A Bedtime Story
My Rumbelle Secret Santa for @99goosebumps
Summary: Belle feels an intense eroticism to the sound of Mr. Gold's voice. When he becomes the new storyteller for the Storybrooke library, the prim and proper etiquette of the librarian is tested as his sultry voice fills her with desire.
Prompt: Narratophilia, library, exhibition/voyerism, lingerie
A03 link: A Bedtime Story - notalwayslate - Once Upon a Time (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
Ever since she was a young girl, Belle has been fascinated by stories. The Storybrooke library had become her second home, a cathedral of silence where she could lose herself among the endless racks of books. The year she graduated college; two events drastically changed her life. The first was being appointed the head librarian of her childhood sanctuary, and the second was falling in love with Mr. Gold.
She can still recall the day they went public, walking into Granny’s diner hand in hand. The room usually boisterous, maintaining at least two conversations at a time, went completely silent.
He became a frequent patron of the library, spending his evenings leaning against the circulation desk, in his crisp suit and tie, with his eyes focused squarely on her. At first the other patrons of the library shot hateful glances towards his presence, their eyes burning hot as coal, but with every passing month the embers whittled to a tolerant aversion.
She pushes the empty book cart back to the cataloging station, passing the golden pools of illumination that spills from the small lamps perched along the library tables. She loves this time of night, an hour or so before closing, where the library houses only a scarce few faces that glow softly in the reading light. The familiar aroma of an exorbitantly rich cologne shimmers the air, and she knows without having to turn around, that her boyfriend of seven months, Rumford Gold, has arrived.
She turns, their eyes locking immediately, as he bows his head in acknowledgment. They have agreed to try and keep things discreet and proper when others are around them, especially at work, but behind closed doors they cannot keep their hands off each other. He lavishes her with affection and tells her repeatedly how much he loves her, and she in turn loves him completely and utterly.
She can feel the weight of his stare, as she pushes the empty cart against the back wall. A tempting idea dawns on her, as she makes her way to her office, reaching for her silenced cell phone sitting on the desk. Her intent of a naughty text message to her lover is diverted, as a text notification from Ms. Potts lights up her locked screen. Hastily she unlocks her phone, tapping the screen to open the paragraph long text.
She tries to stay focused as panic floods her nervous system. The last sentence of Ms. Potts’ resignation text starts to blur, as tears fill her eyes. This was bad. Ms. Potts, the library’s beloved storyteller, the woman who could weave magic with her voice and hold a room full of children spellbound, just quit the night before the library’s annual weeklong children’s reading event. Stumbling out of the office, she soon finds her footing, as Rumford grabs her arms to steady her. His eyes frantically sweep over her before asking sharply, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
The words pour in a jumbled rush, of the unexpected resignation, the impending children’s reading event, and her despair to find a replacement at the last minute. He listens intently, but she can see the tension melting from his shoulders upon learning that she is physically okay.
“Where am I going to find someone who’s available all week, and willing to do it for free?” she asks miserably, her eyes darting around her beloved library. She could just picture all the disappointed children and angry parents’ tomorrow morning, which inevitably would lead back to the ears of Mayor Mills, who was always looking for any excuse to scrutinize the library, due to her own hostile working relationship with Mr. Gold.
And then, it hit her. There was only one person that she knows whose voice could captivate an audience for hours. Gazing up she asks her boyfriend with bluest puppy dog eyes she can muster, “Maybe you could do it Rumple?”
He stares blankly at her for just a moment, before scoffing. “Are you mad sweetheart? Half this town thinks I hunt children for their pelts!”
“No, that rumor died months ago,” Leroy interjects, causing both of their heads to swivel to find his gruffy short body leaning against the circulation desk with his head propped up in his hands, clearly eavesdropping. “Now the town mostly gossips about whether you’re blackmailing or paying Ms. French to date you.”
