Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction smut, I would be living it with Robert Carlyle!

A/N – I am a Virgin (at writing Smut). Please be gentle (with your comments).

By Night One Way, By Day Another

Chapter One: What Just Happened?

Rumpelstiltskin removed his ancient dragon-hide jacket and carefully placed it in his magical wardrobe to be cleaned and mended. It's not like he could go to the local seamstress and request a new one if this one became damaged; dragons were becoming scarcer by the day. If there was one thing his mother had taught him all those centuries ago, it was this; take proper care of your possessions and they will stay with you for a lifetime.

He now had more possessions than he knew what to do with! Years of dealing had bought him untold riches and a castle filled with…junk! Yes, junk. For who cares about trinkets when you had the world's most powerful magic at your fingertips? He had rooms overflowing with gold spun by his very hands, bedrooms packed, not with beds, but with goblets, swords, jewels, etc…

By the gods he was bored!

He had been grooming Queen Regina for over a decade now, carefully plucking her strings and nudging her towards vengeance. She was almost ready. A couple of more years and she would be ready to cast the Dark Curse! Then finally he could be on his way to finding Bae.

But in the meantime, there were always deals to be struck and gold to be spun.

He removed the rest of his clothing with far less care and used magic to toss them in the laundry room on the other side of his castle. His new caretaker had ruined several of his shirts before she had finally mastered the task of washing silk. It was no matter; silk is easily replaced.

Plus, it was always fun to secretly watch her, her blue dress drenched in hot soapy suds from head to toe, throwing a tantrum like a child when she failed at the task. Around him, however, she was calm and collected; a perfect servant. There was clearly more than one side to her.

Yes, he thought, sliding into his silk sheets of his four poster bed, she had been an excellent trade. Knowing he was no longer completely alone would definitely help him get through the next few years without going completely mad.

Creak.

Speaking of going mad…what was that?

The Dark Castle was fortified by the strongest magic ever touched by human hands. Nothing could penetrate his wards; not even mice or spiders! What in seven hells could have made that sound?

He lay in bed, as still as a corpse, and listened for an attack. He caught a glimpse of flickering light dancing underneath his bedroom door and a slight shadow identifying the trespasser's feet. Poised at the ready, he raised his hand, waiting for the thief to show himself so that he may transform him into a snail or maybe a chicken for his supper.

He was therefore surprised when the door very slowly opened and his young caretaker slipped inside. He was a creature of the darkness and could see her quite plainly. She was a beauty of the light and had to wait for her eyes to adjust before continuing on.

He remained still, not wanting to alert her that her master was indeed awake. What was she doing here? She was forbidden from entering his personal space.

After an agonizing wait, the beauty could see well enough to make her way around the vast room. If she was here to steal from him then she would be very disappointed indeed! He kept no trinkets in his quarters. This was a place of solitude.

She carefully crept to the side of the massive bed. Once there, she began to slowly and meticulously remove her clothing! Too stunned to speak, Rumpelstiltskin simply watched in amazement as his caretaker stepped out of her silk nightgown and crawled under his sheets.

She slid gently on the silk until she was but inches away from him. His heart thundered in his chest until he could hear nothing but his own blood pumping in his ears. His breath hitched as she slid a delicate warm hand underneath the fastening of his chemise and caressed his chest with more affection than his wife Milah had shown in the decade of their marriage!

"Rumpelstiltskin," she crooned, taking the tip of his ear lobe into her mouth and sucking on it.

The Dark One jumped involuntarily at the gesture. No one had touched him willingly in centuries! "Belle! What are you doing, Dearie?" he managed to sputter.

"Relax, Rumpelstiltskin," she mumbled, her tongue now dancing down the side of his neck. "I'm here to take care of you."

She what? No, no, no, no, no! He was a monster but he would never, ever, take advantage of some poor, innocent girl! He was an imp, not a pirate!

"Dearie," he began, "I don't…" His words were lost as her hand travelled lower, and lower, down his torso, ending just where her hand met his scruffy curls.

She giggled and bit her lower lip. "All right, Rumpelstiltskin, how about this? I need you to take care of me for once."

She dragged her hand away and took his own cold one. He shook like a teenager as she brought it to her chest and cupped his palm around her perky breast. She squeezed his rough calloused hand tighter and moaned softly at the breast clutched in his fingers. "Please," she whimpered.

He withdrew his hand away as if her nubile body had somehow burned him. "Belle," he pleaded, "you can't want this. You can't want me!"

"But I do, Rumpelstiltskin! I've gone weeks now without any affection!" She suddenly straddled him, pulling his night shirt up to his belly. "If I am to never know another's touch, can't I at least know yours?"

Her hot wetness confirmed her words as she wiggled around his middle. She lovingly ran her fingers through the hair at his temples then gripped them fiercely, bringing her lips crushing to his own. Her tongue plundered his mouth deeply, running it over his jagged teeth, the roof of his mouth and sensuously caressed his own tongue. He was undone.

"This will hurt. You know that, right?" he panted hoarsely, wanting to give her a chance to refuse before he could no longer stop himself.

"No, it won't," she replied huskily. She raised her hips and expertly lowered them around his throbbing member. She was drenched in her own wetness, tight as a virgin but without the barrier blocking his entry. He had never experienced anything so wonderful!

They moaned deeply into each other's mouths, becoming accustomed to their joining. "Dearie, you're not a…?"

"Shhh." She interrupted his musings with another kiss. "I'm twenty six years old, Rumpelstiltskin. I may be a Princess but I am still a woman. I have needs like anyone else."

