It was one of the most magical evening of his life. 300 years he’d lived and there were just a handful of things he could honestly say that made him feel, well, alive. So as he lay beside Belle, sated and joyful, he looked at Belle with warmth in his eyes.
What a woman.
How she was so understanding of what he was was beyond him. Yet he wasn’t going to question it, not even remotely.
“...you alright there?” he murmured to her, wanting to be sure she was feeling just as good as he was.
for @tinuviel-undomiel, who is sick. Get well soon!
Belle stepped into the hallway, glancing around as he closed the door behind her. The house was pleasantly warm, the walls painted a dusky pink. A staircase in dark, shining wood led upwards, and a gilt-framed mirror hung on the wall by the coat rack.
“May I take your coat?”
She flinched slightly at the sound of his voice, but opened up her coat, and his fingers slid over her shoulders and slowly pulled it from her.
“You’re looking very lovely,” he murmured, and she turned on her toes to face him with a wry expression.
“Save it, Gold.”
He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.
“Forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t realise that compliments were so controversial.”
“Yeah, well, you can keep your compliments,” she said. “This isn’t a date.”
“Of course,” he said lightly. “I’d forgotten how intent you were on guarding your virtue. How very remiss of me.”
She elected not to respond to that beyond a flat look, and he hung up the coat and gestured across the hallway. The silver cuff gleamed at his wrist, and she wondered whether he had taken it off since she last saw him. She wondered how it affected him.
“Please, go through to the lounge,” he said. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Okay,” she said suspiciously, and he smiled and nodded, sauntering away to what she presumed was the kitchen.
She walked into the lounge, looking around with interest as she did so. It was beautifully furnished, with antique furniture in gleaming mahogany with silk coverings. A rug patterned in green, red and gold covered much of the wooden floor, and an ornate mirror hung over the fireplace, which had a large, carved mantelpiece in green marble shot with gold and cream. A tall bookcase held a number of delicate pieces of china and glass, and she wondered whether he rotated stock between his home and the shop. There were no books in the room, but he had said he kept a collection, which meant that they must be elsewhere. She itched to find out what he held.
“I’d already opened some red.” Gold’s voice made her look around as he entered, two glasses of red wine held in his hands. “I hope that’s acceptable.”
“Thank you.”
She took one of the glasses, turning away and walking slowly around the room to study the rest of the furniture. A large couch upholstered in deep green and gold silk, a mismatched armchair with red and cream striped covers, a small table in polished mahogany. Belle dropped her purse onto the couch, cradling the wine glass in her hands.
“You have some lovely things,” she observed.
“Bits and pieces.”
She turned on her toes to face him. Gold was leaning on the mantelpiece, wine glass dangling from his fingertips. He had lost the dish towel, but his sleeves were still rolled up to his elbows, and she ran her eyes over his forearms, watching the tiny jump of muscles as he raised the glass, the fine dark hairs glinting in the light. Her gaze travelled up to his face, his dark eyes watching her.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked, and he licked his lips, a brief pass of his tongue.
“Venison,” he said. “Roast rack with fondant potatoes and a rosemary and red wine sauce.”
“Sounds delicious,” she said. “I guess a lot of hunting goes on around here.”
He smirked at that, as though she had said something amusing.
“More than you might think.”
His voice was low and a little rough, making the hair on the nape of her neck stand up and her belly clench. An image came to her: a memory of his hands on her, his mouth on her, lips trailing over her skin as he whispered filthy words. She blushed a little, trying to keep her mind out of the gutter.
“Did you kill the deer that provided this venison?” she asked, and he gestured up and down himself.
“Can you see me running around in the woods, butchering things with a hunting knife?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I suspect you have many faces that you hide from the world.”
He grinned at that.
“Perhaps, but blood’s a bitch to get out of one’s suits,” he said. “My dry-cleaning bill is quite hefty enough, thank you.”
“A fastidious vampire?” she said, in a wry tone.
“You were expecting me to be eager to bathe in gore?”
“Maybe not,” she allowed. “But somehow I doubt you’d baulk at slaughtering a deer.”
“And that bothers you?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “I wouldn’t ever go hunting. My father used to go and shoot things, but I refused to go with him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a soft purr. “I didn’t realise you were vegetarian.”
“I’m not,” she said, after a pause.
“So you’re not ideologically opposed to the slaughter itself,” he said, “but you purchase your meat in clean plastic trays from the store, so somehow that means you can forget about the whole unpleasant business.”
“Then you did kill it?” she said, ignoring the barb.
He smiled.
“It was a gift from a friend,” he said.
“Is this friend like you?”
“No,” he said. “His idea of a pleasant evening is too much mediocre alcohol followed by an erotic encounter with several strangers.”
Belle raised an eyebrow. “And yours?”
His smile widened.
“I’m already having a very pleasant evening, Miss French.”
She gave him a look, amused in spite of herself.
“That’s not what I meant, anyway,” she said. “Is he - like you? A vampire?”
Gold shrugged slightly, neither confirming nor denying, and she huffed in frustration, taking a sip of her wine. It was very good: rich and fruity, with the smooth taste of black cherries and chocolate. She took another sip. He was watching her over the rim of his glass, dark eyes gleaming. A clock ticked its slow, deep rhythm on the wall behind her, and she wished her heart would keep pace with it instead of hammering against her ribs.
“How’s the taste?” he asked quietly.
“It’s very good,” she said. “I’m the first to admit I wouldn’t know where to start with buying good wine, but this is delicious.”
“Worth opening, then.”
There was a moment of silence, and she turned away from him a little, wandering slowly around the room and pretending an interest in the porcelain on the shelves, so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. She could feel his eyes on her, like spectral fingers caressing her skin, and she shivered.
“You seem agitated, Miss French,” he said. “Rest assured I mean you no harm. Not this evening, anyway.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said automatically.
“You’d be very foolish, if that were so,” he said. “But we both know it’s a lie. You are afraid of me, because you’re intelligent enough to recognise the threat I present. You’re also reckless enough not to let that stop you.”
Belle turned slowly on the balls of her feet, hair swinging behind her as she faced him.
“Stop me from what?”
Gold shrugged, a brief rise and fall of one shoulder, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Well, time will tell, won’t it?”
Belle shot him a very level look.
“I am not having sex with you,” she said flatly, and he pressed a hand to his heart.
“Who said anything about sex?” he asked. “My my, you do have a one-track mind. A few screaming orgasms and that’s all you can think about. For shame!”
She turned away, seething with a mix of irritation and amusement. Burying her nose in her wine, she inhaled its rich aroma. He was still watching her, dark eyes flicking over her, and it made her think of how it felt to have his hands on her, his mouth on her, his fingers inside her. She licked her lips, shoving the images away, and looked up.
“Are you eating this dinner with me?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“So…” She floundered a little. “So - how often do you need to feed on - on blood?”
Gold shrugged.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“On who crosses my path,” he said, with a tiny grin. “Perhaps you would call me an opportunist.”
“Perhaps I’d call you a murderer.”
Gold tilted his head from side to side.
“Potato, potahto…”
“That’s not funny,” she said stiffly. “You must know it’s wrong to kill people.”
“When you’re in my position, Miss French, you’ll find that human judgements on morality lose their significance somewhat.”
“Hmm.” She looked him over thoughtfully. “And yet you invited me over and prepared a delicious meal instead of simply tearing out my throat like you first threatened to.”
“Well, as I said.” His voice was quiet, almost menacing. “One desire is much like another.”
“And you still insist on good manners and polite conversation and immaculate dress.”
“Of course. I’m not a savage.”
“So is that something you’ve developed over the years, or is it carried over from the man you were before you became - this?”
Gold didn’t respond, and his silence made her want to push him further.
“I think you still hold to a great many of the ideals of your past life,” she said, intrigued by the sudden twitch of his lip. “I think maybe you’re not as dark as you want people to believe.”
“Maybe I’m darker,” he said softly, and she smiled.
“Okay, then why did you ask me here?”
Gold pulled a face.
“I owed you dinner.”
“Yes, but you could have taken me to Granny’s.”
“I think not,” he said quietly, looking offended.
“Some other restaurant, then.”
“Is there something wrong with my home?”
“Of course not, it’s just - I didn’t think you’d want to let someone in here, that’s all.”
She wondered if her double meaning was too subtle, but the way his eyes narrowed suggested that he had caught it.
“I’m not a hermit, Miss French,” he said coolly. “And I assure you that this house is not a metaphor for my heart and soul.”
Belle pursed her lips.
“Isn’t it?” she said. “How many other women have you brought here?”
Gold showed his teeth, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement.
“Oh, you want to discuss our respective sexual histories?” he asked. “I hate to disappoint, but a gentleman never tells. I assure you this isn’t some sort of romantic overture.”
“Really?” she said. “Because I think maybe you’re tired of the life you lead, of only seeing humans as prey.”
“Is that how you think I see you?” he asked. “Dangerous to be here, if so.”
“No,” she said. “No, that’s not how you see me, is it?”
He was silent, fingers tapping restlessly on the mantelpiece, and she wanted to smile.
“Maybe you’re tired of pretending to be part of a world in which you’re always an outsider,” she said softly. “Maybe you’re lonely.”
“I’m not,” he said shortly, and she shrugged, stepping closer.
“So you say,” she said. “I guess you don’t want to admit it because it’s been so long, but all those years passing by with no one to share them? Anyone would grasp at a chance of conversation, of - of connection.”
She moved closer, until she was within a pace of him, close enough to smell his cologne and see the tiny lines at the corners of his mouth. The fire crackled, its warmth bathing her legs, and she met his eyes, the golden light of the lamps reflected in their dark depths. His nostrils flared a little, and she could feel her heart thumping, her skin tingling. The air between them seemed to hum and spark, and she felt that low-down pull of desire again, her eyes dropping to his lips before flicking upwards once more. Gold shifted position, setting his glass down on the mantelpiece and leaning against it as he shook his hair back.
“You think I seek a - connection - with you?”
His voice was a low growl that seemed to vibrate in the air around her, and Belle placed her glass next to his, trying to steady her racing heart, her quickening breath.
“I think you offered me valuable information, and all you asked in return was to have dinner,” she said softly. “I’m just joining the dots and making a picture.”
Gold locked his eyes onto hers, the tension between them almost palpable. But then he smiled, breaking the strange spell, and there was a touch of patronising indulgence in his expression.
“Tell me,” he said. “When you were conducting your no doubt extensive research into my kind, exactly how many tedious pieces of vampire-based romance fiction did you read?”
“I—” Belle opened and closed her mouth, suddenly thrown. “Well, I wouldn’t call the reading of fiction research, exactly, but it can give some interesting insights at times, and—”
“Perhaps I’m supposed to be brooding alone somewhere,” he interrupted, making his fingers dance in the air with his words. “Telling you to stay away from me for your own good, hinting at some dark secret, assuring you that I’m a monster.”
Belle folded her arms, raising an eyebrow.
“Are you telling me you’re not?”
Gold’s smile widened.
“Despite my physical advantages, I daresay I’m no more of a monster than some,” he said. “I don’t kill unless I have to, and those I do kill are no loss to this world.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“That’s not for you to decide.”
“Oh, so I should leave it up to the justice system in this country?” He snorted quietly. “Please. You know very well that justice has little to do with who walks free, and who faces a death sentence.”
“And so you pronounce yourself judge, jury and executioner of those you hunt?”
“No,” he said. “I pronounce myself hungry. And reasonably selective in my choice of food source.”
Belle scowled, putting her hands on her hips.
“Your ‘food source’, as you put it, happens to be a living, breathing person with - with a family, and - and feelings!”
“So?”
“So!” She threw up her hands. “So, you take all that away from them!”
“And?”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Should it?” he said lazily. “Does the wolf feel remorse for culling the aged deer?”
“A wolf isn’t a human being!”
“No more am I.”
There was silence for a moment. Belle couldn’t really think of a response to that, and Gold shrugged, looking amused.
“You appear to be under the delusion that I should be some sort of tortured soul,” he said. “Trapped by my own darkness, consumed with guilt and self-loathing, a creature to be pitied.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“The truth of the matter, Miss French,” he went on, “is that I like my life. I have a delightful home in a quaint little town. I have books and music and good food and excellent wine. Every so often, I enjoy the company of someone. I have the time and the money to do whatever I wish, with no fear of the clock running down, no fear of disease or death getting in the way of what I want. My life, on the whole, is highly enjoyable. I just want to live it, with as little interference from the outside world as possible. I daresay most of the residents of this town feel the same.”
Belle sighed in frustration, and he took a step closer.
“I don’t need your pity,” he said quietly. “And I certainly don’t need to be saved. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to tend to our dinner.”
He picked up his wine, pushing away from the fire and sauntering off to the kitchen, and she watched him go, irritated. After a moment, she could hear the clatter of pans, and she reached for her purse, taking out her phone to text Aurora a brief message to let them know she was fine. Slipping the phone back into her purse, she picked up her wine and wandered through to the kitchen. It was surprisingly modern compared to the lounge and hallway, with granite worktops and gleaming appliances. Gold was stirring something, his wine glass on the counter beside him and a delicious smell rising from the pan. He glanced over his shoulder at her.
