Dancing at Midnight

John turned back around, his face stark with emotion. He opened his mouth but did not speak.

Belle stepped forward and touched his cheek with her hand. "And if you'll let me," she said softly, "I want to protect you, too."

John placed his hand over hers. "Oh, Belle, what did I ever do to deserve you?"

She finally allowed herself a smile. "Nothing. You didn't have to do anything."

With a groan, John pulled her into his arms. "I'm never going to let you go again," he said fiercely, burying his hands in her thick hair.

"Please say you mean it this time."

John pulled away and took her face in his hands, his brown eyes firmly focused on her blue ones. "I promise you. We will face this together."

Belle wrapped her arms around his waist and let her cheek sink against his firm chest. "Can we possibly ignore this until morning? Or at least for the next few hours? Just pretend that everything is perfect?"

John leaned down and gently brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth. "Oh, darling, everything is perfect."

Belle turned her face so that she could return his kisses with all of her unschooled eagerness. Her passion only served to inflame his, and before she knew it, he had lifted her into his arms and carried her the short distance to his bed.

He laid her down and smoothed her hair from her face with such reverence that tears came to Belle's eyes. "I'm going to make you mine tonight," he said, his voice fiercely tender.

Belle only uttered one word. "Please."

His lips trailed hot kisses down the side of her neck as his nimble fingers quickly divested her of her clothing. He touched her like a starving man, caressing, rubbing, squeezing. "I can't… go slow," he said harshly.

"I don't care," Belle moaned. She felt the now familiar tendrils of excitement creeping up her legs and down her arms all the way to the center of her very being. She wanted release, begged for it, pleaded for it. She'd never dreamed that desire could come upon her this quickly, but having tasted it once before, she couldn't fight the urge to quench its hot flame. Her hands clawed at his dressing gown, driven by her need to feel his skin against hers.

John seemed to be feeling the same urges, and he nearly tore his robe in his haste to feel her breasts pressed up against his chest. "God, how I want you," he growled, sliding one hand down her torso to nestle in her crisp thatch of hair. She was wet, and the knowledge nearly drove him out of his mind.

He didn't know how much longer he could hold out without plunging himself into her, but he wanted to be absolutely certain that she was ready for him, so he gently slid one finger inside of her. He could feel her muscles clenching around him, and he was stunned by the rawness of her desire.

"Please," Belle begged. "I want…" Her voice trailed off.

"What do you want?"

"I want you," she rasped. "Now."

"Oh, darling, I want you, too." With gentle urging, he parted her legs and positioned himself above her, ready to enter but not quite touching her. His breath was uneven, and it took everything in him to say, "Are you sure, love? Because once I touch you I'm not going to be able to stop."

Belle's answer was to place her hands firmly on his hips and pull him toward her. John finally allowed himself to do what he'd been dreaming about for weeks and slowly entered her. She was small, though, and he was terrified that he would hurt her, so he went very slowly, pushing forward and pulling back to allow her body to get used to his. "Does it hurt?" he whispered.

It was a teeny bit uncomfortable when he pushed forward, but Belle could feel her body relaxing so she shook her head, not wanting to worry him. Besides, she knew where all this was leading, and she wanted very badly to get there.

John groaned to himself when he reached the thin barrier of her maidenhead. It had taken every ounce of his self-control not to pound into her the way his raging body demanded. "This may hurt you a bit, love," he said. "I wish it could be otherwise, and I wish I could take the pain for you, but I promise you it will only be this once, and-"

"John?" Belle interrupted softly.

"What?"

"I love you."

It felt as if his throat were about to close. "No, Belle, you don't," he gasped. "You can't. You-"

"I do."

"No, please. Just don't say it. Don't say anything. Don't…" He couldn't speak. He couldn't breathe. She was his, but he might as well have stolen her. She was more than he deserved, and if he was greedy enough to want her in his life, he wasn't enough of a bastard to ask for her heart.

Belle saw the tortured look in his eyes. She didn't understand it, but she wanted so desperately to make it go away. Words couldn't heal him so she demonstrated her devotion by pulling his head down to hers.

He was undone by her soft and gentle movements, and he plunged forward, sheathing himself completely within her. She felt so good, unlike anything he'd ever experienced, but he forced himself to lie still for a minute as he felt her passage stretching to accommodate him.

Belle smiled tremulously. "You're so big."

"Just the same as any man. Although I don't intend that you should ever have basis for comparison." He began to move within her, softly thrusting and enjoying the sweet friction between their bodies.

Belle gasped as she felt him. "Oh my."

"Oh my, indeed."

"I think I like this." Without thought, Belle began to move her hips beneath him, rising to meet him as he plunged within her. Her legs snaked around him, and her new position allowed him to come even further within her, so far that Belle was sure that he was touching her heart.