She began to rock slowly, grinding his cock tightly with every thrust. She lowered herself so that she was lying on top of him, giving her access to his neck and mouth. She sucked and bit and licked and rocked and did a myriad of other things that the inexperienced Rumpelstiltskin could only describe as agonizing pleasure!

With an inhuman growl he quickly spilled his seed into her. He would have been thoroughly embarrassed except that it seemed to excite her!

"Oh, gods! Yes! It's so warm!" she cried, increasing her pace to an almost inhuman speed. He rapidly found himself building up again but did not want to come a second time before she could find her own release. As a lover, he was woefully inept.

"Tell me what to do for you, love," he grunted.

She rose up on her knees and he almost whimpered from the loss of contact. She had been so warm and close he couldn't bear to be apart from her. She took both of his hands, placing one on her bouncing tit as she continued to grind him. "Squeeze as hard as you can. Play with the nipples." She then took his other hand and brought it down to her moist curls. His fingers instantly became slick from a combination of both their juices. "Feel that little nub? Rub it!"

He did as he was commanded, becoming more aroused at how easily he was able to pleasure her. Had Milah been more vocal in their lovemaking he might have learned what it was she desired. He quickly dismissed the thought of his dead wife from his mind. Milah was a whore.

Belle was a Goddess!

Rumpelstiltskin could tell she was close by the way she whimpered. Her rocking movements became more sporadic as she trembled over top of him. He removed his hands from her perfect breasts and miraculous center and placed them on her hips. He took control of her movements, thrusting his groin up while pulling her body down. Her moans cheered him on as he picked up the pace and he was thrilled to watch her furiously caress herself, bringing her own pleasure over the edge.

Suddenly, his cock was gripped by her clenching walls and a new warmth overtook him.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" she screamed, her eyes closed and head thrown back in ecstasy.

He couldn't contain himself any longer. He came harder than he ever had in his life, almost to the brink of pain. But it was a delicious torture that he would gladly endure for a lifetime. He stroked her back and arms soothingly, slowly bringing them both back down from their orgasms.

"Thank you, Rumpelstiltskin," she purred, giving him one last kiss. "You were wonderful."

She released herself from his arms and slid silently off the bed. Donning her wrap, she picked up her remaining clothes and crept out of the bedroom.

What in seven hells just happened? he thought, staring around his empty room.

Rumpelstiltskin stood outside the double doors that led into the Great Hall with some trepidation. He was the Dark One, for goodness sakes! He was the most feared creature in all the land! It was ridiculous for him to be frightened of his maid!

And yet he was terrified.

He was afraid of seeing her tears when she saw him. She must have come to her senses this morning and realized what they had done was a mistake. Even if she hadn't been a virgin for some time, she gave herself to the Dark One. According to the dogma practiced in her lands she was now sullied, ruined…tainted.

He was also equally afraid of the opposite reaction! What if she greeted him with kisses and affection? Her heart shone like diamonds while his was ground into coal. He wouldn't know how to return her affections even if he was capable of doing such a thing.

Rumpelstiltskin was a coward and always would be. He would just have to avoid her like the plague. She couldn't live for more than eighty more years, right?

He turned around to head back to his tower, where he could immerse himself in his alchemy and spells, when he doors opened with a resounding creak.

"Good morning, Master," Belle said cheerfully, a mop and bucket in hand. "You're up later than usual. Breakfast is getting cold."

He looked at her questioningly, trying to discern her reaction. There was no hint of regretful tears in her eyes, nor any embarrassed blushes on her face. She didn't seem to be upset or angry or uncomfortable around him. This was very unlike her. She should have at least turned a charming shade of fuchsia after what transpired last night!

"Sleep well, dearie?" he asked, nervously gesturing with his hands. Hopefully she wouldn't notice his discomfort.

"Very well, thank you," she replied easily. "I was going to start on the hallway in the East wing today." She faltered at the sight of him staring at her. "Unless you had a different task for me?"

"No, no, that's fine," he mumbled. He watched her retreating form as she headed towards the stairs. "Dearie?"

"Yes, sir?" She turned around, seeming unconcerned. It was as if nothing at all had happened between them!

"I think we should discuss what happened last night." He was used to being in the one in control. It was disconcerting to realize the power this girl had over him. "It can never happen again."

She frowned in confusion for a moment, then her face slowly flushed in shame. By the gods she was beautiful when she blushed! "You're absolutely right, Master. I apologize."

She put down her mop and walked back to him, shoulders hunched. "I didn't mean for it to interfere with my duties. I was just so caught up in it all I lost track of time. I had just never seen one so big before…I couldn't help myself."

Rumpelstiltskin was at a loss. Was her mind boggled? What she was saying made no sense at all! "Dearie…what are you talking about?"

"The Library, of course," she replied, looking at him as though he had gone mad himself. "I know I was supposed to be cleaning but the books were too big a temptation. I was meant to clean them, not to read them. It will never happen again."

"No, no! Not that. I meant what happened afterwards…in my quarters."

She looked as confused as he felt. "I'm sorry, Master, but I don't understand. I do not clean your quarters. Remember?"

Had he dreamt the whole thing? That seemed to be the only rational explanation. She really had no idea what had transpired.

"No matter then. Go about your duties."

She smiled brightly at him and was on her way. Yes, he must have imagined the entire thing. His sweet innocent caretaker could never be the sultry vixen that had invaded his bed last night.

But then…how did he end up with this love bite on his neck?

A/N – I do have a plot in mind. Should I continue this?