“Another ten minutes or so,” he said. “Perhaps you’d like to go through to the library while you wait.”
“You have a library?”
She stared at him, wide-eyed, and he smirked.
“Turn right into the hallway, and it’s the door at the end.”
Belle followed his directions, eyes questing ahead. She found the door easily, and pushed at it, reaching to the side for the light switch and flicking it on. Her mouth fell open. The room was large, wooden shelving covering the walls, and books were stacked from floor to ceiling. A chaise striped in red and white silk sat beside a small mahogany table, a lamp with a large silk shade patterned in flowers atop it. Belle stepped inside, walking slowly around the room, eyes running over the titles on the spines of the books. She was pleased to see that it was mostly fiction, with one wall dedicated to history, politics and biographies. The books appeared to be grouped in genre, with two shelves just for poetry, and she smiled as she saw how many of her own classic favourites he held. She wondered which were his own favourites.
She ran a finger over rounded spines, feeling the roughness of cloth binding, the smoothness of leather on books a hundred years old or more. A tiny smile curved her lips. Had he read them all? Had he sat by candlelight, by lamplight, pages turning as old clocks ticked and the fire crackled and the world turned, as the humans around him were born and lived and died?
The sound of footsteps made her straighten up, and Gold walked in, glass of wine dangling from his fingertips.
“This is a lovely room,” she said truthfully. “How long have you lived in this house?”
“Oh, sixty years or more,” he said. “It’s a pleasant space. I’m quite comfortable here.”
“So many books!” she said, eyes scanning the shelves.
“I can give you recommendations, if you like,” he said. “But perhaps later. Dinner is ready.”
Belle followed him to a room she hadn’t yet entered. The dining room had the same pink walls as the rest of the house, a long, shining table that looked to be made of walnut, ten chairs, and a large sideboard along the wall. A light fitting in the shape of a wrought-iron chandelier hung above the table, but the light came from bulbs rather than candles. The table had been set for two, the places opposite one another at the end, set with silver cutlery and gleaming glassware. The bottle of red wine, its contents mostly gone, was standing on a silver-plated coaster.
“Please take a seat,” he said. “I’ll bring the food.”
Belle took the chair nearest the door once he had left, smoothing the skirt of her dress over her legs. There was music playing at a low volume, some classical piece she didn’t recognise, a soothing, lilting tune. She took a sip of wine, glancing around herself. His house was incredibly neat and clean, and she wondered if he had someone come in and clean the place, or if he did it himself. Did the rest of the town know what he was? Was the non-human community fully integrated, or living their lives in secret amongst the humans? All questions she was burning to ask.
She heard his footsteps, a rhythmic tapping on the polished floor, and turned her head as he entered the room, two plates of food in his hands. He set one in front of her, and a delicious smell wafted into her nose as she looked it over. Three thick chops of tender venison, the meat pink in the middle and the bones neatly-trimmed, rested against a portion of potatoes dauphinoise, crisp-topped and oozing creamy sauce. The beans and carrots she had noticed earlier had been steamed and were glistening with butter, and a rich, glossy sauce was poured over.
“It looks delicious,” she said, and he smiled.
“Let me know how it tastes.”
Belle cut a piece of meat, popping it into her mouth. The meat was tender, the taste deep and a little smoky. The sauce coating it was rich with red wine and stock, the clean flavour of rosemary and the sweet, tart taste of berries. Her mouth watered, and she made a noise of appreciation as she chewed. Gold smiled, eyes gleaming.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
They ate in silence for awhile, pausing to take sips of wine, and she watched him as the meal went on. He seemed to enjoy the food, and she wondered how it compared to blood. Whether he felt the same hunger she did, or whether there was only one thing that would truly sate him. Her mind slipped away to dwell on more lurid thoughts, and she blushed a little, concentrating on her food and trying to clear the memories from her mind.
“So,” said Gold, making her look up. “How are you finding our little town?”
“It’s - very quaint,” she said, and he smiled.
“I meant your investigations into its inhabitants,” he said. “I’m well aware you and your friends have been traipsing around the place, trying to figure people out. It’s amusing.”
Belle sat back a little, picking up her glass.
“Well, so far we think that the owner of Granny’s Diner could be a werewolf,” she said. “Possibly her granddaughter too. And I’m thinking nothing happens in this town without the Mayor knowing about it, so she has to have some involvement in your world, right? Her daughter seemed very wary when she met me.”
“I already told you,” he said. “I won’t reveal the secrets of my fellow townsfolk. If you want their stories, you’ll have to ask them yourself.”
“So what can you tell me?” she asked, and he sighed, putting down his knife and fork and reaching for his wine.
“The Mayor’s name is Cora Mills,” he said. “She has two daughters, Zelena and Regina.”
“I met Regina,” she said slowly. “Dark hair? Very pretty?”
“That’s her.”
“So - what’s Zelena like?”
“Red hair. Very annoying.”
Belle shot him a look.
“And the Mayor?”
“Ambitious, and not to be trusted,” he said. “But she is admittedly a very competent Mayor. Zelena inherited her mother’s ruthlessness with none of her competence. Regina is very intelligent, and has a softer nature, but she can be just as volatile and impulsive as her sister. They live at the Mayor’s mansion with Cora’s on-off lover Mal and her own daughter, Lily. Lily is a little younger than Regina.”
“Quite the coven,” remarked Belle, and Gold’s eyebrows quirked.
“Your words, not mine,” he said dryly.
“So - are they witches?” she asked eagerly, leaning forward.
“I didn’t say that.”
She sat back, frustrated, but at least it was something.
“Okay,” she said. “What else can you tell me?”
“Well, there’s an ice cream parlour that I’m rather fond of,” he said breezily. “The burgers at Granny’s are excellent, and she has a chicken special on Fridays. I can recommend the blueberry cobbler.”
“Gold, come on…”
He eyed her for a moment, drumming his fingers on the table, then picked up the win bottle and leaned forward to pour the remaining wine into their glasses.
“Very well,” he said. “Why don’t you tell me what it is that you’re after, Miss French?”
“I want to know about you and - and vampires in general,” she said. “It’s like - so much of what I understood to be true seems to be inaccurate, from what you tell me.”
“I suppose empirical studies are somewhat thin on the ground.”
“So, here’s your chance to be part of something groundbreaking, then,” she said lightly, and he stared at her, unblinking.
“I have no desire to be a footnote in your thesis.”
“I was thinking more like a specific acknowledgement, thanking you for your valuable input,” she said, with a grin, and he rolled his eyes.
“Why don’t you ask your questions and I’ll decide whether I want to answer them?”
“Okay,” she said. “How do you become a vampire?”
“Are you asking for my backstory or is this a more general question?”
“Uh - both, I guess.”
“General first, then,” he said. “You get bitten. Sometimes the vampire drains you dry and that’s the end of it. You end your time on this earth as a delicious meal for a monster. But sometimes the vampire feeds you some of their blood, and that changes you. The curse passes into you, and changes you forever.”
Belle frowned.
“That’s twice now you’ve called it a curse,” she said. “And yet earlier you said you liked your life. So which is it?”
Gold shrugged, cutting up the last of his venison.
“Even the most enjoyable life has its off-days.”
“So - so is ‘the curse’ - to borrow your expression - is it like a parasite?” she asked. “Or is it a virus?”
Gold sucked his teeth, looking thoughtful.
“I suppose it’s more akin to a parasite,” he agreed. “The old you remains, but it’s forever altered. I don’t just mean in the obvious physical advantages, the immortality.”
“In what other ways?”
He pulled a face, lower lip drawing up over his teeth as he shrugged.
“In that your primary desire is now to sate your sudden and overwhelming appetite for human blood.”
“I thought you said you could control that.”
“We were talking in general terms, remember?” he said. “I can abstain for long periods if I choose, but the need is still there. I’ve just learned to control it.”
“Is that - is that a long process?” she asked, and he smiled, a brief twitch of his lips.
“A century or two, but who’s counting?”
Belle’s mouth fell open, curiosity burning within her.
“How old are you?”
“My my, what a rude question!” he drawled, pressing a hand to his heart, and she sat back, slumping a little in her seat.
“God, you’re such an asshole!” she sighed, and then her eyes widened as something occurred to her. “Oh, wait! Is there - is there something cultural in that? Like is it offensive to question a vampire’s age? Because if so, then I’m really sorry, I didn’t know. I want to learn, I really do!”
Gold was silent, his eyes gleaming as he watched her, and Belle frowned at him.
“Well?” she said, a touch of asperity returning to her voice. “Look, I’m trying, okay? But I can’t avoid creating an uncomfortable situation if you don’t tell me what I did wrong, so let’s hear it. Did I mention the unmentionable?”
His mouth twitched in a tiny smile.
“No,” he said. “I’m just fucking with you. My age is no great and terrible secret, but the look of horror on your face over a potential faux pas was something I’ll treasure forever.”
Belle wanted to grind her teeth, but decided not to rise to it.
“Fine,” she said thinly. “Then how old are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Gold!”
“No really, I don’t,” he assured her. “At least not accurately. I believe that I was born in the seventh century, as you would calculate it, and that I was born at Midwinter, but beyond that - well, we never had much need to know what year it was. It was the seasons that were important, the times to plant and harvest and store, and when the lambs started to be born. The festivals we held. How many years it had been since some arbitrary date tied to an unfamiliar god or a distant ruler never mattered to most of us.”
Belle leaned forward, curiosity burning inside her.
“Tell me about your mortal life.”
His eyes glittered.
“I thought you wanted to know about vampires.”
“I do.”
“Then let’s stick with that topic, shall we?”
“Alright,” she said. “You mentioned that crucifixes were no use in repelling vampires.”
“Well, I suppose they might have a repellent effect on a few of my kind,” he said. “I daresay there’s more than one who was highly religious in life and doesn’t wish to be reminded of how far they have strayed from the path, as it were. I’m not one of them.”
“What about holy water?” she asked, and he shrugged, taking another drink.
“You may as well threaten me with a cup of tea.”
“So what does work?” she asked. “I’ve used holy water on a demon in the past. It saved my life.”
“I’m not saying it’s useless,” he said. “It just won’t work on vampires. We predate Christianity by some margin, so while holy water and crosses may work against newer forms of those that are other than human, it won’t work against us.”
“That’s interesting,” she said thoughtfully. “That suggests that you’re all connected.”
“That we share the same parasite?” He looked amused. “Perhaps we do.”
“Is there any other sort of connection?” she asked. “Can you sense when other vampires are around?”
“Yes,” he said. “But then I can sense a lot of other-worldly creatures, so I wouldn’t read too much into that.”
“And - and humans?”
“Oh yes,” he said quietly. “I can certainly sense those.”
“What do you sense about me?” she asked, a little nervously.
He was silent for a moment, watching her. The tips of long fingers caressed the smooth wood of the tabletop beneath them, as though he were stroking skin, and she tried to suppress a shiver of arousal.
“I sense a hunger,” he said softly. “An almost overwhelming curiosity. A need.”
“For what?”
“For knowledge,” he said. “For experience, for - satisfaction.”
“Here we go with the sex metaphors again,” she remarked dryly, and he grinned.
“You agreed to come to dinner, Miss French,” he said. “I think we know each other well enough to admit that you have appetites.”
“You think I’m gonna sleep with you because you made me dinner?” she said witheringly.
“Certainly not.”
“Good.”
He reached for his wine glass, picking it up delicately between finger and thumb and taking a slow sip. There was a clink as he put it down, and he let the tip of his tongue wet his lips, his eyes glinting at her.
“I think you’re going to sleep with me because I know how to make you come,” he said quietly.
There was silence for a moment as Belle met his gaze. Her belly gave a traitorous lurch at the look in his eyes, and she tried to ignore it. He waved a dismissive hand.
“Besides, we already established you have a monster kink,” he said lazily. “I suggest you embrace it.”
“So you did decide to tell me you’re a monster?” she said, her tone flat, and he grinned, white teeth gleaming.
“By some measures, yes,” he said. “Doesn’t that turn you on?”
“Of course not,” she said coolly. “Besides, I don’t think you’re a monster.”
“Hmm.” He looked unconvinced, and took another drink. “Your opinion is not shared by most, I fear.”
“What about in Storybrooke?” she said. “Why did you choose to live in this town?”
He pushed the glass away from himself a little, sitting back in his chair before he answered.
“There’s been a settlement here for a long time,” he said finally. “Long before it was called Storybrooke, and long before people crossed from Europe and invaded these lands. Otherworldly creatures have made their home here for thousands of years.”
“Why?”
“I can’t explain it,” he admitted. “There are some places in the world that have a different energy, a different aura. Storybrooke is one of them. Perhaps because it’s still a place of magic, touching the old world, a thinning of the veil between dimensions.”
“There’s magic everywhere if you know how to harness it.”
“Indeed there is,” he agreed. “But don’t you find spell-casting so much easier here?”
