Work Text:
~~Part 1~~
It was a normal day.
The library was quiet and peaceful without ruckus or annoying interruption. It wasn’t a surprise because morning always brought a subdued atmosphere to all the students; they were too exhausted to speak boisterously or fool around. A few of them were scattered about, reading silently or surfing the web on the desktop computers, while others hopelessly crammed in homework.
One of the library’s inhabitance did none of these. He stood in the shadow of an aisle, desperately watching the beautiful girl who worked behind the front desk. A heavy book clung to his side, and he tapped it incessantly into his thigh, trying to work up the nerve to do what he’d come here to do. Checking out the book was just a ploy. The whole reason he was in the library—or for that matter ventured into the school library—was to watch her.
The girl sat pleasantly behind the front desk, absently reading Pride and Prejudice. She was unaware of his piercing, affectionate gaze.
You have everything, Adrian. You have nothing to lose. Do it! he urged himself. Nothing to lose…any yet…everything. This girl could break him with one simple word: no.
Hell, one of the reasons he dressed himself so well was because he wanted to impress her. He’d always been crisp and clean, but when she had started to make an impression of him, he’d found himself wondering what color she liked most on him and began to dress impeccably. Today, he was dressed in a pair of expensive dark jeans with a buttoned down burgundy shirt.
Calling on what little courage he had, he approached the front desk. The girl was so wrapped up in the story, she didn’t notice him at first, and he was given a few seconds to appreciate her pensive state.
Chestnut curls tangled down her slim shoulders, pooling toward the book she was reading. Enchanting porcelain skin trickled through the covering ringlets, showing off her smooth neck. She was snug in a black sweater.
"Hey," he said gently, calling her attention.
"Oh," the girl’s cerulean eyes shot to his. He blushed. "Adrian, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there!" She slipped her bookmark into place and plopped it down before standing. "Did you want to check out a book?"
Adrian Gold never stuttered or felt overwhelmed. He was always calm and collected and never failed to look someone straight in the eyes. But when Belle French stared at him that way, he lost all thought and had to drop her searing gaze. “Y—yes… How are you, Belle?”
Belle smiled brightly. “Well, Lizzie and Darcy have just danced together, so I’m feeling pretty good,” she joked, ducking her head to peer into his face. “How ‘bout you?” She held out a hand for the book he’d absently picked off a shelf.
"I…I’m well." He slipped the book into her slender fingers. Ask her…now! Now…NOW! He sealed his lips, losing all courage.
"So…War and Peace?”
Adrian’s eyes went wide. “What?” he questioned breathlessly.
"The book," Belle laughed softly, offering it back to him.
Damn! I picked THAT book? For the love of God… "Oh yes…I do enjoy Russian Classics…” he lied smoothly. “Have you read it?” He already knew the answer.
Belle’s eyes sparkled. “Yes. It took a few days, but I was able to get through it.”
He couldn’t stop his chuckle. “You would.”
"Is Adrian Gold making fun of me?" Belle wondered, tapping her chin and rolling her eyes. "If I recall, you are just as obsessed with books as I am—with books on law anyway.”
She was right. He was addicted to reading books on law. Well, he had to acquaint himself with the law, especially if he was going to Harvard.
Ask her.
ASK HER.
ASK HER!
The seconds he had left were dwindling rapidly. If he stood there any longer without saying anything, he would look like a spluttering fool. An idiot.
"Belle, I—," he whispered, leaning forward.
The loud buzz of the bell rang, cutting him off.
Belle frowned and dug under the front desk to withdraw her backpack. “I have to get to first period,” she apologized, sensing something was wrong. “You know how Mr. Brunner is.” Mr. Brunner taught Chemistry to all seniors. Why he taught seniors, no one wever knew. He hated seniors, calling them lazy and infected with senioritis.
Adrian forced a smile. “That man needs a reality-check.”
Belle giggled, grinning. “That’s what Emma and Ruby say. Enjoy War and Peace.”
"Mhmm."
His eyes followed her as she tucked her book to her chest, told Mrs. Trax (the school librarian) that she was leaving, and exited the library. When she was gone, anger and frustration rushed over him. He was possibly one of the most confident young men in the school! And he couldn’t even ask Belle French—who was the sweetest, kindest girl—to go out with him?
