Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this piece of fanfiction.

A/N: Takes place before Belle meets the Beast.

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She read. She cleaned. She did everything she could to get him out of her thoughts, but it was not enough.

Her father left a couple of days ago, and she figured having the house to herself, she would get a lot of reading accomplished, but going into town to pick up new books was a lost cause. The owner of the bookstore did not receive any new arrivals of novels since yesterday, so she picked up a favorite of hers instead. Once leaving the small book shop behind, she immediately began to read, as she often did, while walking the cobblestone streets of her little village. There was an art to walking and reading at the same time and she was a master of it. A skill she worked on for years now. Avoiding puddles, townspeople in her path, even the occasional sheep that lost its way from the herd.

However, there was a presence she could not avoid, could not for the last few months now. He seemed to be everywhere in town, pumping out his massively muscled chest; hunting down poor animals for sport; strutting about the streets like he owned the place and that everyone should fall to his feet. It was sickening, the type of arrogance he seemed to possess; and what confused her was his sudden interest with her. He wanted to always be in her face, where she would rather have a book there instead. His aura seemed to command her attention at once, but she paid no mind. She just wanted to go home, enjoy a nice quiet evening with a good book.

When he approached her on her way home, she tried to brush him off, but ended up conversing with him instead. It did not last long, however, as he did most of the talking and her trying to make her way around him, but it was enough. Although it was blatant he was trying to woo her with his charm that was already rehearsed a head of time, he piqued her interest regardless. She has never met anyone quite like him, so readily to be the center of attention, so open with what he wanted, even if he demanded it.

Still, she left him there in town and trekked her way home alone, soundly closing the wooden door behind her. As she sighed and pushed a bang behind her ear, she wondered.

Gaston.

She mulled his name over in her mind. Nice name, good ring to it, even though the personality did not quite fit it. When she thought of the name, it struck her as strong, maybe even daring. Not sexist, arrogant, and a glutton for attention. Still, the name does not leave her, and neither does the man behind it.

She read. She cleaned, but it was not enough.

The day passed and she started another round of cleaning, leaving the kitchen for the following day, as it always seems to be the hardest place to remain nice and tidy.

Filling a bucket with water from the outside pump in the yard, she wondered if he would make his appearance once more. She straightened up and glanced around, noting that she was indeed alone on the brisk, warm, autumn day. She shrugged and picked up the bucket, carrying it back into her home.

She placed the bucket onto the kitchen floor and wiped a few droplets of sweat off her forehead. Even though it was autumn, it was still early in the year where the summer heat hasn't left the village yet. She picked up the cloth from the table, emerged it into the cool water and wringed it out, setting to work on wiping down the table.

Her mind drifted over the encounter she had with him. Gaston. She had to give him a name now, now that she knew it. She had to make him real because it looked like he was here to stay and there was nothing can she could do about it.

Not that you want to.

Belle froze her hand at the thought, baffled by where that thought suddenly came from. Why would she want anything more to do with him? He was vain, self-centered and…Handsome.

Belle shook her head. She couldn't agree with her mind on that one, just couldn't. By acknowledging that, she would have to acknowledge there was a certain attraction, and that she did not want.

But you do.

She shook her head again. Why bother with him? She knew he was no good and would only use her. He'd get what he wanted and leave her behind without so much as a glance in her direction. He obviously wasn't attracted to her, at least not inner beauty-wise. She didn't understand why he didn't go for those vapid blondes that seemed to follow him everywhere. They had nice figures and the lust in their eyes was evident that they wanted him. Maybe not for a lifetime, but wanted him nonetheless. Or maybe he already had them?

Which means he might have some experience…

Even if that were true, it shouldn't interest her. Who he's been with behind closed doors was his business, not hers. But a tiny part of her wondered, if he was any of them, why wasn't he still?

He probably got bored.

The thought made her ill. Even though they seemed to be lustful fans of his, they were people too, and Bella hoped he didn't treat them as anything less. But maybe that was it. Maybe he grew tired of them and wanted someone different?

Someone like me?

Belle rolled her eyes. She knew what the townspeople said about her. About her being "odd" or "strange" and Gaston probably felt the same way. He didn't even understand her love of books, the ideas they gave her.