“How dare you…” Rumple gnarls his teeth, taking a step towards the buffoon as Belle places her hand on his chest, halting him in place. She can feel his body vibrating under her touch. His cold unwavering gaze is still fixed upon Leroy, as Belle spots his hand creeping towards the return bin, his fingers grasping for a book, which would no doubt be hurled at Leroy’s head.
“Don’t you dare,” she scolds giving his arm a warning squeeze, and is relieved when he lets out a faint grunt, as his hand releases the book.
“I would help you out sister, but tomorrow I got to fix the plumbing at the convent. The pipes are clogged again.” Leroy states, stretching his arms over his head.
“Yes, well that’s good,” Gold grits out with clenched teeth, “since everyone knows mother superior is full of sh…”
“Well thank you for the thought, Leroy” Belle interjects before her boyfriend could finish the insult.
“But if you do need someone, I could talk to Gaston,” Leroy says with a smile. “I just saw him last night at the Rabbit Hole, and he was mentioning wanting to spend more time at the library.”
The book was already hurling through the air before she could even get a word out, but luckily for Leroy he was able to dodge it at the last moment. She casts a glance at Gold, his eyes are pure black from blown out pupils, and his face stained a fuming red.
“If you ask that vainglorious oaf of an ass to come anywhere near this library, I promise I will raise you and your brother’s rent tenfold.”
His tone is as cold as a glacier, and Belle can see the few remaining patrons packing up their belongings for a quick exit. His jealousy fuse has been lit, and she knows of only one way to defuse it.
Reaching for his lapels she pulls his lips in for a kiss. She greedily sucks on his lower lip before biting it drawing a small lustful whimper from his mouth. She lifts her hand, waving for Leroy to make a hasty exit while she still has him distracted. His tongue plunges deep into her mouth, as her head becomes lightheaded with desire, as his dominating tongue assures them both that she belongs to him. She pulls back, breaking their kiss, as his own lips trail after her not wanting it to end. Opening her eyes, she finds his burning directly into hers with a mixture of love and benevolence.
“What time do you need me here tomorrow, Sweetheart?” he asks huskily.
“11:00am,” she replies with a soft smile.
X
He shows up bright and early the next morning, helping her set up the small colorful chairs into a half circle. She can see the uneasiness in his eyes, as he adjusts his tie for the hundredth time. She had told him the night before, after the library closed and they were alone, that he really did not need to do this if it made him uncomfortable. She could ask one of the children’s parents, or even try to do it herself, if the library wasn’t too busy, but he insisted that he would at least try to help her, before the town folk chased him away from the children with pitchforks and fire.
She knows he is only doing this to make her happy. It still amazes her that she was able to breach the walls he had built around his heart, but once she did, she had his unwavering love and devotion.
Worried whispers buzz through the air as the children and parents file in to see Mr. Gold with a tight-lipped smile standing at the children’s corner of the library. To settle the looks of trepidation, Belle put on a warm smile, announcing that Mr. Gold has audaciously volunteered to be the new storyteller for the event. As the children grew closer to taking their seats, she made her way back to the circulation desk, trailed by a line of parents.
Their concerns quickly turn to gossip as she explains that Ms. Potts had unexpectedly quit the night before.
“I heard she was on that fairytales dating website and met someone,” one mother interjects, before another pipes in, “Well I was told she was having money problems.”
Leaving the gossipy occupied parents, Belle makes her way to the bookstacks near the children’s corner. Pushing aside the books, her eyes land upon her boyfriend sitting in the roomy chair in front of the children.
She is amazed at how he reads with such gusto, giving the characters different voices, and adroitly changing the infliction of his voice to indicate moods and atmospheres. He is natural, and the children before him are a captivated audience.