Sure, they had only three months left before they graduated, but Belle was going to Northeastern University. Harvard was fifteen minutes away from Northeastern. They could do it. He wanted to do it—to make it work.
Ever since last year, Belle French had been a puzzle for him to solve. She had always been soft, gentle, and enticing…but it wasn’t until last year when he’d grown to love her. They had been assigned to do a project together and would spend hours in the library working on it. At first, he had been cold towards her, but soon, she’d grown on him. She was always laughing and smiling…thinking the best in others… Yet, she had been dating that idiot quarterback Gaston Mason. He’d ruined everything by barging in and yelling at her, causing her to break into tears. Adrian had had enough. He’d silenced Gaston with his cold tongue and told him that if he ever hurt Belle again, he’d truly regret it. And no one messed with Adrian Gold.
Gaston hadn’t troubled Belle since.
"You coward," he hissed, stalking down the hall to his AP Calculus class. Students ran past him, steering clear; they didn’t wish to piss off the infamous Gold. "You had her right there!"
He hadn’t always been infatuated with Belle. In the beginning, when he began to harbor feelings for her, he’d scoffed at the matter. No one loved him. How was it possible that she did? How could he love her? He blamed it on the hormones and high school desire to date for no apparent purpose. But his feelings never vanished; they intensified. They festered and grew over the summer and into this year until it became unbearable.
Adrian had everything. He was his class’ valedictorian, was going to an outstanding university, and had a life of success ahead of him. However…he didn’t have Belle.
He was mature and cynical and cold and calculating.
She was vivacious and kind-hearted and loving and innocent.
He loved her…
It was now or never.
The day had gone by slow, tormenting Adrian. He had to do this, because if he didn’t, he’d always wonder what could have been. Prom was on the way too… It had to be now before any of the other male students got ideas.
School had ended an hour ago. The second that bell had rung, he’d hidden in the back of the library, waiting patiently until the students trickled out, heading to sports or going home.
Now he and Belle were the only ones left in the quiet place. Mrs. Trax was in the main office.
It’s now or never…
Slowly, he emerged from the aisles and converged on Belle. This time, Belle heard him and looked up from Pride and Prejudice. “Hey,” she said. “Going home?”
"Not yet." Without saying anything further, he held out War and Peace. “I’d like to return this.”
Belle quirked an eyebrow, looking confused. “You checked it out this morning…”
"I’m a fast reader," he blurted. Open the cover…open the cover…
“Mhm.”
To check the book off his account, she flipped open the cover…and blinked.
There, pressed beautifully, was a pink flower. Blood rushed to her face.
"I…"
"Belle, will you go out with me?" There! It was out and on the table now. "Go out with me until Prom…college…forever," he breathed, and he knew he hit the mark with ‘forever’ because her eyes glowed spectacularly. And yet, she didn’t speak.
The anticipation Adrian felt crashed into him. He waited for her response.
Worry laced his system. What if she rejected him? What if he’d messed up? How would he make it through Harvard if she broke him now? These doubts floated around in his mind until she said—oh so softly:
"I’d like that."
It made all the difference.
~~Part 2~~
They landed softly on the sheets of Adrian’s bed, both struggling to dominate the kiss until he proved victor. He kissed her long and hard, barely allowing her pause to breathe and catch her breath, fearful that if he stopped she would panic and tense beneath him. Though, she didn’t place her hands on his shoulders and push him away like he thought she would. She met him kiss for kiss, tongue for tongue, and fisted her hands in his hair, holding him in place. “You’re sure?” he murmured into her mouth.
He would stop if she wanted him to, pull back from the precipice if she halted his ministrations, but a desperate part of him, the beastly part, longed to claim her as his own and show her true pleasure. It would be tantalizing to proceed this far and not finish what they had yet to truly start.
“Yes,” she gasped in between kisses, setting his body on fire. “Yes!”
He growled at the sound of her desperation, moving to lavish her neck and hear her mewls of pleasure. When he latched onto the vulnerable skin there and sucked gently, she let out a strangled sigh and clung to him like she would perish if she let go, like the world would end if he wasn’t settled on top of her. He, in turn, felt completely in power and utterly at her mercy, omnipotent but weak.