Belle hesitated. It was true, she had found magic not only easier to use in Storybrooke, but had also found herself thinking of new ways to use it. Crossing the town line had seemed to open her mind to wider possibilities than she was used to seeing. She resolved to ask Mulan and Aurora what they had felt, if anything.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “So it’s like - a haven for those who are different?”
“Different.” He seemed to roll the word around on his tongue, looking amused. “That’s a very open-minded description, Miss French. You’re losing some of your prejudice.”
“I’m sorry if you think I’ve been intolerant,” she said, a little stiffly. “My experiences with other vampires haven’t exactly been successful.”
“Well, most humans are very much of the ‘kill first, ask questions later’ variety,” he said. “I believe this is the first time I’ve sat down with a would-be student of the darker forms of life.”
“Being different doesn’t necessarily make you evil,” she said, and he smiled.
“Not necessarily, no,” he agreed. “Sometimes there’s a choice to be made.”
“And what choice did you make?” she asked softly.
He took another drink, setting down his glass, the tip of his tongue sweeping across his lips as he did so.
“Life isn’t about one choice,” he said quietly. “It’s a series of choices. Some I’m proud of, some I’m not. Evil is a relative term. As is good.”
“Would you tell me about some of those choices?”
He smiled then, one elbow resting on the table, a finger stroking his upper lip.
“A topic of conversation for another evening, I think.”
“Are you expecting me to come for dinner again?”
His eyebrows twitched in amusement.
“Are you saying you won’t?”
Belle didn’t respond, turning to the remains of her food, and there was silence as they finished their meal. She pushed the plate away a little, sitting back with a sigh and reaching for her almost-empty glass.
“That was very good,” she said. “Thank you.”
“More wine?”
“Please.”
He got up to take the plates, and Belle watched him go before getting up from the table and walking over to the fireplace. The fire was unlit, the mantelpiece light grey marble, cool and smooth beneath her fingertips. A large mirror hung above, the frame gilded, with beading around the edge of the glass. The chandelier was reflected behind her, multiple points of light casting a pleasant glow over the room with its deep pink walls and high ceilings and gleaming antique furniture, and for a moment she imagined how things might have been for him in other homes, in earlier times. The towns and cities in which he had made his lair across the centuries, and the society he had moved in, with its changing fashions and focus and threats. Had he worn frock coats and breeches and fine linen shirts, and known women in crinolines with powdered wigs? Had he worn silk hose and velvet doublets and carried a sword at his hip? Had he watched with the detachment of the unaffected while plague killed the humans around him in their thousands? Had he ever been lonely?
She eyed her reflection, her eyes a little darker in the low light, a flush in her cheeks from the wine she had drunk, her lips full and slightly parted. She licked them a little nervously. Her heart was thumping, her belly tightening, her skin tingling, as though it was too sensitive, and she tried to tell herself it was the wine, or the warmth of the room. Her mind whispered the truth she had been trying to ignore for some time: it was her own need, her desire. He was right about her, could see to the heart of her, and the realisation hit her with a force almost hard enough to steal her breath. She would have sex with him. She would have sex with him and she would enjoy doing it, and feel zero shame.
Having faced her rising desire and acknowledged it, she actually felt better. She took a deep breath, fixing her reflection with a stare, and nodded curtly. She heard footsteps off to the side, but didn’t glance around as Gold entered. He stepped up behind her, reaching up to set two glasses of wine on the mantelpiece either side of her. His hands rested on the marble for a moment, his arms surrounding her, and it made her breath catch as she raised her chin. The fingers lifted, his arms falling away to his sides, as though he was releasing her, and the breath she held rippled out over her lips.
“You look very determined,” he remarked.
His face was visible over her shoulder, and Belle studied his reflection in the mirror, the warm light gleaming on the shining sweeps of his hair. His eyes were almost black, boring into hers, and she licked her lips.
“So,” she said. “The mirror thing is also a myth, then?”
His mouth curled up in a smile, and he moved a little closer, until she felt his chest brush against her back. Her heart thumped harder, her breath quickening.
“Do you think I’m somehow incorporeal?” he asked, his voice a low rasp. “I have a body, do I not?”
She swallowed hard.
“Yes.”
“And it feels real, when it’s pressed against yours?”
The bass tone of his voice seemed to vibrate through her, making her shiver.
“Yes,” she whispered.
There was silence for a moment, a silence that seemed tense and heavy, a weight in the air around her, pressing against her skin, as though a storm was coming. Her heart was thumping, and she wanted the tension to break, to shatter. For him to turn her and kiss her and take her. He edged closer, nose sweeping across from one shoulder to the nape of her neck, as though he was inhaling her scent, and she squeezed her thighs together, yearning for the touch of his hands, his lips.
“May I touch you, Belle?” he whispered, and she nodded.
“Yes.”
Her voice was barely audible, a tiny hiss breathed into the air, and she felt his fingers first, sliding over her hips as he shifted closer, until his chest was pressing against her back. The tugging in her belly became an ache as his fingers tightened, and he lifted one hand, catching in her hair and sweeping it to the side. He pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, and Belle shivered, the sensation making goosebumps ripple over her skin. Her heart was thudding in her chest, and she wondered if he could hear it, if her need called to him. His mouth opened, soft and wet against her skin, and he sucked gently. She shuddered as she felt his teeth scrape her, and a thrill ran through her body, her pulse quickening. Soft lips brushed her again, and he groaned, a low, bass rumble that she felt low-down in her groin.
“I thought you weren’t going to sleep with me,” he said softly.
“I can change my mind, can’t I?”
She felt him smile, and his hands slid down over her hips and beneath the skirt of her dress to slide up her thighs. His fingers inched higher, over her hips, hooking under the waistband of her thong and gently drawing it down until it fell around her ankles. Belle stepped out of it, licking her lips, and then his hands were on her again, sliding between her legs, index finger gently pushing between her folds. She closed her eyes, gasping as she felt him release the slippery fluid that had formed there, and Gold growled again, his other hand moving up to cup her breast and squeeze. His mouth trailed up her neck to brush against her ear.
“Open your eyes,” he whispered.
She obeyed, her eyelids flickering, and he was gazing at her in the mirror, his eyes dark pits, the light creating highlights and shadows from the bones and hollows of his face. A perfect reflection.
“Are any of the stories real?” she whispered.
“Many.”
His fingers were stroking her, moving slowly through soft, wet flesh, and she let out a moan, her eyes sliding closed as bursts of pleasure went through her.
“Open your eyes.”
Belle licked her lips, concentrating on the feel of his fingers, the rhythm of movement against her clit.
“If the mirror shows your face, and holy water has no effect, then what is real?” she breathed, and he smiled.
“You can learn my weaknesses another night, Miss French,” he murmured. “I’m very much enjoying finding every last one of yours, after all.”
His finger pushed inside inside her, and Belle let her head roll back with a moan as he thrust, his thumb circling her clit, his tongue stroking over the nape of her neck and making her shudder with pleasure. The sensations were incredible, rippling through her with the heavy throb of her pulse, perspiration beading on her upper lip as her breathing grew ragged.
“Look at me, Belle!” he said roughly.
She opened her eyes, the lids heavy, reluctant. He was gazing at her intently, his jaw tight, his eyes dark, lips parted and the faintest gleam of light on his teeth. His fingers thrust inside her, in time with the sweeping pad of his thumb, and she could feel her body growing taut, her limbs shaking as she neared her peak. Gold bared his teeth in a snarl, his eyes gleaming.
“Come for me!”
Rigid fingers thrust rapidly, in and out, and Belle let out a whimper, a tiny cry that became something more, a desperate, keening wail. White light burst behind her eyes as she came hard, and her legs buckled, his swift arm around her waist the only thing to hold her up as she jerked against his hand. Waves of pleasure went through her, leaving shivers and loose-limbed languor in their wake, and he stilled his hand, pressing kisses to her neck as she tried to catch her breath.
Belle had closed her eyes, her head bowed, listening to her racing pulse and ragged breathing as the last remnants of pleasure left her. She licked her lips, tasting the fresh salt on her skin. Her mouth was dry, and she wanted to reach for the glass of wine he had brought, but she didn’t quite trust herself to move. Gold slowly withdrew his fingers from her, kissing her neck once more, and she met his eyes in the mirror. He inched back a little, letting her skirt fall back around her thighs again, and slid his hands over her shoulders, turning her to face him. His lips were cool when he kissed her, and she wanted more, to peel off the silk he wore and suck on his skin and feel him inside her. Gold drew back, as though he could sense it, and held her gaze.
“Come to bed with me,” he said quietly, and she nodded.
It had become a ritual and routine for them now. Each school night he would meet her as the sunset and either ride home with her or walk, depending on whether she had driven or not. He would feed where he could do otherwise, sometimes leaving her earlier than the night before so he could do so or waiting for a ‘big feed’ at the weekend. He always managed to have tea and supper with her though, primarily because he wanted to make sure she ate enough.
He’d decided to - as he left the evening before - slip her a note under her door, inviting her to visit his home. He thought that he would keep up the little ‘notes’ routine that she had begun, wanting to turn that little bit of sweetness back on her. It felt romantic in its own way, and he found that he wanted to indulge with some romance with her. Even if they were simply friends.
So he arrived at the school as soon as he could do, driving there with his classic car. Tinted windows and dark red leather interior, it was a comfortable vehicle that he’d looked after for many years now. Parking up and getting out to greet her, Rumple gave her a wave in greeting, approaching the doors so he could offer to carry anything she may have with her. Vampire he may well be, but he could be a gentleman too when he wished it.
It had been a dangerous evening but he had no regrets. Even as he was being rested on Mary’s couch, blood pouring from his shoulder, pain ravaging his every sense, he had no regrets. Witches were all too real, as she now knew, and it appeared that she wasn’t as safe in this world as he had hoped.
One thing had led to another and he had jumped in front of a spell aimed towards her, taking the full brunt of it. The adrenaline he felt had been enough to cause him to at least be able to surge back forwards, his hands clawing at the witch as he managed to sink his teeth in to their neck. Just as he was going to tear through their neck and kill them, Mary had managed to catch him as his body fell to the ground.
Even drinking their blood hadn’t been enough to keep him on his feet. The witch managed to limp away, actually terrified themselves by the fact they had encountered a Vampire willing to put their life at risk to protect Mary.
She had managed to drag him in to her car despite how she trembled and, with every ounce of strength she could muster was hauling him on to the couch so he could rest. He was struggling to come to, struggling to gather the strength to do much but he did at least manage to lift a hand, reaching for Mary’s arm.
“Are you-- you-- alright?” he ground out, still more concerned for her and how she felt rather than the very agonising wound that he had. It would heal, there was nothing that would stop that and he would heal quicker than a human would. But it didn’t stop it hurting.
Last time, Belle and Gold had a bunch of sex after she made a deal with him. But what were the terms he actually agreed to?
Granny’s Diner was busy when Belle arrived, waitresses sweeping past with trays of bacon and eggs, pancakes and waffles, and never-ending pots of coffee. She slid into one of the booths opposite Aurora and Mulan, who were holding hands as they studied the menu. They looked up with wide grins as she sat down.
“So glad you’re okay,” said Aurora fervently, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “I hardly slept a wink all night worrying.”
“Kept me awake, for sure,” said Mulan, with a smirk, and Aurora blushed.
“Well, that was - I was trying to take my mind off things,” she muttered, and buried her face in the menu. Belle shared a grin with Mulan.
“I’m starving,” she announced. “Pancakes with bacon for me and as much coffee as I can drink.”
“Yeah, same.” Aurora pushed the menu across the table.
Mulan raised a hand, catching the eye of one of the waitresses. She trotted over, and Belle recognised the girl with the red streak in her dark hair from their previous visit.
“Decided to stay a few days, huh?” she said pleasantly.
“Oh, we actually decided that we like the place,” said Mulan. “We’re looking for a place to rent, so if we can find a place we like, we’ll be here six months, at least.”
“Oh.” The waitress looked surprised, and a little unnerved. “Well. We don’t get many new folks coming to town. I - I guess if your friend here is opening the library, it’s nice for her to have some familiar faces around.”
“There’s a hospital, right?” asked Aurora.
“Uh - yeah,” said the waitress, and gestured out of the door. “Head north along Main, and it’s on the edge of town. I hope no one’s sick.”
“Oh no, just looking for work,” said Aurora. “I’m a nurse.”
“Oh.” The waitress beamed. “Oh, well, good luck! Now, what can I get you guys?”
Mulan gave the order, and Belle handed back the menus, folding her arms on the table as the waitress scurried off.
“You look tired,” said Mulan sympathetically. “I’m guessing you didn’t sleep too well either, hmm?”
“Not really,” said Belle, wrinkling her nose and hoping her blush wouldn’t give her away. Mulan leaned forward, lowering her voice.
“You think Gold’s just biding his time before he attacks?” she asked softly, and Belle hesitated.
“No,” she said. “At least, I don’t think so. I - uh - I saw him.”
“What?” Mulan frowned. “When? Why didn’t you say something?”
“Are you okay?” added Aurora, concern in her eyes. “Did he - did he threaten you, or…”
“No no, nothing like that,” said Belle. “We actually had what passes for a civil conversation.”
