A/N: Some of Adam's angst is coming from an assumption that Agathe is St Agatha. It's possibly an erroneous assumption, but one that makes sense to me, given how the Prince was depicted at the beginning of the movie. That makes his backstory a little darker. Next chapter has sexy bedtime goodness.
Adam could not help but notice that Belle seemed distracted through breakfast, speaking little and eating less. She blushed very prettily when Maurice asked her how she slept, and he hoped her papa did not notice that little detail. How lovely she looked this morning, he mused.
It was some time later that she found him in the library. He had been there looking for her.
"I've been all over the castle looking for you," she said softly as she came up behind him, slipping her slender arms about his waist. He moaned softly at the delicious feel of slim, soft form against his. He didn't think he would ever tire of it. Not when she was round with his child. Not when they were very old with grey heads. She felt different to him now. The same, but different. His body reacted to her, hardening at her softness. He turned to face her and, cupping her chin in his hands, kissed her pink lips.
"I've been all over the library looking for you, my love," he answered. "You were distracted at breakfast. Are you alright?" Belle threw her arms around his neck.
"Marry me!" She said! Adam could not help but laugh. He had already asked and she had already said yes.
"I believe that is the plan, my dear! One month from Sunday if I am not mistaken." Belle shook her head.
"No," she smiled up at him charmingly and his heart was utterly won again. "Marry me today! Marry me now! Let's go to the village! Right now! Today! Let us have Pere Robert marry us in secret now! And I will spend tonight with you and ever night with you." She kissed him then. "I don't want to wait anymore!" Adam pulled back with a frown, lifting her arms off his neck.
"Is this about last night?" he asked. "Or is this about this morning?" Belle sighed in frustration.
"You won't touch me like a woman," she spoke truthfully, blushing as she looked away. She turned then and met his gaze squarely, deliberately, stubbornly and evenly. Her voice was determined and firm and bold and everything he loved about her. "Or rather, you do, but not in all of the ways I want to be touched. I want you to, you know." She paused again, and he let her words sink in. "I want you to touch me. Like that, I mean. Like a woman. I've never been held the way you hold me. I've never been kissed the way you kiss me. I want it all. Everything a man does with a woman he loves. I want you to educate me."
Belle moved closer to him and he shied away. He wondered if she knew what she was asking of him. Kisses were one thing, but this… he'd done this, before. He felt slightly sick, panicked at the thought of sullying her like that. Of using her like that. Of taking his own pleasure on her like that.
"Belle," he spoke softly.
"I want you, Adam," she said again. "And if it's my reputation you're afraid of, well, let's put that behind us right now. Let us go to the Monseigneur and have done with it. Marry me today and bed me tonight." She placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him, so precious and hopeful. Delightful and charming and willing and soft and feminine and bold. And in that moment, Adam wanted to run. He wanted to run far and hide away. He took her hands in his and swallowed, grasping for words.
"Oh Belle," he said again. "I wish it were that simple."
"Isn't it?" she asked. Was it, he wondered.
"Is it?" he asked her. "You know," he said slowly. "I was not a good man. Before, I mean. I used women terribly. I don't like to think of it. You are pure to me. You are all that is sweet and good in my world. When I am with you, I feel…" he paused, seeking the right words, not wanting to shock her with his bluntness. "I feel like a man! I feel like a man ought to feel with a woman he loves."
"And I would have it so!" she declared. "Are you frightened? Of hurting me, I mean?"
"That's part of it," he said honestly. "But not just physically. Emotionally, too. And spiritually. You are all that is dear and good and sweet to me. You are my saviour in so many ways, you know." He stroked her face softly and hoped she could understand. "It's not about marriage. Half the village probably assumes you share my bed. Good god, your own father probably assumes you share my bed. What is marriage but a formality to say that you are mine and I am yours and our children are my heirs? What is it but a legality to make all I have yours by the law?" He felt a great lump rise in his throat and he forced it back with a deep and heavy breath. "Dear Belle," He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against hers.
"I was not a good man, Belle." He held her tighter, then, selfishly willing her strength into himself. He did not deserve her. "I was not a good man."
He buried his face in her neck and wept.