bring the trouble with me."

"That, you do." Jennifer returned. To prove a point, she kissed the palm of his hand and he simply watched her—the darkness of his eyes reflecting the insatiable lust he had for her...and returning once more.

"You're becoming a vice, Jennifer," Rumplestiltskin told her.

"I'm an urge of yours that can't ever be cured, Dark One." She whispered, her voice laced with temptation as she said his title. "But you are mine as well. And you're just going to have to continue living with that...forever."

"In this land..." Rumplestiltskin mused.

"And the next." Jennifer uttered. "And the one after that, and the one after that, and the one after that..."

"All right, that's enough. I have to leave." Rumplestiltskin told her, chuckling at her humor. "Will you be here when I get back?"

"Of course." Jennifer responded, smiling beautifully at him.

She kissed him on the cheek.

"I love you, Rumple."

"And I, you, Jennifer."

"Give my best to Regina," Jennifer returned.

"As you wish."

With that, he made a gentleman's bow to her, and she curtsied to him. As he disappeared in a cloud of smoke, another appeared and it was the prisoner back in his shackles. Luckily, for her, he had come back from his slighted nap. Seeing her, he began to scream again.