“Don’t trust him,” said Mulan sternly, and Aurora nodded agreement. Belle shifted in her seat.
“Actually, I think it’ll be okay,” she said. “We kind of - came to an understanding.”
“What kind of understanding?” asked Mulan suspiciously, and Belle tried not to blush.
“He’s agreed to wear the cuff,” she said. “In my presence and yours.”
“Oh yeah?” Her suspicion deepened, dark, shapely brows drawing down. “How did you get him to agree to that?”
Belle sighed, but there was no use in trying to hide it.
“I had sex with him again,” she muttered, and Aurora snickered.
“Okay, pay up,” she said, holding out a hand as Mulan grumbled.
“You took bets on me?” snapped Belle.
“Only five bucks,” said Mulan, with a grin, digging in the pocket of her jeans. “I mean it was more a question of when rather than if, let’s be real.”
Belle huffed, folding her arms indignantly, and Aurora giggled as Mulan slapped a five-dollar bill in her palm.
“It’s not really funny, though, Belle,” she said. “You do realise he could easily have killed you, right?”
“I know,” sighed Belle, leaning forward. “It’s just - I know how it sounds—”
“Stupid and reckless,” said Mulan flatly.
“—but I kind of trust him,” she went on. “I get the feeling he’s a man of his word.”
“He’s not a man.”
“Felt like one from where I was lying.”
Mulan sighed in frustration, rolling her eyes.
“You know what I mean,” she said. “He’s not human, Belle.”
“I know,” said Belle, glancing down at where her fingers were laced together. “I know he isn’t. But that doesn’t make him dishonest.”
Aurora and Mulan exchanged a look, and she could sense they wanted to argue further, but they remained silent. The waitress returned, setting mugs of coffee in front of them along with a jug of cream, and Belle added some to hers with a packet of sugar, stirring it up and folding her hands around the mug.
“So,” said Aurora. “What now? I’m going to the hospital to see about a nursing job, and we need to decide on an apartment, but we wanted to do a little investigating, right?”
Belle took a sip of her coffee.
“You said you had - suspicions,” she said, in an undertone. “Anything you’d care to share?”
“Yeah, but maybe we should wait until we’re a little more private,” said Mulan, glancing around the diner. “This place is great for people-watching, though. You know, if they’re all people…”
“Given what you said about the full moon, I’m guessing that’s not true?”
“Time will tell,” she admitted. “I have my theories about some more of the townsfolk, for sure. A young woman came in while we were waiting for you. Dark hair, pretty. Wore a great suit. I get the feeling there’s more to her than meets the eye.”
“That sounds like the Mayor’s daughter,” said Belle slowly. “I guess If anyone’s at the centre of what’s going on in this town, it’s gotta be the Mayor.”
“Or our ancient bloodsucking friend,” said Mulan lightly. “What’s your next move with him gonna be? And don’t say blowing him.”
Belle shot her a flat look as Aurora giggled.
“As I said earlier, I’ll go to his shop. During the day.”
“You think he’ll be there?” asked Aurora sceptically. “I thought his kind were more the after-dark type.”
“I’m starting to rethink every preconception I ever had about his kind,” said Belle dryly.
“Just try and restrain yourself from banging his ass this time,” said Mulan, and yelped as Belle swatted her arm.
x
Once breakfast was over, they went out into the town, strolling along the streets and keeping a sharp eye out for anything that looked out of the ordinary. The townsfolk eyed them curiously, and Belle suspected that the waitress’s comment about few people choosing to stay was accurate. The people that they spoke to were friendly enough, but she noticed that some of them ducked out of sight rather than cross their paths. It made her think that perhaps there were more non-human residents than they had anticipated, and the curious part of her longed to speak to them all. Perhaps the reopened library would entice some of them in.
Mulan updated Belle on her suspicions about the owner of the diner, an old woman named Mrs Lucas. Her granddaughter was the waitress with the red streak in her hair, whose name was Ruby.
“And you think they’re werewolves?” said Belle, surprised. “What makes you suspect them?”
“Just a - a feeling,” admitted Mulan. “Like an itch between my shoulder blades, I can’t really explain it.”
“Also I checked the rotas,” put in Aurora, tossing back her hair. “Neither of them work over the full moon. At least not for the two months that were pinned up in the kitchen. I managed to sneak a look when I pretended to get lost looking for the restroom.”
“So for the moment we’re going with werewolves,” said Mulan. “But we’re open to other suggestions.”
“Ruby said there was a club in town,” said Aurora. “She seems nice. Maybe if we buy her a few drinks one night she’ll tell us. It’s not as though we mean them any harm.”
“She may not see things that way,” said Belle. “We can certainly try, though. Anyone else?”
“Not yet,” said Mulan. “It’s hard to tell who might be casting a glamour, so we’ll need to try one of those spells we discussed if we want to pick up on that.”
“It can wait until we’re settled, I guess.”
Belle stopped on the sidewalk, bouncing on her toes and chewing her lip as she glanced across the street. Across from them was a shop, gold lettering in the window announcing its owner: Mr Gold: Pawnbroker & Antiquities Dealer. She raised her chin.
“Okay,” she said decidedly. “The sign says it’s open. I’m going in.”
“You sure?” said Aurora. “You want us to come too?”
“No,” said Belle quickly. “No, it’s fine. I think he responds best to the one-on-one approach.”
“Yeah, and we know how that ends up…”
“I’m not gonna sleep with him in his shop!” snapped Belle. “I just meant - I was the one to make the deal with him, that’s all. I’m going to see if he’s interested in giving me something other than sarcasm.”
“You’re just leaving yourself wide open for innuendo here,” said Mulan, grinning at her.
“Oh my God…”
“Okay, we’ll stop teasing,” said Aurora, and shrugged. “Probably.”
“Go find your apartment,” said Belle firmly. “I’ll go and see if he’s in the mood to talk. We can meet at the library at one, what do you say?”
“We’ll bring lunch,” said Mulan. “See you later. And be careful. No stupid risks, got it?”
“Yes, Mom,” said Belle meekly, and Mulan rolled her eyes.
Aurora took her hand, and the two of them set off down the street as Belle turned her attention back to the pawnshop, chewing her lip again somewhat nervously. She couldn’t see him through the window, but she knew he was there. She wondered if he could sense her out there in the street, watching for him. If he could smell her scent in the air. An image flitted through her mind of how he had looked in the darkness, teeth and eyes gleaming as he pushed inside her, and she blushed, shoving the memory away.
Squaring her shoulders, she glanced both ways and crossed the street, striding purposefully and reaching out to grasp the handle of the shop door. She pushed it open without breaking her stride, a bell above tinkling merrily, and burst into the shop. At first glance it appeared empty, but then a curtain behind the counter was pushed aside, and Gold walked through from the back room, his eyes locking onto hers. He was in a dark grey three-piece suit, his shirt midnight blue silk with a grey tie knotted at his throat. A rhythmic tapping near his feet indicated that he was using that gold-handled ebony cane to walk, and she presumed it was an affectation; he certainly didn’t need it, as far as she was aware. The thought occurred to her that it was part of his image, that it made him seem weaker, less threatening. A lure to draw in his prey. As though he could read her mind, he laid the cane carefully on the counter, placing both hands on the glass and pushing up on the tips of his fingers.
“Miss French,” he drawled, smiling his dark smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Belle marched up to face him, fumbling in her bag until she felt the cool silver of the enchanted cuff. She drew it out, slapping it onto the counter, and Gold eyed it briefly before glancing back at her. The corner of his mouth pulled upwards in a faint smirk.
“What, no warm words of greeting?” he said silkily. “I’m hurt. I thought that we might have moved beyond a purely transactional relationship.”
“I’m just trying to keep to the terms of the deal,” she said stiffly. “I get the feeling that’s important to you.”
He held her gaze for a moment, dark eyes inscrutable, then looked down at the cuff. Reaching out very deliberately, he picked it up between thumb and forefinger, and turned away from her a moment. She watched him fumble with the cuff of his shirt, and when he turned back and tented his fingers on the counter once more, she could just see the silvery edge of the cuff around his wrist.
“The deal stands,” he said softly. “Do you feel better now? Safer?”
“Mulan says I shouldn’t trust you,” she said, and his smile widened.
“Mulan is very wise.”
“But you’ll hold to our deal?”
He pressed a hand to his heart.
“I’m a man of my word.”
“Good.”
She took a step back, glancing around the shop. Shelves of shining, dark wood filled the walls, each stacked with a myriad of items. At first their placement seemed haphazard, but as she looked closer she could see a certain logic to it. Delicate porcelain tea sets sat beside gleaming glassware, brass instruments were tucked in by antique cameras in leather cases, and jewel-bright lamps sent out coloured light to catch on the facets of crystal decanters. Slim, tall shelving units near the counter were filled with old books with leather covers or shining dust jackets, scuffed at the edges. Her eyes widened with interest, and if it had been an ordinary antique shop, with an ordinary proprietor, she could have spent hours in there.
“See something you like?”
His voice was low and a little rough, making her shiver, and she tightened her jaw, pushing away the memory of his hands on her and the taste of his mouth. She turned on her toes to face him, taking a breath.
“I don’t need antiques,” she said abruptly. “I’m after information.”
Gold tutted softly, soft hair gleaming in the light.
“So you just thought you’d skip the foreplay entirely?” he said quietly. “And here I was looking forward to a little verbal sparring.”
“Trading insults may be how you get your kicks,” she said stiffly. “Not me.”
His grin became knowing, white teeth gleaming.
“Oh, I think I know how you get your kicks.”
Belle rolled her eyes as her cheeks flushed.
“Are you going to give me the information, or not?”
Gold raised an eyebrow.
“What do I get out of it?” he asked. "Other than your utter disdain and the dubious pleasure of your company."
“We already made a deal!” she protested.
“Yes.” He held up his wrist. “Which I’m keeping to.”
“But - I said I wanted information from you,” she said.
“That was not the deal we made.”
“The deal we made was—” Belle thought quickly, trying to recall the exact words.
“You did offer me some of your blood in exchange for information, Miss French,” he said. “A tempting proposition, to be sure. But I turned you down.”
Belle rifled through her memories of their discussion, and felt her heart sink.
“The deal we made was a mutual - binding - as it were,” he went on. “Surely you haven’t forgotten already? I seem to recall being quite memorable.”
She wanted to growl as she recalled their conversation. The bastard was right. She had been so eager to get him to agree to wear the cuff that she had omitted to specifically ask for the provision of information. Gold was grinning at her.
“Quite the negotiator,” he said softly. “I have a feeling that if I tried to sell you something I could charge double and you wouldn’t notice. Easily distracted, are we?”
“It can be hard to maintain focus when there’s a killer in your bedroom,” she said dryly.
“Especially when you have an itch that needs scratching by said killer, yes?”
She ignored that.
“Alright then,” she said, raising her chin. “I want to make another deal.”
Gold let out a breath, a low, rumbling sound that made her squeeze her thighs together.
“What makes you think I’m interested in what you have to offer?” he said lazily. “You’re very lovely, but I find it easy to control my appetites. Unlike you, it appears.”
“I didn’t come over here for a booty call!” she snapped. “I’m doing research!”
“Your methods are unorthodox,” he remarked, drumming long fingers on the counter. “I imagine there’s not much scope for funding in your chosen area.”
“If all you have to offer me is sarcasm, I think we’re done,” she said shortly, and turned on her heel.
“Oh, very well,” he sighed. “What is your offer, Miss French?”
She turned slowly to face him. He was watching her, an expectant look on his face. A clock ticked on the wall behind him, brass pendulum swinging back and forth, and she licked her lips.
“We can discuss terms, if you like,” she said. “For my part, I want information. On you, and on this town and its inhabitants.”
He sucked his teeth, eyes flicking over her.
“I won’t reveal the secrets of my fellow townsfolk,” he said finally. “They are not mine to tell.”
“And the rest?”
“What, do you want a tour of the town, or something?”
“I can find my own way around,” she said. “But - well, I guess it would help if you could tell me any areas of interest. Places to avoid, for example.”
“What else?”
“I want to know about you,” she said. “The - the times you lived through. Who you were before - this.” She gestured up and down his frame, and he pulled a face.
“I might be persuaded to tell you of my life,” he allowed. “A little, anyway.”
“How little are we talking?”
“I’ll tell you what I feel comfortable divulging,” he said. “How about that?”
“And if that turns out to be nothing?”
He smiled.
“Well, that’s a risk you’ll have to take, isn’t it?” he said softly. “And we both know how you like to take risks.”
Belle thought it over. Any information he could give her would be a bonus, as far as she was concerned, and she couldn’t help but be intrigued by what he might tell her of his long life, and who he had been before. She leaned on the counter, mirroring his pose, her face mere inches from his. From that distance she could smell his cologne, drifting into her nose, scents of spice and wood and musk that made her abdomen clench. Or perhaps it was his dark eyes, staring into hers, unblinking. She wondered if he could hear her thumping heart.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “What do you want in return?”
“Well, I thought we could start with dinner.”
She blinked, surprised.
“What?”
“I believe I owe you one,” he said. “You agreed to it before, and - well, we got rather distracted, didn’t we?”