“There will be pain.” He whispered the words as he trailed kisses up her jaw to her ear, reminding her one last time of what awaited her. She would feel discomfort, but he had every intention of going slow.
“I know,” she said quietly, bucking against him when he nibbled the skin behind her ear. “I want you, Adrian. I—I love you.”
His head snapped up, eyes flashing swiftly to hers. “Say it again,” he growled, leaning over her chest to peer deep into her eyes. The hand tangled in her hair tightened, arching her neck back so he could see her clearly. “Say it again, Belle.”
Her chest rose rapidly with every breath she inhaled. “I love you,” she repeated more firmly. She loosened her hands from his silky hair and ran them lovingly down his neck and to his chest. “I love you, Adrian.”
The air in his lungs whooshed out in a pleased sigh; his heart hammered as he registered her words. He’d waited a whole year to hear them.
Eyes fierce with her proud confession, Belle leaned up and kissed him hard, twisting so that she brushed against his hardness. Hissing at the contact, he pinned her, and then plundered her mouth with his tongue.
She joined in the dance of teeth and tongue until he pulled away with a slick, wet pop. “I love you,” he panted, “Ever since that project we did together, you remember?” He’d been infatuated with her, addicted to her after they’d finished that first project together.
“I remember…” She managed to snake her hands between their warm chests, and he felt the tips of her fingers dip underneath his rumpled t-shirt. “Take this off,” she begged. “I want to see you.” The whine in her voice caused shivers to shoot down his spine and he immediately humored her by sitting back on his haunches and ripping the t-shirt over his head as quickly as possible.
He was not particularly muscular (though he had a subtle strength) and the fact had never been a problem, but now, he couldn’t hold back the feeling of self-consciousness that washed over him. She sat up, eyes gliding appreciatively over his lean, sinewy chest and reached a tentative hand out to trace the lines of his left collarbone before sliding further down. When one of her fingers flicked delicately over his left nipple, he gasped at the sensation. “You’re beautiful,” she praised, gazing awe-struck into his eyes.
The wave of self-consciousness changed into a rush of pleasure and he circled her waist with his arms. Taking care not to jostle or startle her, he tenderly ran his palms down her curves before gripping the hem of her shirt and tugging it carefully up her chest.
Each inch he pulled revealed another inch of her pale, porcelain skin and he found himself mesmerized by the sheer beauty of its glow. His right hand glided over her flat stomach, smoothing over her hips while the other continued to remove the troublesome clothing from her skin. She helped him, brushing her soft hands over his, crossing her arms, and freeing herself from the damned shirt.
The sight of her blue lace bra supporting full breasts was almost enough to undo him then and there, but he forced himself to take several deep, calming breaths and stare fixatedly at the perfection before him. She was a goddess, fit to stand among the stars and be worshipped by gods, and he longed to pay homage to her…
He paused to take it all in and, seeing Belle’s look of worry, pressed his lips to her right breast and kissed just above the lace. She cried out, prompting his skilled tongue to quest beneath the lace and lave over her nipple. “Adrian!” she gasped, saying his name as if she was in pain, like he was torturing her.
When her hands carded through his hair, another hiss of pleasure tore from his lips, and he nearly yelped when she removed a hand and put it over the prominent bulge between his legs. Her hand snatched back at the sound as if it had touched a hot stove and she said urgently, “I—I’m sorry.”
Chuckling disbelievingly, Adrian clasped her hand and brought it back to his covered erection, kissing her silent as she made to protest. “It feels wonderful, Belle. You just caught me off-guard is all.” At his explanation, the taut cords of her muscles relaxed and she sank forward, allowing him to hug her to his chest and slip his arms around her. His fingers betrayed him by fumbling with the clips of her bra but after a moment of careful attention, he felt the bra grow loose around her chest.
It was free. And he had to get it off of her or by god, he would die.
His slender fingers skimmed up her warm back to brush through her dangling curls and slide the straps down her shoulders. When the lace was gone—tossed across the foot of the bed—he felt his heart stop at the sight before him. She was lovely. Perfect. With breasts large enough to fit like a puzzle piece in the palm of his hand. Her rosy nipples puckered in the cool air and above it all, looking away from him, was Belle. Her cheeks were blushed with the darkest hue. She was nervous, embarrassed, but she needn’t be for she was perfection.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, trying to assuage her fears. “Perfect, Belle.”