She cannot help but admire the way he holds the storybook—his fingers delicately tracing the spine, as if savoring every word that flows before him. The deep, rich timbre of his voice resonates in her ears causing a delicious shiver down her spine. She can feel herself getting wet, and leaning her forehead against the wooden shelf, she tries to cool her growing desire. An ache builds between her legs, as she squirms trying to relieve the pressure, but knows only her fingers can relieve it. Visions of her crawling on her knees and sucking him off while he reads aloud tease her brain as her throbbing intensifies.
“I’d like to check out please.” The soft voice of a patron standing at the end of the aisle jerks back her wanton hands, as she smiles and nods, hastily ushering the patron to the checkout counter.
X
Belle wanders through the stacks of the public library, her fingertips brushing against the spines of the well-loved books. This place has always been a sanctuary for her, a place where the outside world fades away and the delicate scent of old pages fill her lungs, but for the last four days it has been nothing but a torture chamber of primal unsated longing.
She has always been attracted to the rich and velvety depth of Rumple’s accent, which washes over her like a warm tide every time they are together. But she now knows after the last few days that his reading voice sweeps through her body like a raging sexual current. Every word he mutters stirs ripples of desire, which break the surface of her skin, and burst into tiny fragments of salacious heat.
She is wearing her best armor, a light blue blouse, paired with a long gray skirt, and sensible black kitten heels on her feet. Ditched is the lingerie that Rumple has bought for her over the months, replaced with a white pair of granny panties with little red roses over them. She has a sliver of hope that if she wears the attire of a demure proper librarian, she will trick her body into believing it. But alas with a new day the tendrils of his words as he reads to the children penetrate her librarian chic barrier leaving her once again with a pining ache in the pit of her belly, and slickness between her thighs.
She feels a heavy weight of shame and guilt settle on her small frame. What was wrong with her? Her chest tightens as she wonders what he would think of her if he knew of her kink. Here he is, reading to children, and she was a horny deviant mess with no self-control. Her worry and unyielding guilt tugs at her heart, manifesting in shorter smiles and fewer words to her beloved.
She just had to get passed this week of children’s events, quell her shameful secret kink, and then things could go back to normal with Rumple.
She’s reaching to shelve a large Roman history volume on a higher shelf, when a familiar hand, with a large seer stone ring, comes around her to help push the book into its place. She can feel his hot breath on the back of her neck.
“What’s wrong?” he questions bringing his forehead to rest against the back of her head. Her heart breaks at the sound of worry in his tone.
“Nothing,” she lies trying to force cheerfulness into her weak thin voice.
Letting out a small sigh, he lets his hand slide down from the book to her hip, gently guiding her to turn around. She is not surprised to find his face pale, trepidation, and concern afloat in his liquid brown eyes.
He repeats again, “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You’ve been acting distant the last few days. Did…” he stutters trying to find his courage. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” she shakes her head her heart catching at the vulnerability in his tone. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” She grabs his hand, pulling him towards her office where they can escape from the prying eyes of the library. She knows him and knows the dark places his mind can go if she leaves him to his own self-doubt.
Once in her office, he stands rigidly before her, as if he is preparing himself for a firing squad. She cannot allow him another moment of worry. Tilting her head back, she lets out a calming breath. Do the brave thing, she thinks to herself.
“It your voice.”
He watches her for a stretched moment, before his head cocks to the side, his eyebrow arches. “Go on.”
The dam of her pent-up guilt and embarrassment burst forth, as every deviant sexual thought and desire that had crossed her mind that week cascades out. She explains how hearing the man she loves reading stories in the library is a sexual trifecta that makes her toes curl and panties wet.
A wicked smirk falls upon his lips, as he steps forward his hands grasping firmly around her waist pulling her flush against him. Judging by the solid bulge that she pokes against her stomach, she discerns that he finds no distaste in her kinky confession. His mouth tickles her right ear, as he purrs. “Never be embarrassed sweetheart. I have fantasies anywhere and everywhere about you, my beautiful Belle.”
His right knee presses forward between her skirted legs, and she instinctively presses herself against it.