He was grinning at her, and it made her want to slap his face. She arched a brow at him.
“Dinner,” she said flatly. “Do you actually eat? I mean stuff other than blood?”
The grin became toothy
“You of all people should know that I eat - many other things.”
“Dammit, Gold!” She definitely wanted to slap him, but satisfied herself with a glare. “And you promise this will actually be a dinner, not just a glass of wine before sex?”
He pressed a hand to his heart with a wounded expression.
“If you insist.”
“Then fine,” she said ungraciously. “Tonight at eight. And don’t think you’re coming to my place.”
“Of course not,” he said dryly. “For all I know you’d redecorate and accidentally open a portal to a hell dimension. You can come to my place instead.”
“Which is where?”
“My house is at the end of Misthaven Drive,” he said. “You can’t miss it.”
“And do I need to bring anything?”
“Other than your lovely, suspicious self?” he said, with a wry grin. “Not a thing. I’ll cook.”
“You can cook?” said Belle flatly, and he rolled his eyes.
“When you’re immortal, you have a lot of time to learn things,” he said. “I assure you my skills extend beyond the bedroom.”
“I’m sure you think they do.”
Her tone was dry, and Gold gave her a twisted smile, his shoulder rising a little as he leaned in until his nose almost brushed hers.
“Oh, I’m sorry, didn’t you have fun?” he asked softly.
Belle pushed back, heart thudding in her chest.
“I’ll have dinner with you,” she said, her voice shaking a little. “I’m not agreeing to anything else. And I want the information from you in return.”
“Very well,” he said lightly. “A pleasant evening of food, wine and conversation it is, then.”
“Good.”
“Absolutely no sex to speak of.”
“That’s right.”
“Then I’ll see you at eight,” he said, and pushed up from the counter. “The deal is struck. Good day, Miss French.”
He picked up the cane and turned away, pushing aside the curtain that led to the back room and letting it fall behind him, and Belle scowled in frustration before stomping out of the shop. He was an irritating little shit, but she suspected he would be a goldmine of information. She just had to get him to offer some up.
x
Gold heard the tinkle of the shop bell as she left, and allowed himself a tiny smirk as he glanced between the two people that were perched on one of his benches. Cruella was grinning, sleepy-eyed as she leaned against Jefferson’s shoulder, and Jefferson himself was sprawled on the bench, leather-clad legs spread wide as he sipped at a cup of tea.
“So,” said Cruella. “That’s your horny librarian, hmm?”
“This isn’t a porn movie, dearie,” he said patiently. “She may have the librarian post as a cover, but try to remember she’s a monster-hunter.”
“So, that’s your horny monster-hunter?”
Gold sighed, reaching for his tea as Jefferson chuckled.
“We took a peek through the curtain while you were arguing,” he said. “She’s pretty, Gold.”
“Far prettier than you,” added Cruella.
“I don’t need to be pretty,” he growled, and she chortled.
“Whoever told you that?”
He ignored her, taking a sip of his tea, and Jefferson pursed his lips, looking thoughtful.
“She doesn’t seem all that enamoured with you, based on that conversation,” he remarked. “How are you gonna play this? It seems kind of ill-mannered to invite her over for dinner and then make her the main course.”
“Although that is a classic,” put in Cruella. “One should never ignore the classics. We have a reputation to uphold, after all.”
“I have no plans to kill her,” he said. “She doesn’t appear to pose a threat at this time. If that changes, I’m adaptable, but at the moment she seems more interested in getting information from me.”
“And you’re willing to give it up in exchange for a quick shag?” Her tone was dry, and he grinned.
“What makes you think it’d be quick?”
She sniffed, tossing back her blonde hair.
“Please, spare me your arrogance,” she said. “I just don’t want to find that you’ve spilled all our secrets as part of some desperate ploy to get a blowjob.”
“It’s not as though I have to go begging,” he snapped. “Besides, I already told her there would be a limit to the information I could give her. She wanted to know about my past.”
“And you’ll tell her, will you?”
Gold shrugged, taking another sip of tea.
“Within reason.”
“What’s that around your wrist?” asked Jefferson curiously, and Gold’s mouth flattened as he set down his cup.
“Nothing.”
“Looks like a bracelet,” said Cruella. “Doesn’t go with your outfit, darling.”
“Did she give that to you?” asked Jefferson, interested, and reached for it. Gold jerked his arm away, slipping the silver cuff from his wrist and into his jacket pocket.
“She did.” Jefferson’s grin widened. “You two reached the gift exchange point in your relationship. How cute!”
“We don’t have a relationship.” Gold hesitated, wondering why he had ever agreed to wear the bloody thing in the first place. “It’s a—”
“Human-vampire friendship bracelet?” asked Cruella, with a snicker.
“It’s part of a deal I made with her,” he said stiffly.
“What kind of deal?”
“I agreed to wear it in her presence, that’s all,” he said, hearing the impatience in his voice. “It has magic, designed to keep her safe.”
“Yes, but why would she ask you to—” Her voice cut off, her eyes widening. “Oh my! She put a leash on you!”
“That’s not what this is!” he snapped, shaking back his hair.
“A muzzle, then,” she purred, and pouted at him. “What a good boy!”
“Shut up!”
“Man, she made you her pet!” chuckled Jefferson. “Oh, that’s gotta sting!”
“I’m no one’s pet!” he said coldly. “I agreed to wear the thing in return for her surrendering to me for the evening. It was a mutually-beneficial arrangement, nothing more.”
“And yet you still have it.”
“The deal is ongoing,” he said. “Why do you think I asked her to dinner?”
“I heard her say no sex,” said Cruella slyly, and Gold smirked.
“We’ll see.”
x
Belle strode quickly back to the library, arms pumping as she tried to work off her irritation. God, he’s annoying! How he’s survived all this time without someone just putting a stake through his heart for funsies is beyond me!
The library was dark and cold when she let herself in, and she flicked on the lights, running her eyes over the bookshelves. There was just under an hour to wait until Mulan and Aurora turned up, so she decided to start sorting through the books and checking the catalogue. She was planning on reopening the place within a week, but she wanted to restock, and she opened up her computer and started compiling a list of the titles she wanted. The discarded books were stacked into boxes, ready to be donated.
Mulan and Aurora arrived right on time, bringing burgers from Granny’s and large takeout cups of coffee. They ate their lunch in the apartment, clustered around the kitchen table where the roses Gold had brought her still sat in their vase.
“So.” Mulan reached for a couple of fries. “What did he tell you?”
“Not much,” said Belle gloomily. “But I’m going over to his place tonight. He says he’s willing to give me some information on his old life.”
“Seriously?” she said flatly. “A date?”
“It’s not a date,” said Belle patiently. “It’s - well, okay, it’s dinner, but it’s not a date.”
“What are you having, blood sausage?”
“Hilarious,” said Belle dryly. “I don’t know. He says he’ll cook.”
“What do vampires eat other than people, then?”
“I guess I’ll find out.” She took a bite of her burger, chewing and swallowing. “He wore the cuff, though, so he’s keeping to the deal. What did you guys find out?”
“Well, I have an interview at the hospital tomorrow,” said Aurora. “From what I hear it should just be a formality. They’re desperate for nurses and the money’s great.”
“And we have three apartments to view this afternoon,” added Mulan. “So things are moving on that front.”
“The real estate agents were nice,” said Aurora. “Ursula and Ariel. They have a place together down by the harbour. We got another invitation to this club - I think it was called The Rabbit Hole? Maybe we should check it out.”
“I’m in,” said Belle. “Tonight’s out, but we could go tomorrow?”
“Good call,” said Mulan, dipping her fries into ketchup. “I get the feeling some of the town’s residents are friendlier than others. We should be able to get some decent intel, if we’re careful.”
“I suppose I’ll make a start tonight,” said Belle, with a sigh. “We’ll see what Gold has to give me.”
“What are you gonna wear?” asked Aurora. “That blue dress is nice. Brings out your eyes and makes your boobs look awesome.”
“Yes, let’s try to attract the dangerous vampire, shall we?” said Mulan. “Don’t encourage her, babe.”
“Hasn’t he already seen everything anyway?” said Aurora dismissively. “She can still look nice while eating dinner with a serial killer, just saying.”
“As long as the dress has pockets big enough to hold a weapon, I’m okay with it,” said Mulan. “Which means that everything except the yellow dress is out.”
“No no, that’s for summer, it has to be either the blue or the green,” said Aurora.
“I really think safety has to trump seasonal colour schemes, here.”
“Sacrifices must be made for the sake of fashion,” said Aurora, tossing back her hair. “Besides, we both know that whatever he’s cooking isn’t gonna be the only thing on the menu. I’m guessing one plate of amuse-bouches and he spreads her out on the table.”
“Right here,” said Belle, in a very dry tone. “I’m sitting right here, listening to every word you guys say.”
Aurora grinned at her.
“Wear the blue dress,” she said firmly. “Use the weapons you got.”
“And take an actual weapon,” added Mulan. “Shove it up his ass if he looks at you wrong.”
Belle sighed.
x
In the end she did wear the blue dress, her breasts pushed high in a padded black bra with a matching lace thong. She decided on bare legs, despite the cold weather, her feet tucked into closed-toe heels in burgundy to match the thin belt at her waist. A fitted black wool coat kept the wind from her as she got out of Aurora’s car and glanced up and down the street. Her phone had led them to this place, the car inching along through fallen leaves as they searched for Gold’s house. Misthaven Drive was on the edge of town, a broad, winding road with a few large houses set back at the end of long driveways. He had said his house was at the end, and they found it, a large Victorian with steps leading to a porch, its front door surrounded by panels of coloured glass.
“Okay,” she said, a little nervously. “I guess this is it.”
“You want us to wait for you?” asked Mulan, from the passenger seat, and Belle hesitated.
“No,” she said eventually. “No, I’ll call you.”
“Keep your phone turned on,” said Aurora. “We’ll check in on you, got it?”
Belle got out of the car, closing the door with a thump and glancing back at them before she headed to the house and up the path. Warm light came from inside the house, spilling out into the dark of the night, and she slowly mounted the steps, her heart thumping in her chest. She knocked on the door, hearing the faint strains of classical music from within, which grew louder as the door opened to reveal Gold, jacket off and shirtsleeves rolled up, a dish towel over his shoulder. The silver cuff gleamed at his wrist, and he grinned at the sight of her, a wicked glint in his eyes.
Last time, Belle had just made a deal with Gold for him to wear a protective silver cuff in return for her letting him tie her to the bed with his tie and do wicked things to her body...
[Part 1] [Part 2]
AO3 link
Gold eyed her for a moment, then set down the cuff, pushing to his feet and walking slowly around the edge of the circle to the corner of the room. Belle watched him light the candles that sat there in their group of three, and turned her head to follow him with her eyes as he crossed to the other corner and lit the candles there. A soft glow began to spread through the room, highlighting his features, making the shadows of his eyes and cheeks darker and deeper as he walked back to the chair and sat down, facing her. He lifted his chin, fixing her with his eyes as he slowly raised one hand and crooked a finger.
“Come here,” he whispered.
She wondered how easy it would be for him to break through the circle. There was a tingle of fear running through her as she realised that they had only assumed that the barrier would work to keep a dark presence out as well as fence it in. It made her doubt her abilities with the cuff, even though the spell used on it had previously been tried and tested. Perhaps it would render him unconscious, as the last vampire had been. Perhaps they had altered the spell too much, and it wouldn't work at all. She began feverishly running through translations in her head, trying to work out if she and Aurora had missed anything with their casting.
“Now, if you please, Miss French.”
Belle started, and pushed aside the blankets, slipping from the bed. Earlier that evening she had thrown on an old New England Patriots jersey that her father had bought her, and which was one of her favourite things to wear to bed, but the room was cold on her bare legs. The wooden floor was even colder, and a little rough beneath her toes, and she made her way to the foot of the bed to stand before him, trying not to shiver.
“Take off the shirt,” he said quietly.
Belle sucked in a breath, looking down at herself. Her hands shook a little as she grasped the hem of the football jersey, tugging it up over her head and tossing it aside, leaving her naked. Gold pursed his lips, looking her over very deliberately. It felt as though his fingers were tracing over the curves of her breasts and sliding between her legs, and she shuddered as he licked his lips.
“Beautiful,” he said softly.
He bent to unlace his shoes, never taking his eyes off hers. She watched as he took off the shoes and socks, and then his cufflinks, flashes of gold in the candlelight and faint clinks as they went into his jacket pocket. Cold air raised goosebumps on her skin, her nipples hardening with the chill, and she wanted to snap at him to hurry the fuck up. He smirked, as though he could read her mind, and suddenly rose to his feet, making her instinctively want to take a step back. She squared her jaw, standing her ground, and Gold’s smile widened as he shrugged off his jacket.
“Nervous?”
“No,” she lied. “Should I be?”
“You tell me,” he said. “You are the one who’s made such a - study - of me and my kind, after all.”
The waistcoat was unbuttoned next, slipping from his shoulders to join the jacket over the back of the chair, and she raised her chin.
