Author's note: Song of Solomon ch2v3 "I sat down under his shadow, whom I desired: and his fruit was sweet to my palate." I am quoting from the latin vulgate, as that seems a likely translation for a highly educated nobleman to have in his library in the mid-17th century. He probably owned a French bible, too, but Latin makes it sound like Belle is casting devious spells.

Belle laid with her head on Adam's chest for a time in the still darkness, tracing circles over his chest in the moonlight. In the two weeks since she had told him of her need for his touch, he had obliged her, but only to her own pleasure – never to his. She knew why, at least to some extent. It left her feeling frustrated with him.

"Sub umbra illius quam desideraveram sedi et fructus eius dulcis gutturi meo."

"Are you casting spells?" Adam asked her, looking down at her as she whispered the words softly.

"No," she laughed. "I am surprised you do not recognize that one. It is from your own bible in your library, after all."

"Ah," he said, understanding in his voice. "That is why I do not recognize it. I haven't read it in many years."

"J`ai désiré m`asseoir à son ombre, et son fruit est doux à mon palais," Belle continued.

"Mmmm," replied Adam softly and playfully. "I like this Bible of yours. Tell me more about this fruit."

"You have done a thing to me, and told me it something a woman does for a man," Belle began to explain, letting her fingers circle lower, tracing the dip of her lover's navel and the slope of his hipbone. She could feel his jutting hardness, but delicately avoided it for now, knowing he would stop her if she strayed too close. "I would like to do it for you." Belle could feel Adam's breath quicken, even as his body stilled. She gripped him gently, then, before he could pull away, softly, lightly, and leaned over to kiss his lips. She met his eyes with what she desperately hoped was a seductive and alluring gaze.

Adam shook his head at her slightly and placed one hand on her wrist. She covered his lips with one finger before he could speak.

"I know why you do it. At least a little of why you do it. Don't make me your penance, Adam! We cannot be equals if I am your penance. I want to be your lover, not your angel or your saviour. A woman does not like to be a man's penance! You've loved me very thoroughly and left me extremely satisfied. Would you let me? Please?"

Adam groaned in what sounded like agony.

"Is that a yes?" she teased, flicking his bottom lip with her fingernail, even as she stroked his hard length with her other hand.

"You'll be the death of me, love. I'm trying so very hard to be good." Adam closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Belle's waist, flipping her under him. His long hair flowed around him, ticking her jaw. It was intoxicating, but she would not let herself be distracted.

"I don't want you to be good," she whispered. "Be wild for me. Let me taste you like you have tasted me. Let me do this for you!" Adam lay still, and Belle watched as he wrestled with himself. He spoke, finally, gasping even as he did, as she continued to stroke the length of him with soft, smooth motions.

"It is how I took my pleasure on whores, Belle." He moaned softly again as she continued to torment him, licking and kissing along his neck and jawline. "You are not a whore. You are," he gasped again, as she teased the tip of him with her fingers.

"I'm what?" she questioned teasingly.

"Precious," he moaned.

"And?" she prompted.

"Good." She continued to use her hands, and could sense that she was winning the battle over Adam's self-control. It felt tantalizing and divine. She could feel his soft huffs of breath against her neck, could feel the tremors in his muscles as she ran her fingers up and down the length of him, imagining what a woman's most intimate place must feel like and trying to mimic the sensation.

"What else am I?" she husked, her voice unexpectedly low and throaty to her own ears, yet sensing his need to still somehow make this about her.

"You're kind and sweet and," Adam paused and shuddered as Belle lifted one hand to her mouth. It occurred to her that if she was going to mimic such intimacies with her hands, some moisture might aid the illusion. She licked a long path along her palm. "Angels and demons, so beautiful," Adam cried as she returned her hand to its work.

"And you are my beast, and I would have my wild beast return to me, love. Not this tame substitute you have given me. I would have you unleash yourself upon me. Be wild with me. Don't be a prince, but be my lover instead. Make me safe in your shadow and whole in your arms. Join me in the heights of heaven. Don't leave me there alone."

"Unless you want a mess in the sheets, you need to stop, love!" Adam cried in torment, pulling her hands off him. A fierce, carnal look of possession filled his eyes as he held her wrists down, pinning her down, their breaths coming in sharp ragged peaks. Deep satisfaction welled up inside Belle. She had done this. She had brought him to this edge. It was the work of her own hands, and with a featherlight touch, she knew she could push him over it. She felt a deep and delicious thrill race through her, a carnal cry of possession that rang through her body as she gazed up at him.

He was hers. He was hers and she was his.

"I can pleasure you without being a whore," she breathed softly. "And I very, very much do not wish to stop right now."

Adam whimpered, even as he collapsed, and in that moment, Belle knew she had won.

"Say yes," she whispered. "I won't presume, just as you never presume. Say yes and I will finish or no and I will stop."

"Yes." The single word ripped from Adam's throat in the familiar deep growl that made liquid fire erupt deep inside Belle. Belle pushed him onto his back as she set to work. It was an entirely unfamiliar task, and she had only the familiarity of what he'd done to her to base her assumptions on.

"Help me," she breathed. "Teach me." He took her hand in his and guided her then, and the growl that erupted from him as she took him into her mouth was positively feral. It was very short work for him to find his pleasure in her like this. When he neared the end, he removed himself, spilling himself into his own hand so he could wash it away in the washbasin.

He positively leapt on her as she waited for him in their bed, gathering her into his arms and kissing her ferociously. Belle fell back, giggling.

"Did you enjoy that?" she asked, knowing full well he did. He nipped at her lips in response.

"I shall bring you to such delicious heights of heaven, woman, you shall see the stars!" he growled, nuzzling and nipping her neck. Belle thrilled to the sound of his voice, husky and raw with pleasure, so unlike her prince of the last few weeks. This was her beast, unreserved and unrefined. Refined was for the ballroom. Here she wanted his heart, raw and passionate. And he gave it to her.

Perhaps there was hope after all.