Like that one erotica novel you read not too long ago.

Belle blushed. She's been trying, in vain hopes, to stop thinking about that book. She picked it up on a whim a few weeks ago and the images the author left behind were almost too much. They were lewd and demeaning, yet the visuals her mind painted haunted her, even then.

I bet you wish Gaston did some of those things to you.

Belle looked around wildly, a few strands of hair catching onto her forehead from newfound sweat. This was getting out of hand. It felt like someone was spoon feeding these thoughts into her mind and it had to stop.

And it will once you scratch that itch.

She couldn't believe this. She always pictured herself a nice, reserved woman, but it felt like her mind was trying to tie certain thoughts together. And then it hit her. She was deprived. Sexually deprived. She was smart enough to realize that. And it was like her mind latched onto the idea that he, Gaston, could help her with that.

It was ludicrous.

Belle stopped wiping the table, the concentration for it long forgotten. It was one thing she marveled and disliked at the same time when it came to her thought pattern. Once she had an idea in her mind, she had to implement it as soon as she could. But this?

How long as it been, Belle?

Too long. Too long since she felt the touch of another's skin against hers, caressing and tingling her senses. Too long has it been since she was held in someone else's arms that wasn't her father's. Too long has it been since she kissed a man on the lips and wanted more from just the simple contact. And even with all her grief with Gaston's behavior and mannerisms, she could not deny there was chemistry. But it couldn't last, could it?

It doesn't need to. Give him a night, possibly even two and see how it goes.

Of course there was not a possibility of a forever after for the two of them, but there could be something now, right?

Belle frowned slightly. She couldn't believe she was even considering this.

You have needs, it's normal.

But could she really act on them? And with him, of all people?

Why not? He's obviously interested and attracted to you.

Belle dropped the damp cloth into the bucket of water and sat down in a nearby chair. It was crazy. She was crazy for thinking it. But part of her did want another encounter with him. She can even admit, at least to herself, that he challenged her, which no one has ever done before. Most people would just look at her funny whenever she said anything remotely informative. Or shy away, muttering under their breath that she was off her rocker.

Just then she heard a knock on the door. She stood, wondering if it was who she thought it would be.

Hopes, more like it.

Belle walked over the space span of the floor and leaned up on her tip toes to see through the peep hole.

Gaston.

He was picking something from his teeth, which made Belle raise a brow. And then she noticed the white outfit he was wearing and the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. Belle did not know what to make of it and having the curious mind that she did, she opened the door.

"What can I do you for, Gaston?"

"Ah, Belle, good afternoon," Gaston greeted, handing her the flowers, smiling his pearly whites.

She smiled back politely, accepting the flowers. They smelled lovely.

Gaston strolled in without preamble and looked around, taking in the small, cozy home.

Belle closed the door and watched him, asking, "So, what brings you here on this fine afternoon?"

Gaston turned in her direction and smiled. "Just seeing how you doing. I noticed your father leaving the village a couple of days and I felt that a woman such as yourself shouldn't stay home alone."

Belle quirked a brow, walking towards the kitchen to retrieve a vase for the flowers. As she placed the flowers in it, noting that she'd have to go outside in a moment to pour water into the vase, she wondered what his true intentions were. She placed the vase with the flowers in tow inside it on the counter, waiting.

"Belle, I had another motive of being here…"

Here it comes…

"…I want you to be my bride!"

Okay, so she did not see that coming. Belle's eyes widen a touch, and then blinked, registering the statement. "I'm sorry, come again?"

Gaston took just two strides to her, a big smile on his face. "My bride! It'd be the greatest. The most handsome guy with the most beautiful girl, it's a perfect match!"

"This is all a bit sudden. I mean, we hardly know each other and…"

"What more is there to know? We're beautiful and beautiful people belong together. It's just the natural order of things." Gaston couldn't help but be proud of his logic.

Belle inwardly sighed. And just a moment ago she thought of actually doing… that, with him. He really was pigheaded.

"I'm flattered, Gaston, really, but isn't there anyone else more… suitable for you?" Belle asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed in front of her at the mid section.