“Well, I’m starting to reevaluate my initial findings in the light of compelling new evidence,” she said, and he showed his teeth.
“A true scientist.” He plucked open the buttons of his shirt, finger and thumb working their way down to his belly. “I’d be fascinated to hear your observations. Is there a working hypothesis?”
“Other than that you’re a dramatic, self-congratulatory little shit?”
Gold sucked in a breath and flicked his hair back, looking amused.
“Well, well,” he said quietly. “Sounds as though you resent me, Miss French. Already regretting the deal, are we?”
“Can we just get on with it?” she said impatiently. “I’m freezing.”
“Are you so eager for my touch?”
“Hardly,” she said flatly. “I just want to get this over with so I can get what I want.”
Gold grinned.
“And here I was thinking those two things were one and the same.”
“Wow.” She folded her arms, giving him a very level look. “You really think you’re God’s gift to orgasms, huh?”
“I don’t think I’m God’s gift to anything,” he remarked. “Put your arms down.”
Belle growled under her breath, but obeyed, putting her hands on her hips and tapping her foot.
“I presume you want to use protection?” he said, and she frowned, curiosity needling her.
“What’s the story for you on that front?” she asked. “I always wondered.”
He rolled his eyes a little, tugging the shirt from his pants. His chest was thin and pale, the low light finding out shadows between his ribs, and she ran her eyes over him, remembering how he had felt pressing down on her.
“You’re safe from me, Miss French,” he said. “No diseases, nothing to pass on, no unwanted patter of tiny half-demon feet nine months from now, I assure you. That’s an unexpected bonus of this - existence.”
“Oh.” She was silent for a moment. “Well. In that case it’s up to you. There are condoms in the drawer, if you want.”
Gold nodded, He turned to the dresser, opening up one of the drawers and taking out a couple of condoms.
“Given what you got up to with my bodily fluids last time, I think I won’t be taking any chances,” he remarked, tossing them to her, and she rolled her eyes as she caught them one-handed.
“Suit yourself.”
“I usually do.”
“God, you’re a pain in the arse!” she snapped, and he grinned.
“That only comes when you beg for it.”
“Dammit!” She wanted to throw something at him. Irritating little shit. Taking his sweet time about this, too. “Gold, I’m freezing my butt off here.”
“And a delightful butt it is.” He shrugged off the shirt, draping it over the back of the chair and unbuckling his belt. “I thought you might relish a little anticipation. I always felt it adds a little something.”
“Right now all it’s adding is frostbite.”
“And you call me dramatic,” he drawled. “Patience, Miss French. We’re almost there.”
She grumbled under her breath, and his grin widened as he took off his pants and underwear in one and put the rest of his clothes on the chair behind him. He turned back to face her, leaning against the barrier with his palms flat. He was already hard, and she pulled her eyes away from his groin, drawing them up his lean body, trailing over the faint lines of muscles and ribs, the dark points of his nipples, the hollow at the base of his throat. His nostrils were flaring, as though he was trying to catch the scent of her, and she wondered how acute his senses were, whether they were merely human, or whether he could pick her scent out in a crowd of hundreds. A violet light limned his hands, pulsing a little as he pressed down, and she licked her lips as his eyes bored into hers, hair just brushing his cheekbones. The barrier didn’t break, and Belle squared her chin.
“So,” she said. “Looks like you’re locked out, hmm?”
Gold stared at her for a moment, and one corner of his mouth pulled upwards, his eyes gleaming. He leaned back a little, lifting his hands away from the barrier, and pressed one fingertip against it, drawing the outline of a heart with an arrow through it in thin lines of violet light. Belle gave him a flat look, unimpressed, and his grin widened.
He raised his hands again, and surged forwards, pushing against the barrier, streaks of light flaring outwards from the points of impact. Belle stepped back on one foot, eyes widening, and he slammed against the barrier again, and then again, lips drawn back over pointed teeth in a snarl. She could feel her heart thumping hard, the urge to flee almost overwhelming, and at his next blow the barrier seemed to burst in a bloom of light, disappearing as he staggered towards her, eyes flashing with dark fire.
He seized her around the waist, pulling her hard against him as he bent his head to kiss her, and Belle rose up on her toes as his tongue pushed into her mouth. Gold walked her backwards until she was pressed up against the bed, the metal frame cold against her buttocks, the kiss hard and raw and savage, and Belle tore her mouth away, gasping for breath.
“The cuff!” she protested.
His mouth was on her throat, open and wet, but he seemed to calm a little at her words, nose nuzzling her ear, lips trailing along her jaw, and he released her to step back and pick up the silver cuff from the dresser. She watched, trying to catch her breath as he slipped it onto his wrist. His eyes closed, and he inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. At least he wasn’t unconscious. Their alterations to the spell had worked so far, it seemed.
“Are - are you okay?” she asked nervously.
His eyes flicked open, black as pitch, glinting in the candlelight, and she felt her heart thump as the tip of his tongue swept over his lips, as though he would catch the taste of her. He opened and closed his fingers a few times, the muscles of his arm twitching, the cuff fitting snugly around his wrist, and reached for his silk tie, drawing it slowly across one palm before pulling it tight between clenched fists. Light gleamed on the silk, a faint sheen, and she licked her lips, heart thudding in her chest. Gold raised his chin.
“On the bed,” he said quietly.
His voice was a low rasp, a sound that made her breath catch and her belly tighten, fingers of desire stroking over her skin and making it tingle with anticipation. She slipped away from him, climbing onto the bed and lying back against the pillows, the cotton cool against her skin. Gold walked slowly towards her, and she gazed up at the ceiling, her heart thumping with a combination of apprehension and arousal. She felt the bed give with his weight, sinking beneath his knees as he climbed on, and she closed her eyes, the scent of him drifting into her nose as he leaned over her, his knees on the right hand side of her body.
“Arms above your head,” he said softly.
She reached up obediently, stretching above her head, and jumped a little as she felt his hands on her wrists, the softness of silk wrapping around them in a figure-eight. Gold then looped the tie around one of the steel bars of the bed frame, and tied it off around her wrists with a double knot. She felt him lift away from her, then straddle her with his knees, the heels of his hands pressing down into the pillow either side of her head.
“Too tight?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Good. Open your eyes.”
Belle let her eyes flick open to see him staring down at her. Candlelight traced the sides of his face and the lines of his nose and jaw, his hair haloed with a golden glow, his eyes dark pits. She licked her lips, and he smiled slightly.
“And so we begin.”
His voice was soft and full of promise, and he bent to kiss her, lips gently brushing against hers, tongue slipping in between her lips and stroking. Belle opened her mouth for him, letting her tongue touch his, feeling the brief scratch of his stubble as his chin rubbed against hers. He deepened the kiss, and she moaned a little, shifting on the bed, her breasts just brushing against his chest. Gold pulled back, their lips parting with a soft, wet sound, and he let his mouth trail along her jaw, his nose brushing her ear. Belle shivered as he pressed his lips to her throat, the tip of his tongue gently touching her skin, stroking over her, tasting her. A frisson of fear rippled through her; she had left herself vulnerable, exposed, his mouth on her throat. He could kill her without blinking, could sink his teeth into her and tear out her throat and drink her dry, and only Mulan and Aurora would know the truth of her fate. It made her heart thump rapidly, and she felt him smile against her neck.
“I said I wouldn’t hurt you, remember?” he murmured. “I keep my word, Miss French.”
His tongue flickered out, swirling in a wet circle over her pulse point, and Belle moaned, relaxing a little as he moved down the bed, his knees moving in between her legs. His words had soothed her, calmed her, and she felt a little better about being tied to the bed and at his mercy. Surprising as it seemed, she trusted him not to hurt her. At least as long as their deal held. She wondered how the cuff was affecting him. Whether it would inhibit him in any way, or affect his stamina. It certainly hadn’t rendered him impotent, if the feel of his cock against her thigh was anything to go by.
He kissed lower, shifting down the bed, his mouth trailing over the curve of her breast, and she moaned as his tongue swept across her nipple, sending a jolt of sensation through her. He sucked the nipple in between his lips, rubbing his tongue over it, and Belle moaned, pushing up into his mouth. Cold fingers walked their way up over her belly to cup her other breast, and she cried out as he pinched the nipple. Gold sucked at her, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger, making it pucker and harden, and Belle squeezed her thighs together, flexing her feet as the sensations shot down to her groin.
He raised his head, holding her gaze as he drew his tongue across from one breast to the other, and she licked her lips, breathing hard, her chest heaving as he sucked at her. His hand squeezed her breast, pale flesh bulging in his fingers, his tongue sweeping over her, wet and dark against her milky skin. She could feel herself tensing, a low tugging in her belly signalling her need for him, and as though he could sense it, he looked up. A smile curved his mouth, his eyes glinting wickedly, and he lowered his head to her, kissing his way down over the flat of her belly, his tongue moving in loops and swirls on her skin and dipping into her navel. Belle let her head roll back against the pillows as he slipped lower, his hands pushing her legs apart. His nose nudged at her inner thigh, and she felt her heart thump as his hair brushed against her sensitive skin.
Gold kissed the inner wall of her right thigh, her skin as soft and smooth as silk. He could sense her arousal, her need, could smell the scent of her in the air, and he ran the tip of his nose up to the crease at the top of her leg, inhaling deeply. She was nervous, he could sense it, a touch of fear mixed in with her desire, and it was intoxicating. Long fingers splayed on her thighs, and he gently pushed her legs further apart, raising his head to gaze at the soft pink flesh of her sex. She was wet and glistening, ripe and ready, and he licked his lips, nuzzling the soft cleft between her legs. Belle let out a tiny squeak of surprise at the first touch of his tongue, and he groaned at the taste of her, her flavour spreading over his lips.
His tongue pushed in between her folds, licking soft, wet flesh, circling the hard bud of her clit, making her moan and push her hips upwards. She was delicious, and he longed to taste her pleasure when she came, to spread her scent over his skin and swallow her down. He slid a hand further up her thigh, one finger gently stroking the wet petals of flesh, teasing her entrance, and she moaned again, her legs opening a little wider. He pushed the finger inside, sliding deep, her body hot and wet, gripping him tightly.
Another finger slipped in beside the first, opening her up, and his tongue swirled over her. Belle let out a cry, her hips rising and falling, keeping pace with his rhythm, and he slowly thrust the fingers in and out of her, his hips moving in tiny circles, rubbing his groin against the bed to get a little relief. His cock was hard and straining, every scrape of the blankets against it a sensual pleasure, and he yearned to be inside her, to sink deep and fuck her hard.
Belle was arching her back, her moans growing in pitch and volume, and he thrust his fingers into her, his tongue flickering over her clit. She was close, so close, her body drawing up tight as she chased her climax, her breath coming in pants, and he quickened the pace a little, the flat of his tongue rubbing over her.
“Oh, yes!” she whispered. “Yes!”
He wanted to grin, but he kept up the pace, licking, rubbing, thrusting, until her moans grew loud and desperate. Almost there. Placing a kiss to her, he withdrew his fingers, pulling back, and Belle let out a squeak of surprise at the sudden loss of sensation. Gold knelt up, enjoying the way her cheeks had flushed, her breasts rising and falling as her chest heaved. Her eyes had narrowed in confusion.
“Would you excuse me for a moment?” he asked, with a grin, and she blinked.
“What?”
He pushed off the bed, and her confusion appeared to grow.
“What—” She opened and closed her mouth. “What are you doing?”
He waved a dismissive hand.
“I’ll be back momentarily.”
He heard her growl something uncomplimentary, and grinned to himself as he left the room, the floor cold beneath his bare feet. Sucking her fluids from his fingers, he headed for the kitchen, noting that the bottle of wine they had started drinking the previous night was still open and unfinished. Pouring himself a glass, he took a swallow, letting the rich flavour run down his throat.
“You get back here right now, Gold!”
His grin widened, and he took another drink, sauntering back through to the bedroom with the glass swinging from his fingertips. Belle was glaring at him from the bed, eyes flashing darkly in the low light. Her arms were stretched above her head, her breasts soft peaks and her belly pulled taut. Delicious.
“What the hell was that?” she demanded.
“I was thirsty.”
“That makes two of us!”
Gold glanced at his wine glass, then back at the kitchen.
“Well, I could get you a glass, if—”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”
He took a slow sip, savouring the taste of the wine, and sat down on the edge of the bed, enjoying her fierce glare. One hand reached out, gently caressing her cheek, running down to cup her breast, his thumb brushing over the nipple, and Belle sucked in a breath. Gold smiled, taking another drink, and then tipped his glass, letting a thin trickle of red wine splash onto the top of her chest. It ran along the pale valley between her breasts in a line of dark red, like a bead of fresh blood, and he bent his head to chase it with his tongue. Belle moaned as he licked her, and he straightened up again, taking another sip.
“You sure you don’t want some?”
“Gold!”
“Oh, very well,” he sighed, getting up, and set down the glass on her dresser. “Where were we?”
Belle scowled at him, and he couldn’t help grinning as he climbed onto the bed.
“My apologies,” he murmured, as he kissed her hip. “Let’s start again.”