“In all of my fantasies with you, I am on my knees,” he confesses in her ear.
“I’m on my knees, with your pretty little arse up in the air as I’m buried deep inside of you.”
She slides her hands into his suit coat, running her fingers up his chest, as his muscles twitch beneath her touch.
“I’m on my knees when I’m tasting your pleasure on my tongue,” he continues his voice rougher, as she rubs her mons harder against his leg.
“And I’m on my knees, when I’m asking you to marry me,” he whispers.
“Rumple,” she whispers, before grabbing his neck with one hand and pulling him down in an eagerly kiss, while her right-hand glides down brushing his rock hard
Cock.
A guttural groan releases from his mouth just as the office door flies open. Frantically she pulls back from him, looking over his shoulder to see the revolting eyes of Mayor Mills upon them.
“Damnit Gold, what the hell?” she shouts rubbing her eyes as if she were trying to wipe the image of the two lovers from her memory. “This is a municipal building not your own personal brothel.”
“Is there something in particular you needed, Mayor,” Gold grits out with a casual glance over his left shoulder.
“I need the meeting room unlocked to prepare for my presentation,” Regina replies sharply.
“Yes of course, Madam Mayor,” Belle calls out. “Let me just get the keys,” she scrambles to her desk searching for them.
“And since you’re already here Gold, I see no excuse as to why you can’t attend this committee meeting, since you’ve missed the last three.” She takes a few steps forward, straining her neck to look over his shoulder. “That is unless something else has come up,” she mocks with a cold sarcastic tone.
“Got them,” Belle calls out, the keys jingling in her hands, as Regina wordlessly stomps out of the office. Her body slumps in relief, as she moves next to Rumple’s side.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” she says her eyes casted down on the floor. She feels his fingers under her chin, guiding her to look up at him. She sees no shame in his eyes, as he lifts her hand, his lips pressing gently against her fingers.
“To be continued,” he growls under his breath. A tiny spark of anticipation tugs at the corner of her mouth, as she moves to the door before turning back.
“Aren’t you coming?”
“I need a moment, love,” he glances down at the tented arch in his pants. “To compose myself.”
X
It takes twenty minutes to cool her overheated blood after the body rush she just experienced in her office. She has borne her innermost secrets to him, and instead of scorn she was met with his accepting arms and words that made her heart stutter and explode. To learn that he has given thought of marrying her only makes her desire and love for him grow stronger. He is her forever, her always, of that she was sure, but now she needs to find a distraction from the enchantment of Rumford Gold.
She decided the best distraction is cataloguing the newest donations to the library. Sitting at the counter, she punches away at the keyboard.
Raising her arms to stretch, she casually glances across the library peering at the glass wall of the meeting room where her boyfriend currently sits against the back wall. While she truly tries to focus on work, his angular silhouette supplants all her motivation. She glances down for a moment, but as she looked back up, his sparkling eyes are looking directly at hers, a smile on his lips that sends her heart libido into overdrive.
Her heart is beating heavily within her chest, as neither of them look away. His breathing becomes heavier, and she wonders if he can tell the erotic nature her thoughts are currently taking. The invisible thread that ties their gaze is quickly clipped as an irritated Mayor Mills rashly comes into view, drawing the curtain to the room closed.
Placing her head in her hands she lets out a heavy sigh, as she continues working for the next 30 minutes. She can only imagine her boyfriend sitting in the meeting exacting his revenge for the closed curtain with curt words and gruff objections to every proposal by the mayor.
It was only 5 minutes till closing when she heard the voices of Archie Hopper, and Mary Margaret echoing back to the reference stacks where she currently is working. The meeting must be done, she thinks, biting her lip in anticipation of seeing her boyfriend again. Walking into the outskirts of the library, she sees Mayor Mills and the others heading towards the exit.
She moves towards her office, taking a quick glimpse, finding him not there. She then looks toward the meeting room with the curtain now pulled back and sees it to be empty as well.