Gaston shook his head, visibly dismissing that idea. "Of course not. From the moment I first saw you, I knew we belonged together, it was fate."

Belle wanted to ask why, how, but figured she would get another answer that did not satisfy her. Instead, she looked at him and thought of something. Maybe she could have him believe she will marry him. That way, they could both get what they wanted, at least for a moment. It was a devious thought, and in the end, she would be no better than him, but could she really afford to pass up the chance? When will another take note of her again, in five years, possibly ten? She did not want to wait that long, not anymore.

But she had to be careful, cautious, and bring out cards she thought she would never play. She had to be more like him.

Belle licked her lips a little nervously, noticing how Gaston watched the movement of her tongue.

She straighten up and took in a breath, distilling some courage within her. "You know, I noticed you too, Gaston."

Gaston smirked a tad, stepping up close and invaded her personal space. "How could you not?"

Belle bit her tongue to keep from commenting on his seer vanity and instead said, "Oh yes. I watched the way you moved, so in control, with this aura around you that just begs for attention."

Gaston's smirk broaden, relishing in her spoken words, loving the ring of truth in them.

"It made me wonder, though…" Belle continued, looking at through her lashes, licking her lips again, "do you ever lose control?"

Gaston liked the demur look Belle displayed, but was confused with the question, "what do you mean? I'm always in control."

"Yes, but…don't you ever just want to let lose?" Belle asked, wondering just how much intellect he held, and hoping her plan wouldn't backfire from any lack of it.

"In terms of what? Everything I do requires me to be in control. I can't just go shooting aimlessly when I'm hunting, can I?" Gaston looked at Belle and had the urge to check her forehead and see if there was anything wrong with her. He did not come there for questions, he wanted to wed and bed.

Belle frowned slightly. She guessed that he was more of a man of action and demonstration, so she acted.

She pulled the ribbon out of her hair that held it back in a low ponytail, and shook her head, letting the brown hair loose. "Like this. I don't mean with hunting. I mean in other things, other aspects of your life." She then reached up and gently pulled the bow that kept his dark hair back, dropping both white ribbons to the floor, and then twirled a lock of his hair in her finger.

Gaston swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry throat. Safe to say, he did not expect that. Then a thought occurred to him, and he grinned. "Oh, you mean coitus?"

Belle blushed; surprised he was so blunt about it, but recovered quickly and nodded. "Yes. I mean, if we're going to be married soon, shouldn't we know how we will be together in bed? You should know that I like it wild and hot…" Belle could not help but blush more, mentally kicking herself for being so forward.

"Oh? So Belle's kinky, hm? Wouldn't have guessed that." Gaston laughed a little, "I guess there's more to you than meets the eye after all."

"You have no idea." Belle said with confidence, looking him straight in the eyes.

Gaston hmm-ed, wondering how to go about this. There was a party, a band to boot, waiting just outside for them, but he was intrigued, and it did not hurt to sample the goods, even a taste, so the hell with them, they could wait. Goodness knew he has.

"Alright" was the only warning Belle received before she was hoisted up in his arms within a nanosecond and placed on the clean kitchen table, soon to be defiled.

Gaston wasted no time pulling off his shirt, damning the buttons for slowing him down, even for a moment. Belle watched, wondering if she too should shred her clothes off or wait for him to do it.

She did not get much of a choice because soon after Gaston removed the layers of his white and cream colored shirt did he made work on her apron, pulling the tie in the back and shoving the white material down her front, his hands grazing her supple breasts, which laid behind blue cotton.

Belle shivered slightly from the touch, anticipating the next one, and the one after that, and the one that followed that.

Gaston then pulled the zipper of her dress down, gasping at the sight of her bare mounds coming into view, her pinkish-brown nipples erected already, "no brassier…" he whispered.

"Didn't feel like putting one on," Belle said softly, her cheeks red. She honestly did not want to bother with the thing; they were such a hassle to put on, so she opted not to wear one. Who knew it would cause him to stare and marvel at her chest.