He could hear her breathing quicken as he kissed across the top of her thigh, his tongue flicking out to brush against her skin. The muscles of her inner thigh twitched at the touch of his lips, and he let the tip of his nose trail across to where she was hot and wet. One finger reached up to gently brush through slick flesh, and Belle let out a moan. He slipped the finger into his mouth, closing his eyes in pleasure at the flavour of her, then let the finger slide out and gently pushed it inside her as he bent his head to taste her again.
Belle gasped, legs opening wider, back arching, and he slipped a second finger inside her, pushing deep as his tongue stroked over her clit. She tasted delicious, and he wanted to make her come, to drink her nectar, to bathe in it. His anger with her had faded, her attempts to imprison him now causing nothing more than amusement, and he was impressed by her bravery in agreeing to be tied down. Or was it her recklessness? That could be a danger to her, given the life she had chosen and the creatures she hunted. Not his problem, he supposed. For now, he was content to give her pleasure and take his own. He could feel her body stiffening as she neared her climax, and grinned to himself, letting his tongue swirl in a circle.
“Is that good?” he whispered.
She moaned an affirmation, and he thrust his fingers in and out of her, her juices spreading over his hand, his thumb rubbing at her clit in between flicks of his tongue. He could hear her breathing grow ragged, her muscles tightening, and her moans grew louder, tailing off with a frustrated cry as he pulled his fingers from her.
“Gold, are you kidding me?”
He pushed himself up on his hands, grinning down at her. Belle was staring at him in outrage, her chest heaving, and so he kissed his way up her belly, spreading her delicious scent. He sucked at a nipple, pinching the other between finger and thumb and making her cry out. Reaching to the side, he found one of the condoms she had dropped on the bed, and kissed up to her neck, rolling off her to lie by her side while he tore open the packet and slipped it on. It would be wonderful to be inside her without it, to feel nothing between them, but he didn’t trust her not to use his leavings for some other spell he hadn’t thought of. She was clever enough for that.
“Almost ready,” he whispered in her ear. “Are you ready, Belle!”
“Yes!”
She sounded frustrated, and it made him grin. He ran a hand down her body, over the flat of her belly and between her legs. She was wonderfully wet with his saliva and the slippery heat of her own juices, and his fingers slid inside her easily, his thumb gently rubbing in a circle and making her moan. His lips brushed her ear, and he smiled as he felt a shiver go through her.
“You feel incredible,” he whispered. “Soft as silk. Beautiful.”
She gasped, lifting her hips a little, her arms shifting as she tugged at the silk binding her wrists. Gold drew his tongue along the pale length of her upper arm, nipping his way back down to nuzzle at her armpit as his fingers slid in and out of her. Belle had pulled her legs together, her thighs clamping around his hand, increasing the friction as he pushed and thrust, and he could feel her body shaking with the tension as she let him work her up towards the orgasm he would deny her. She was rocking her hips up and down in a rhythm, perspiration gleaming on her upper lip, her lips plump and parted and glistening from the pass of her tongue, and she flicked her eyes to his, her cheeks flushed.
“Oh God, please!” she whispered.
He grinned, his fingers hard, rigid, pushing inside her. Belle threw her head back with a loud moan of pleasure, pale breasts heaving, dark curls sticking to her skin. She was so, so close, and he longed to let her come, to let her fluids drown his fingers, to kiss his way back down between her legs and suck the cum from her. But not yet.
He pulled the fingers from her just as her moans became cries, and Belle let out a frustrated yowl, baring her teeth at him.
“You bastard!”
The fire in her voice made him grin widely.
“This is what we agreed, remember?”
She growled, but there was an edge of desperation to it, a frustrated whine, almost a weeping.
“Please!” she begged. “Please!”
He let his nose brush her cheek, nudging her ear and sending a shiver through her.
“Please what, my dear?” he whispered. “Please what?”
Belle swallowed hard, chest heaving, her body aching for release. She was tingling all over, frustration making her want to scream at him, but he was right. It was what they had agreed. She would have to ask for what she wanted, and he was waiting for it. Smug bastard. She licked her lips, remembering the reason for the deal in the first place. They would be on even terms once this was done, and she would get what she wanted from him. It wouldn’t hurt to give him what he wanted in return. Her surrender.
“Please,” she said meekly, “may I come?”
“You ask so nicely.” He pressed a kiss to her throat. “And yet so presumptuously. What did I say, Miss French? What did I say about letting you come?”
Belle moaned, part frustration and part arousal as she remembered his exact words, and felt him smile against her neck. He lifted his head a little, his mouth on her ear, making her shudder.
“I said I’d let you come when I could feel it,” he whispered. “When I was deep inside you. Am I inside you, Belle?”
“No!” she said, through gritted teeth.
“Then you have your answer.”
“So get inside me!”
“No.”
She growled her annoyance, pushing her pelvis upwards, and felt him smile again.
“Such impatience,” he crooned.
Belle arched her back as his fingers slowly pushed inside again, his thumb flicking over her clit. The fingers sank deep, hard and thick inside her, and she let out a tiny cry, wanting more. Gold drew his tongue up her throat, his lips brushing her ear.
“Do you want another?” he whispered.
“I want to come!”
His chuckle was deep and rich, and she wanted to snarl at him. Bastard, bastard, bastard! Next time I have to get him to write this crap down! Wait, no! No next time! Dammit, Belle!
“Do you want another?” he repeated.
“Yes, damn you to hell!”
“Oh my…” He tutted, shaking his head. “Far too late for that, dearest.”
He added a third finger, stretching her, filling her, and she moaned, pushing onto his hand. His tongue swirled over her skin again, sending shivers through her, and his lips found her ear.
“How does that feel, Belle?” he whispered. “Is that good? Is it enough?”
She moaned wordlessly, and he slipped the fingers out a little way, pushing back in with a wet, sucking noise.
“I can feel you squeezing me, pulling me,” he rasped. “Makes me want to put my cock inside you. Push it in deep and fuck you hard!”
His thumb rubbed over her clit, and she whimpered.
“I want to slide inside you and fuck you until you scream!” he breathed. “Do you want it, Belle?”
“Yes!” she moaned. “Please!”
“Please what, sweetheart?”
“Please!” she begged. “Please - fuck me! Fuck me hard!”
He let out a low growl, teeth nipping at her throat, and slowly drew the fingers out, sliding a knee between hers as he pushed up a little and took himself in hand. Belle moaned and writhed as he rubbed the head of his cock along her slick folds, sliding over her clit and sending jolts of sensation through her. She lifted her hips, trying to capture his cock with her flesh, gasping as he teased her entrance. The head eased inside, and he grasped her hips roughly, holding her in place, the silver cuff cold against her skin. His hair was hanging in his face, his eyes dark with lust, and he grinned at her, teeth shining in the candlelight as she hissed in frustration.
His fingers tightened on her hips, and he entered her so slowly it was almost painful, sinking into her with a low, guttural groan of pleasure. Belle arched upwards as she felt him fill her, wrapping her legs around his back. She wanted to touch him, to run her hands over his skin and feel him shiver at the pass of her fingers, to rake his scalp with her nails and twist his hair and tug him down to kiss her hard. Having her arms tied above her head, helpless as he teased her, was exquisite torture.
His hands slid up her body to cup her breasts, thumbs rubbing over her nipples, and he began to thrust with slow, circular movements of his hips, grinding against her. Belle threw her head back with a moan as sensations rippled through her, making her cheeks flush and her skin tingle. He was deep inside her, his cock wonderfully hard and thick, her flesh tugging at him as he moved in and out, and she let out a cry as he ground against her clit, heat and wetness causing delicious friction.
Gold drew his tongue up her throat, revelling in the feeling of being inside her, her heat almost scalding, her walls gripping him tight. He slid his hands up her arms, fingers lacing through hers and squeezing, and Belle pushed up against him, drawing her knees up as he thrust deep. Sweat was forming between her breasts and on her belly, the fluids where their bodies joined making their skin slippery, and his hands squeezed hers as he thrust in and out of her, moving his hips with shallow, circular movements to grind against her. Belle let out a tiny cry, her body stiffening, and he quickened his pace, his thrusts harder, rougher, pounding into her. She came with a scream, pumping her hips against him, her muscles clamping down on him, her thighs tightening around him, and the sensation was almost too much. He let out a long, low groan as he followed her, pleasure washing over him, his cock pulsing deep inside her.
Belle collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for breath, her skin tingling and her heart thumping rapidly. She could still feel him buried within her, gently pulsing a little, and she licked dry lips as he reached between them to grasp the base of the condom and slowly pull out of her. Gold lowered himself onto her, his weight almost comforting, his hands sliding up to cup her throat as his mouth found hers. He kissed her hungrily, his tongue still carrying the faint taste of her, his skin moist and sticky with her juices. Damp strands of his hair stuck to her face, and his lips pulled at hers as they kissed. Her wrists were hurting, the silk chafing her skin, and she opened her eyes as her breathing steadied.
He pushed up on his elbows, nuzzling her nose with his. She felt heavy-eyed and sleepy, and she murmured appreciation as he reached up to unpick the knot binding her wrists. It was a relief to put her arms down, and he took each of her hands, pressing his lips to her wrists before leaning in to kiss her very thoroughly on the mouth. She could feel him tugging the blankets from beneath her, moving them aside so that her back was against the cool cotton sheets, and he lay beside her and pulled her into his arms, letting her relax against him as he kissed the top of her head. Her body throbbed, part pain, part pleasure, and his hands gently stroked over her skin as she let out a heavy sigh. All too soon she felt him pull away, but she was too sleepy to care. Her eyes were closed, her body wonderfully warm and loose, and she barely felt him get out of the bed and throw the blankets over her.
“Goodnight, Miss French,” he said softly. “Until we meet again.”
x
She woke as the dawn light shining through the window was working its way across her bed in a narrow strip of gold. The chirps of birds were coming through the window, and the faint sound of passing cars on the street outside. Sitting up, she winced at the aches in her muscles, her shoulders stiff and her wrists still red where he had bound her. The cheerful sound of her phone ringtone made her jump, and she scowled at where her bag sat on the dresser, before sliding out of bed and going to retrieve her phone.
“Hello?” she said sleepily, shivering a little in the cold air.
“Oh good, you’re up,” said Mulan. “Thank goodness you’re okay, we were worried. I take it Gold didn’t come back?”
“Uh…” Belle bit her lip. “Uh - I’m fine. How did you guys sleep?”
“Yeah, fine,” said Mulan cheerfully. “We thought we’d do a little investigation today, see what else we can turn up. I’ve got my suspicions about the woman that owns this place, not gonna lie.”
“Really?” Belle was intrigued, and got back into bed to keep warm, pushing her hair out of her face as she worked her feet down into the warmth of the blankets. “What’s your theory?”
“Maybe we won’t know for sure until the next full moon,” said Mulan. “Which isn’t for another few weeks, so we have some time to figure out if I’m right. She doesn't seem to be a threat, but I'd love to know how long she's had the condition. Never come across a werewolf of that age - they're usually the live fast, die young types."
"I'm beginning to think everything we've read up to this point is an out-and-out lie," said Belle flatly. "None of it seems to have been much use."
"Hmm." Mulan grunted. "You have any more ideas about how to deal with Gold? I'm still not comfortable with the fact that he's out there with a grudge against you.”
“I - yeah, maybe.” Belle tried not to grin. “I'm not sure he's the type to hold a grudge, but just in case I thought I’d take the direct approach. Go to his shop. In the day.”
“Could work, I suppose,” mused Mulan. “I'm guessing he likes keeping his head down here. Makes sense that he’d want to avoid any kind of full-frontal attack.”
Belle bit her lip in amusement. Pretty sure he got enough of that last night, thanks.
“Well, that’s what he said when I spoke to him originally,” she agreed. “I think I can persuade him to tell me a few things without it getting violent.”
“Great! You dressed?”
“No.”
“Well, get your ass over here!” she said urgently. “Big day ahead and breakfast’s on me, what do you say?”
The silver cuff lay on the pillow beside her, and Belle pursed her lips. It had worked well enough to keep her safe from him when she had been tied to the bed. Perhaps it would work in a more civilised setting.
Okay, since @thatravenclawbitch‘s post of dishevelled post-coital Gold made me pant (and gave me an idea), have a snippet of vampire!Gold trying to get out of the circle Belle trapped him in.
Gold watched her silently for a moment, fingertips tapping against the barrier between them. Belle’s throat was still exposed, soft white skin marked red in patches from the pressure of his mouth, inviting him to take her in his arms and bite down. The thought of it made him harden, his mouth watering, and he tamped down the desire that flared to life inside him. Belle was breathing heavily, her chest heaving, as though she was afraid. Or aroused. It was exhilarating, but giving in to his desires was exactly how he had ended up trapped in a circle of her casting, so he simply stared at her, unblinking. The loud buzz of her phone broke the tense silence between them, and he pushed back from the edge of the circle a little as Belle hissed in frustration and stepped away, reaching for her bag. She pulled out the phone as it buzzed urgently, and rolled her eyes as she answered.
“Hey,” she said. “It worked.”