“Rumple?” she calls out her inquiry bouncing off the library walls.
“We may sit in our library, and yet be in all quarters of the earth,” a whispering voice, familiar and warm answers back. Turning around, her heart flutters as Gold steps out from behind a towering bookshelf.
“How did the meeting go?” she asks, the question answered by a dismissive wave of his hand.
“There are much more pressing matters to focus on my dear,” he hums with a mischievous smile.
Tilting her head, she is aware that he is hiding something behind his back. Curiosity piqued she takes a step forward, “And what matters would those…,” the words die on her lips, as he pulls the well-worn cover of, “Her Handsome Hero,” from behind his back.
A delightful shiver dances down her spine, as her cheeks warm. It was nearly three months ago, during a wine fueled game of truth and dare, when asked about her first sexual experience, she confessed to touching herself for the first time while reading that book.
“Would you like a bedtime story, my beautiful Belle?”
She is not sure if it is the sultriness in his voice, or the wicked gleam in his eye, but the room starts growing warmer and sweat begins to form across her brow.
“Yes,” her reply stumbles nervously out of her mouth, as her body trembles. She watches as he drags a wooden chair out from one of the tables and takes a seat. The world around her seems to pause, as she holds her breath, as the book opens.
“Start with chapter 22,” she says, moving her thumb to her mouth and biting it softly. She has read that book front to cover endless times, but right now, she wants to hear those specific words from his mouth.
His voice fills the air, as she breathes in his words. Her body sways gently as he reads, her hips undulating in a sensuous rhythm. She can feel her wetness start to build. She glides gracefully towards the long wooden table nearest him, as his words stutter for the first time, as he watches her approach. She hops on the table, her feet dangling off the side. Gently she lowers down to lay on her back, as her fingers start hiking up the hem of her skirt.
As he reads on, she can hear his struggle to stay focused, as he reads the same line three times. Her hands move to her chest, as her fingers unbutton her blouse, and tease her nipple. She hears moans as his pauses getting longer between every word.
“Don’t stop,” she commands, moving her fingers down to brush her underwear aside, to play with her folds. His deep breathing overtakes his voice, as the noises he now makes are almost incomprehensible, as she lets out a gasp of pleasure, her body convulsing as her body goes limp on the table.
As the moment passes, she slowly comes back to herself, savoring the afterglow of her orgasm. The room is silent, as she finally opens her eyes, a small smile of satisfaction plays across her lips as she stares at her boyfriend. She has never seen him looking so completely undone. His skin is pale and dampened, his breath is heavy and ragged, his hair wild as if he raked his hands through it, and his eyes bewildered. For a moment she is worried that he may be having a heart attack, but her eyes land upon his engorged manhood straining against the crotch of his pants.
“Come here,” she whispers, and he obeys her command without hesitation, placing the book on the chair as he stands up, and moves to the table. She feels a strong grip on her ankles as he yanks her body to the edge of the table before getting on his knees. His tongue enters her thick and fast, as her hips buck upwards begging for more. Waves of ecstasy crash down with every stroke of his tongue, until her climax comes hard and fast.
“Roll over,” he commands standing up. As she rolls over, she hears him climb up on the table behind her. He mounts her back as she feels the tip of his cock near her entrance. Gripping her hips, he slowly presses into her and soon picks up the tempo as she moans approvingly.
“Won’t last,” he mutters out, right before he falls over the edge. She smiles, as she feels the weight of him go limp as his gasping breath starts to slow. He kisses her shoulder blade and massages her spine, before he slips out of her. She moves over, as he takes his place laying by her side on the long wooden table.
“I love you,” he whispers, placing his forehead against hers.
“I love you too,” she breathes back.
He chuckles for a moment. “If it always ends like this, I swear I will read you every book in here.”
Her fingertips gently graze his lips as she whispers. “I like the sound of that.”