Sparkling azure eyes lifted to his and he would have lost himself in their depths if she hadn’t ordered softly, “Kiss me.”
With urgency unlike before, Adrian sat back and half-lifted, half-pulled Belle onto his lap. His mouth caught hers in a deep kiss and it was all fire and heat and tongue. And amidst the beautiful chaos, she brushed against his bare chest, sending sweet shocks of pleasure straight to his groin. He moaned, breaking off their connection to suck her neck, then press hot kisses down her collarbone to the valley between her breasts.
Again, her hands carded through his hair, tugging and directing him. They fisted, pulling tight the roots, when he mouthed her and suckled on her left nipple—his teeth grazing the sensitive bud. She gasped at the sensation, instinctively grinding her hips down on his, and caused his whole body to shudder in ecstasy. “Belle,” he rumbled, repeating the same treatment to the other with greater haste. His lips and teeth carefully nibbled and sucked, switching between the two. She was so warm, so heated above him and her core—solid against his cock through his jeans—was driving him mad.
His control all but shattered when she ground down on him once more. “Belle!” he howled, unable to stop from thrusting against her. If she kept that up, he would disgrace himself and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to please her, make her moan his name—make her scream at the top of her lungs and know he had done well.
Panting, he caressed her before moving downward to the button of her jeans. His hands were more successful this time, skillfully undoing the button and pulling down the zipper in one go. And before he could stop himself, his fingers dove beneath the band of her drawers, over her thatch of curls, to touch her wet folds.
The feel of her silky, sweet sex between his fingertips made his eyes roll back in his head. She was so wet for him, her drawers practically soaked.
Belle froze, clutching his shoulders, and stared down at his hand touching her. He followed her gaze, nearly groaning aloud at the erotic sight of his hand dipped beneath her underwear. His was so tan compared to her light, angelic skin… Unable to resist, he flicked his fingers over her folds. She jumped in his embrace, burying her face against his shoulder. “God you’re so perfect,” he whispered, rubbing her and feeling her breathy gasps against his neck. “Please, Belle. I want to see all of you… Please…”
“You’ll have to let go of me first,” she murmured, mouthing his jaw.
When he pulled his hand away, his fingertips were slick. Aware of her eyes watching his every move, he slipped them into his mouth, rumbling at the musky taste on his tongue. She tasted of fresh roses and the purest rain. Perfection. “Do I…do I taste good?” Belle asked timidly.
“You taste like heaven, love,” he said huskily. How could she not see how perfect she was?
She blushed then, dropping her eyes from his gaze to lay back and tug off her jeans. He stepped off the bed to help her, and in one smooth pull, they freed her of the jeans and lace panties.
Adrian stiffened, Belle’s jeans falling from his hands to the floor, and time seemed to stand still. She was nude before him… His eyes traveled over her dainty feet, the lean muscles of her skinny calves and thighs, to the nest of curls shading the folds of her sex. His gaze lingered hungrily there before roving higher to the curves of her hips, the soft plains of her stomach, and the swell of her breasts. Lastly, he allowed his eyes to rest on Belle’s face, which was flushed with embarrassment. He’d been right: she was a goddess—one that transcended the beauty of Aphrodite.
“I know I said it earlier…but you’re perfect, Belle,” he breathed, voice uneven. “Pure perfection.”
He made to kneel on the bed, but she quirked an eyebrow at him and said, “I think it would be fair if you stripped now.” It would have sounded like a tease had her voice not been small.
Grinning, Adrian made a show of unbuckling his belt and zipping down his fly. He might have been lacking in physical appearance, but he knew he wasn’t lacking when it came to his cock. He shoved down his jeans, allowing her to soak in his tented boxers, before slowly pulling them off, waiting for her reaction.
Belle’s eyes widened. She stared, enraptured, at the sight of his manhood standing at attention. Her eyes flitted to his then back down his chest to his arms, his cock, and then finally his thighs.
Slightly shyer with her staring blatantly at him, Adrian stepped out of his boxers and knelt on the bed. He coaxed her into lying on her back, and when she was comfortably settled, he leaned half-over her and pressed hot kisses to her throat. When he proceeded to her mouth, she mumbled, “How is this going to work? I don’t think I can—”
“Shh…” He stroked her tangles of hair, muzzling her cheek to draw her attention. “Sweetheart, it will. I promise we’ll go slow…but if you want to stop, we will.” God, it would be agony to stop now but if she wanted to, he would.