The person on the other end said something that Gold couldn’t make out, and Belle sighed.
“I’m fine,” she said insistently. “The circle’s unbroken, it’s all under control.”
Oh, is it indeed?
“Okay, but keep your cool,” she said then. “See you in five.”
She flicked at the phone with her thumb, ending the call, and looked across at him with those wide blue eyes.
“Mulan and Aurora are coming over,” she said. “You might want to get dressed.”
“I’m perfectly comfortable, thank you.”
She stared at him for a moment, then sighed heavily and crossed to where she had dropped her clothes. She pulled the skirt up over her hips beneath the bathrobe, and then turned her back to him as she put on the bra.
“Modesty at this late hour?” he drawled. “I don’t know why you’re bothering. I’ve already seen everything. I even know how you taste, Miss French.”
Belle ignored him, fastening the bra and tugging on the shirt. He regretted not ripping it from her, ruining it as he had her underwear. She turned back to him as she fastened the last of the buttons, and took a deep breath.
“You haven’t given me an answer,” she said. “Do we have a deal or not? Information, in return for my blood.”
Gold looked her over, raising an eyebrow.
“What exactly are you proposing?” he asked. “You’re surely not offering yourself to me to feed on. Even you wouldn’t be that reckless. Unless you really do have a death wish.”
Belle swallowed and took a step back, meeting his eyes.
“Of course not,” she said. “Aurora’s a nurse. She’s more than capable of drawing a little blood from me in nice, safe, clinical conditions.”
Gold let out a low chuckle.
“Oh, nice, safe and clinical is how I like to take all my meals,” he said sarcastically. “Please. Offer me something I might actually be interested in.”
Belle blushed a little, raising her chin.
“I - thought your kind needed blood to live,” she said stiffly. “I was just—”
“My kind?” He curled his lip. “A little bigoted, aren’t we?”
Her blush deepened.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” she protested. “I - I just meant that I’ve read a lot, and - and I have my theories, and the encounters I’ve had with other vampires have supported most of my findings, that’s all!”
Gold leaned forward again, hands splayed against the barrier, and gave her his most predatory smile.
“What’s the matter?” he said softly. “Am I not doing what your textbooks promised?”
“My textbooks, as you call them, offer little in the way of guidance,” she said stiffly. “Other than to warn me to stay away from you.”
“And yet,” he whispered. “Here you are. Quite the curious little thing, aren’t you?”
Belle sighed, putting her hands on her hips, and opened her mouth just as the doorbell buzzed. She glanced towards the hallway, and shot him a look.
“Get dressed,” she said bluntly, and went out.
Gold started to feel his way around the circle, trying in vain to find a chink, a gap. The sound of feet on the stairs and whispered conversation outside in the corridor made him stop, and he braced his hands against the barrier, facing the door. Belle’s friends pushed into the room, the dark-haired Mulan leading in a young woman with pale skin and light brown hair, who clung to Mulan’s arm and squeaked as she took in the sight of him.
“There,” said Belle, a little breathlessly from behind them. “Told you.”
“You missed out the part where he was naked,” said Mulan flatly.
“I - I told him to get dressed,” muttered Belle, blushing again.
Gold smiled, stretching languidly. Mulan looked unimpressed, and the other woman - Aurora? - closed her eyes.
“Ashamed of me?” he asked lazily. “When I have the scent of your pleasure all over?”
He drew the first two fingers of his hand across his nose, inhaling deeply, and Belle closed her eyes, looking mortified. Mulan rounded on her.
“You slept with him?”
“I - well, I thought it would be the easiest way to get him inside the circle,” said Belle lamely.
“You didn’t tell me you were gonna put your bed in the middle of it,” said Mulan. “You were planning on revealing this genius part of the plan when, exactly?”
Gold tutted, shaking his head.
“Don’t want your friends knowing about your monster kink?” he said snidely. “I think it’s a little late for that, don’t you?”
He raised an eyebrow at Mulan, letting a sly grin tug his mouth up at one corner.
“She likes it rough, by the way,” he added.
“Shut up!” snapped Belle and Mulan as one, and he whistled.
“Presumably we can’t leave him in there forever,” said Aurora. “So - what do we do?”
“The amulet should keep us safe,” said Mulan, and Belle winced.
“Doesn’t work,” she said gloomily, and the other two stared at her.
“It doesn’t work?” repeated Mulan. “But - but it’s worked before!”
“Screw vampires a lot, do you?” enquired Gold. “I wasn’t wrong about the monster kink.”
“Shut up!”
They all glared at him, and he shook his head sadly.
“Used for sexual gratification and cast aside,” he sighed. “I’m hurt.”
“You will be if you don’t stop talking,” said Mulan curtly. “Belle, if the amulet doesn’t work, we can’t let him out of there. He’ll kill us.”
“I don’t think so,” said Belle. “I think I can make a deal with him.”
“You can’t make deals with these creatures!”
“Well, I see the bigotry runs deep in this group,” remarked Gold. “I was as human as each of you, once.”
“But no longer,” said Mulan, stepping closer. “I’m guessing that if you got out of there you’d hunt us down and drain us dry, right?”
Gold smiled, hunching his shoulders a little as he leaned forward.
“You seem a little too bitter for my tastes, dear,” he said snidely. “What’s the matter? Lose someone you love?”
Mulan’s eyes widened, her face a mask of fury, and she lunged towards him before Belle and Aurora could drag her back from the edge of the circle. Gold chuckled, leaning against the barrier and letting his teeth show.
“See, that impulsiveness is just what I want,” he purred. “You have a lot of anger there. Feel free to throw yourself in my direction again. It’s been too long since I had a decent meal.”
She glared at him, but Aurora stroked her hair, whispering something in her ear, and she took a deep breath, calming herself. Gold let his smile widen.
“Belle,” said Mulan, her voice shaking a little. “Is there anything else you can use to subdue this - creature?”
“I may have something in the library,” said Belle, not taking her eyes from his. “I’m not sure. I could use some help going through the boxes.”
“I’ll go with you,” offered Aurora, and Belle shook her head.
“I think it would be best if Mulan gets out of here for five minutes,” she said. “Can you stay and keep an eye on him? You’re perfectly safe, he can’t get out.”
“O-okay,” said Aurora, sounding unsure of herself.
Gold watched as Belle and Mulan backed out of the room, then closed his eyes for a moment, drawing the rage and darkness deep within, letting the more dangerous part of himself out to play. That part of him was soothing, fascinating, almost hypnotic, and he smiled, his eyes soft as they met hers.
“You don’t have to worry, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Your girlfriend isn’t wrong to be wary of me, in the circumstances, but I mean you no harm.”
She eyed him, uncertainty warring with curiosity, and Gold pressed a hand to his heart.
“Would it make you feel more comfortable if I was dressed?” he asked.
She nodded, and he sank down onto his heels, reaching out to grasp the leg of his pants and pull them towards him. Aurora cast her eyes down as he drew on the underwear, followed by the pants, tugging them up over his hips and fastening the zipper.
“I’ll need you to pass my shirt,” he said gently.
She looked at him sharply, and he gestured to the pile of silk that sat just outside the edge of the circle. She stepped closer, not taking her eyes off him as she bent down to pick it up, and tossed it to him. Gold snagged it out of the air, pulling on the shirt, his hands whispering through the sleeves. He buttoned it, leaving the top three undone and tucking the shirt into his pants as he licked his lips. He picked up his waistcoat, shrugging it on and fastening that, and plucked his gold cufflinks from his pocket. Aurora was watching him, and he kept his eyes on hers as fastened his cuffs.
“You remind me of someone I used to know,” he said. “Pale skin and perfect lips. She rode side-saddle in velvet skirts and long gloves. Beautiful.”
“How - how long ago?” she asked.
“Oh, a long time,” he sighed. “I can’t recall. The decades flow into one another. And the centuries. Time is a strange and brutal thing when you stand outside it.”
Aurora’s eyes widened with interest, and his smile grew.
“I’d appreciate it if you could pass my wine,” he added, nodding towards the door. “I believe it’s in the kitchen.”
She walked out silently, and he let his smile grow a little. Whatever tricks they might have to ensnare me, I can beat them. It’s not over, Miss French. Not by a long way.
Aurora returned with a glass of wine in her hand, and stopped two paces back from the edge of the circle. Gold gave her an encouraging smile.
“Yes, that’s the one,” he said gently. “I’d prefer it if you handed it to me, rather than threw it. Is that alright?”
She opened and closed her mouth, looking uncertain. Her pulse had quickened, and he could see the beat of it beneath the pale skin of her throat, the throb of blood that called to him.
“You could just set it down on the floor,” he said. “Just push it inside the circle. I can’t reach out, you see.”
She took a step closer, and he remained still, waiting on the inside edge of the chalk circle, his hands by his sides. Aurora licked her lips, shuffling closer. He could smell the scent of her in the air, warm and fragrant and ripe, and his fingers twitched a little.
“That’s it,” he whispered. “Good girl. Just a little closer...”
So while Aurora was left alone with Vampire!Gold did Mulan ask Belle about the details sleeping with a vampire?
Follow up to this snippet
Belle kept her hand on Mulan’s arm, gently tugging her out of the room. The last thing she saw before the doorway hid her view were Gold’s eyes, boring menacingly into her own. It made her shiver, and it was a relief to be out of his line of sight. She headed down the stairs in silence, opening up the door to the library and closing it after them. Mulan turned to face her, ponytail swishing and her boots echoing on the wooden floor.
“So,” she said. “Are you gonna explain to me why you decided to change the plan?”
Belle shifted uncomfortably, and Mulan threw up her hands.
“I thought we were agreed!” she said. “We had the spell, we had the ingredients, the only thing that was missing was his saliva, which you were supposed to get from having a drink with him. Which I’ll remind you was your idea. Against my better judgement.”
“I know,” sighed Belle, “but—”
“—and instead you put yourself at risk by sleeping with him?” went on Mulan. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I just - I’d read that semen was far more potent than saliva, that’s all.”
“Yes, and way more difficult to get your hands on!”
“Not as it turned out,” said Belle, a little sulkily, and Mulan rolled her eyes.
“He could have killed you at any moment!” she snapped. “Don’t ever put yourself in that kind of danger again! We should have done things my way and drugged him.”
“He’s too clever to fall for that,” said Belle obstinately. “And besides, I never felt comfortable with that idea. Honestly, I wish we’d never tried to trick him into giving us the info. I’m pretty sure I could have gotten him to cooperate without the need for - for magical coercion.”
“What, so he can play with his prey a little before he eats it?” said Mulan sarcastically. “You really are way too impulsive for your own good, you know. You really think this research is worth your life?”
“I had the protection amulet!”
“Which didn’t work!”
“I didn’t know that!” protested Belle. “And - and besides, even if it didn’t work, he didn’t hurt me! I don’t think he even thought about it.”
“Well, he’s definitely thinking about it now,” said Mulan dryly. “So how about we look for something to keep us safe. What do you have?”
Belle sighed, running a hand through her hair, and opened up one of the boxes of books.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I was thinking maybe something to put on him. A bit like the amulet, if we can find something to use, and if we could find the right spell to keep him - uh - docile, for want of a better word.”
“Something a bit like the amulet,” mused Mulan. “I think Aurora has a silver cuff we could use. Might be a good conduit for any spell you two can put together. If we can get it on him and stop him taking it off, of course.”
“That might be just the thing,” said Belle vaguely, picking out books. “And I think he might agree to wear it if we let him out of the circle, but I don’t think we’ll be able to get the spell done tonight.”
“Well, it’s not like he’s going anywhere,” said Mulan bluntly. “Why don’t you crash in our room at Granny’s? You know, since your own bed has an angry naked vampire in it.”
Belle shot her a look, but then nodded. She handed over the books, bending to pick up another, and Mulan nudged her.
“So,” she said. “Purely in the interests of science, of course. What was he like?”
Belle smirked.
“Pretty incredible, actually,” she said. “Kind of - dominant.”
“I’m shocked,” said Mulan dryly.
“I actually didn’t mind,” said Belle, with a grin. “It was pretty amazing to just let go and have fun.”
“Well, I’d hate to think you put your life on the line and then had to take charge with the deadly creature you chose to bang…”
Belle gave her a flat look.
“You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Well, I don’t care, it was awesome,” she said. “Definitely no problem with stamina.”
Mulan shrugged.
“Stamina’s okay, but at least tell me he knew what to do with the time he took,” she said. “I admit to not being an expert on guys, but from what I could see he had the equipment.”
“Oh, yes,” said Belle, with a grin. “And knows what to do with the tools he has, believe me. I came a lot.”
“Huh.” Mulan pursed her lips. “I guess if guys have hundreds of years to practice, they have to get it right eventually. Guess maybe I can understand your new-found interest in monster sex.”
Belle swatted her arm.
“It’s not an interest, it was - it was necessary for the spell,” she said stiffly. “Besides, he’s not a monster.”
Mulan sighed, and fixed her with a glare.
“Belle,” she said firmly. “He’s a killer. He’s killed hundreds, if not thousands. No matter how good he is in bed, he could turn on you at any moment. Never forget that, okay?”