Gaston lifted his hands and cupped her, testing the weight of each breast, thumbs flicking over the firm nipples. "God, Belle, they're so soft, so warm, so pure…" He wanted to ravish her, feel what else that was unspoiled about her, but for some strange reason, he wanted this to last, forgetting about the crowd outside, forgetting about the other women he rushed into bed, and focused on this, on her.

Belle let out a sigh, her eyes fluttering to a close. "Gaston…"

He looked at her face for the first time since he took her top off and groaned slightly, at how she moaned his name, how she was living up to her name. So beautiful, eyes closed, mouth parted slightly, that just a moment ago, had his name escaped it, and the tinge of red in her cheeks. He wanted more, needed more.

He paid more attention to her breasts, squeezing and tugging on them, her soft moans music to her ears. He never wanted it to end.

Belle did. As oh so nice his rough hands were stimulating her chest, she needed more, wanted more attention elsewhere. "Gaston, please…"

As much as he loved hearing her pleas, he had to kiss that mouth, so he did, and Belle moaned in earnest, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

They were not the lips she was hoping he'd invade next, but it was more, so she took what he offered, took his hot kiss and returned it, hungry in a way that would not fill her stomach.

Gaston's hands left her breasts, grabbing a hold of her hips, moving her forward to him, grinding himself against her lower region, inwardly cursing that he forgot to take off his slacks. He just wanted a taste, something to tide him over until the wedding was had, so he didn't think of taking them off at the time. But now he was conflicted on what to do next. Stop and leave something for the honeymoon, or just take it all right then and there.

Belle had already made up her mind since she first thought of doing this with him. She needed all of it now because she had no intention of actually marrying him, so it had to be done then and there.

She pulled back from the feverish kiss and exploring tongues and looked at him, noticing just how wild and beast-like he was with his hair undone and nude form from the waist up.

"Gaston, I need you…inside me…"

Gaston, for the first time, blushed at the boldness of her words. "But, Belle, the honeymoon…"

"Screw the honeymoon and screw me," Belle stated, not caring how wanton it sounded as she grab hold of the bottom of her dress and pulled it up, spreading her thighs slightly in the process.

Gaston was taken back, to say the least. Just what happened to the reserved and polite manner woman he talked to just a few days ago? Was this really how she was behind closed doors and draped windows?

Gaston licked his lips, rubbing his chin in thought. Well, there was one way they could both get what they wanted.

He looked at the junction of her sex and swallowed, braving himself. He could do this, of course he could. There was nothing stopping him, Belle was clearly consented in this. So he took his middle and ring finger and pushed them slowly inside her sex, listening to her moan of content.

Already moist…Gaston thought, pushing his fingers in more, wiggling them this way and that, Belle's cries encouraging him further. He wanted to just shove his long fingers in, but knew a barrier would stop him.

Except none did.

Gaston frowned slightly, unseen by Belle as her head was thrown back and eyes closed, and he pushed his fingers in more, noting he reached the end.

Maybe he was mistaken.

He forced in a third finger, the flesh surrounding his fingers moist and tight, but giving way.

That could not be right. She was supposed to be pure and untouched. Not spoiled, she was not supposed to be like the other women he laid with before. She was going to be his virgin wife, but realizing that could never be, he could not go on.

Gaston pulled his slick fingers out and looked at the woman he refused to give a name to now; because now she was like the others in his mind, and he did not want that.

Belle, no longer feeling anything filling her sex and hearing only breathing, opened her eyes and blinked. "Gaston?"

She watched him pulled on his shirt, wiping his fingers on the front of it. "Gaston, what's the matter?"

Gaston glanced at her, taking in her wild hair, uncovered chest, dress hiked up and legs propped, the table wet where she sat. To think that another man has seen this, done this with her, and knowing he'll never be the first, it was unacceptable. He wanted to be first, he wanted to conquered first; no one else had the right.

"The wedding is off," was all he said as he opened the front door and left, closing it with an audile thud.

"What just happened?" Belle asked herself, confused. Sure she was not going to actually marry him, but what made him not want to wed her any longer? She thought they were going about things just fine.

For the first time in her life, Belle had no answer to her question.

Fate really was a fickle thing.

It was supposed to give and take, take and give. It was strange how the tables turned on them, both wanting something from the other and neither getting what they wanted in the end.