A look of panic flashed across her face, her azure eyes sparkling with anxiety. “No,” she said, clutching at his shoulders. “I told you ‘yes’ and I meant it. Just—just kiss me.”
He did.
He kissed her lazily, deeply, meeting her tongue with his own so that they danced. It was far from perfect—with their teeth occasionally clacking together and their tongues breaking out of rhythm, but it was enough to make her relax. And while she was distracted, he returned his affections to her neck and slid his free hand down her chest, across her belly, to her dark curls. His fingers teased her there, growing slick with his ministrations.
She bucked against him and let out a low, sharp gasp. “There!”
“Guide me,” he ordered desperately, shifting so that his right leg was over hers and his erection was pressed against her thigh. The touch caused him to groan, but he focused on her hand grasping his. She showed him, arching in approval when he found the correct place.
He teased her, patiently kneading her silky flesh—often swiping a finger across her clit—until her breaths came labored and fast. Soon she was writhing in his hold and tossing her head back with mewls of pleasure. The sight was magnificent and nearly overwhelming when she clawed at his shoulders, then buried her forehead in the crook of his neck. “Adrian!”
“Don’t fight it, sweetheart,” he crooned, circling her pearl of nerves. “It’s supposed to feel good…” She cried out, growing taut beneath him. “Let it…” His thumb brushed over her, and that was when she snapped.
Shuddering beneath him, Belle let out a loud keen and gasped frantically against his neck. Her thighs clamped around his hand, telling him to do anything but stop. Her nails dug into his shoulders, keeping him in place and she rode out her orgasm against him.
He had to bite his lip hard to keep from coming at the beautiful sight.
“Belle?” he wondered after she was still. His hand was drenched from her juices but he didn’t take it away. Instead he carefully eased a finger inside her walls, feeling them flutter, then flex. “Sweetheart?”
Slowly her eyelids opened, revealing her lust-filled blue eyes. Breathing hard, she pulled him down for a wet kiss that was filthy. It made his loins burn with desire and he couldn’t help but rut against her thigh. “That was…” she began. “That felt…”
“Good?” he offered, smiling at her breathlessness.
“Wonderful,” she corrected, panting.
He kissed her again, this time a quick peck on the lips. She was covered in a sheen of sweat that made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle, and he’d never been more entranced. He couldn’t stop looking at her—peering into her eyes, studying her swollen lips… And now a painful, incessant throbbing would not leave his body.
His cock twitched against her thigh, and it drew both of their attentions. He felt sheepish for its actions, ready to slip another finger into her core, when she moved. Before he could mentally understand what was happening, Belle wrapped a warm hand around his swollen shaft. He jerked his hips into her palm at the contact and hissed, yet this time she didn’t release him; her small hand moved up then down his length in sure strokes.
“Belle,” he ground out. He sat back so he was on his knees, watching her pump him, and before it became too much, he halted her. “Please, Belle. Please let me be inside you…”
Answering him with a shy smile, Belle guided him to rest between her legs, his cock pressed against her lower belly. Adrian had never felt more blessed or lucky in his life and settled willingly there, placing himself on top of her with his forearms digging into the sheets. He kissed her face and neck everywhere…
Excitement flooded his system. They’d been waiting for months (he’d gone to Harvard…she’d gone to Northeastern), putting off this precious moment until it became unbearable. He’d been willing the whole time, but she had been unsure and he hadn’t pushed her. Now she was urging him to take her, to make her his, and he couldn’t be any happier or pleased.
He kissed her again and again and again until he sensed her relaxing beneath him. Her breaths were steady, her breasts brushing against his chest with their rhythm. Pulling back to stare into her eyes, he asked quietly, “Ready?” She nodded, holding his gaze. Her hands ran through his hair.
“I’m ready.”
Kissing her one last time, he lingered on her lips then brought her hands to his shoulders. “Hold onto me, sweetheart…” He was afraid to speak any louder for fear he might spook her. She didn’t waver. Her eyes remained fixed on his as he snuck a hand between their bodies and lined them up—his fingers gripping beneath the head of his cock.
With the utmost care, he guided himself against her folds. The feeling of her wet sex against him almost tore him from his concentration, but he held on and paused, letting her grow used to him there. She kept her hands on his shoulders and her legs parted. “Wrap your legs around me, love…” he told her. She did as he said, and very slowly, he pressed his cock into her tight silkiness.
When she flinched, he froze. “Are you—?” He was only an inch or two inside… And already the feel of her stretching around him made him want to moan aloud and thrust his hips forward, but he resisted the urge. He would not hurt Belle like that.
“Keep going,” she said after a moment, her nails piercing into his shoulders. Her breathing was stuttered but firm.
With gradual, little shifts, he slowly but surely entered her. Around him, her walls stretched and extended, trying to accommodate his large member. The feeling sent shocks of pleasure down his spine, then straight to his groin. He’d never felt anything so heavenly or close to sheer pleasure as this. It was when he was about half-way inside that he whispered brokenly, “I love you…” and sheathed himself home, breaking through her barrier.
She cried out below him, mouth and eyes open wide in pain. Her hold on his shoulders shook, and he wrapped his arms around her, letting her cling to his body. “I’m sorry…so sorry,” he whispered into her hair. He could feel everything of her—from her chest and hips pressed to his, to her walls around his cock. They were finally one. Finally as close as they could ever be. And she was the one to suffer…
Pressing kisses to her tear-filled eyes and trembling lips, he waited for her body to grow used to him being inside her. She kept him planted firmly between her legs, and he was so close he heard her breaths gradually slow to a calmer pace. Eventually she opened her eyes and met his frantic ones. “I’m—I’m okay now.” He would not have known her meaning (for he was so worried for her) had she not shifted beneath him.
“Belle,” he moaned, hiding his face beside hers so that their cheeks brushed.
“Move…”
He could not deny her anything, so he pulled out an inch before easing back in. He repeated the same process several times, feeling the deep burning return to his loins, and it was only when she met his thrust with her own that he began to pull further out and thrust harder in. Her sweet walls squeezed him, pulling him deeper, and when she cried “harder” and “faster” he lost himself.
He canted his hips forward, hearing Belle’s moan of approval, and groaned loudly. They met thrust for thrust, cry for cry, and found a rhythm that sent them spiraling in pleasure. “Harder, Adrian!” she demanded, and he was more than happy to oblige. He snapped his hips forward, smirking at the sound of their slick bodies moving together to seek their pleasure.
Somehow his hands went from grasping her hips to fisting in the coverlet above her head, and each thrust he made brought a longer whine of pleasure from her lips. Her body twined and tangled around his, holding fast.
At one point her feet hooked together at the small of his back, when they’d previously been around his calves. The new position changed the angle of his thrusts and allowed him to thrust deeper, hitting a particular spot inside Belle. She shook and exhaled sharply, moaning and clawing her hands down his back.
The pain brought him closer to the his edge, and he redoubled his effort to hit that spot numerous times, frenzied to have her burn with him. He wouldn’t disappoint her.
Their breaths became one.
Adrian thrusted, snapped his hips, and ground his pelvis against hers. And all he could hear was Belle’s cries for more, for release. Snaking a hand down to just above where they were joined, he teased her clit mercilessly until he felt her inner walls flutter with the beginnings of her orgasm. The sensation pulled him over the precipice, and he drove forward, buried to the hilt and spilled himself deep inside her. He choked on moans, giving a few last erratic thrusts before collapsing on top of her completely spent.
Belle, wrapped in the afterglow of her orgasm, stroked his back. She accepted his weight, and shared this crazed breaths. After a few minutes, their heartbeats soon slowed and Adrian became aware of the fact that he was likely crushing Belle. He lifted himself, slipping out of her, and fell gracelessly to her side where she brushed his hair back from his face. “Are you okay?” he asked, easing her into his arms.
“More than,” she answered, voice quiet.
“You’re not hurt?”
“Sore…but it was worth it,” she murmured, snuggling against him. She shivered, and he tugged the bed sheets around them, wrapping them in a cocoon of warmth. “I love you…”
He kissed her hair. “I love you too.”
And he knew they would have many more nights like this. Hopefully those nights would never end…and one day he could make Belle his wife.