Warning: Rated P for PWP, porn without plot. Wha? No P? Okay, M, then. :/

Disclaimer: I don't own a damn thing, except my naughty, filthy fantasies about a certain dark-haired, blue-eyed, ginger-bearded, Cockney-accented pirate/former naval officer with a chest full of hair I just want to run my fingers through and an ass that... Whoa! Sorry...

I don't own OUAT or any of the characters. Wish I owned a certain blue-eyed Irishman, though... ;) On with the show...

It had been long enough.

Killian stepped onto his motorcycle, twisting the key into the ignition and revving the engine to life. He hadn't seen his Swan in over a week, and had barely spoken to her over the phone. Apparently she'd been helping her mother with the new census, but promised him she'd be free in another two weeks.

He couldn't bear it.

Christ, the woman had seared her way into his blackened heart (which, thanks to her, wasn't quite so black anymore) and she had been the whole reason he'd come back to Storybrooke in the first place. And now they were a 'thing', as Henry called it.

They'd formally announced their feelings for each other over two months ago, and Killian's heart soared at the memory of how Emma's beautiful eyes had filled with tears as he confessed his love... and then as she confessed hers. They'd been inseparable ever since.

Until now. Bloody census.

Pulling up at her building, he switched off Jolly, the sleek, black Harley he'd named after his beloved ship, and walked casually up the stairs. He steadied himself as he knocked at the door of her small loft. She opened it, appearing in a simple white t-shirt and soft grey knit pants. Her hair was damp, and she smelled of jasmine and vanilla. She must have just had her evening bath, and she looked adorable and comfy. (He liked that word.)

"Hey, babe, what's up?" She opened the door and motioned him in with her sunny smile, closing it softly behind him, kissing him softly on the lips. (He had to admit, he liked her pet name for him.)

He held her close for a second or two longer than normal, looking into her eyes. "Oh, nothing, darling." (He knew she'd never admit it, but he knew she loved his pet name for her, too, even if he couldn't help that it was a tad old-fashioned. He was two hundred years old, after all.)

She smiled shyly up at him and combed her fingers through his hair, which had become slightly matted from his helmet. "No objections here." She took him by the hand and began to lead him to the tiny kitchen. "Wine?"

"I'd love some, thank you." He slipped off his jacket and lay it over the chair. "Is Henry here?"

"No. He's got the week off from school, so Regina took him." She poured them both a glass of red wine and he followed her dutifully to the sofa. "So what brings you here?" she smiled.

His heart skipped a beat. He took a sip and threaded his fingers of his free hand through hers. "You do."

She sighed. "Oh, Killian. I'm sorry I've been so busy. Mom just needs help, and with things so..." Her eyes widened in that way he loved, "quiet around here..."

"The road goes both ways, darling. So I came to you." He moved a little closer and brought her hand to his lips, gently kissing along the backs of her fingers and the back of her hand. "I wish I could help."

She cocked her head. "You know how weird Mom can be. She likes you, but..."

"I know. You don't have to explain." His soft kisses covered her wrist. "I just thought we could spend some time together tonight. Not long, as I imagine you must be woefully tired from all the paperwork." He kissed the tips of her elegant fingers.

"That would be nice," she said, taking another sip from her glass and winding his arm around her, her head immediately going to his shoulder.

He sighed inwardly, pressing his lips into her damp, fragrant hair. "Oh, Emma."

Rolling her head to look at him, she smiled through her lashes. "It's so good to see you, Killian. I really missed you."

He set his glass on the table before them and took hers to set beside it. "I've missed you too, darling." This time his lips ghosted over hers. "So bloody much."

She took his left hand and kissed his palm tenderly. "I'm still getting used to you having two hands, babe." She stroked his knuckles.

He grinned, and gave her a naughty wink. "All the better to..." his right hand slipped just beneath her breast, kneading the soft flesh, "...cop a feel with."

"Oh my god," she giggled. "That sounds so funny coming out of your mouth." Her lips found his and they kissed languidly for a moment.

"I told you, darling. I've become a twenty-first-century man." His left arm wound its way around her, holding her close to his chest as they nuzzled their noses together. "I'd become anything for you, Emma Swan."

Her expression suddenly went serious, and her hand came to rest against his warm cheek. "I know. You already became the most wonderful man a girl could ever ask for."

Just hearing her say the words ignited a fire inside him. "Emma," he breathed, and held her tightly, pressing his lips to hers. She opened her mouth to him after he slid the silky tip of his tongue along the soft seam of her lips, and his head spun as he tasted spearmint and red wine. Only Emma had ever made him feel this way, like he was floating on a cloud over a calm sea. His hands roamed the expanse of skin on her back underneath her t-shirt, and she sighed softly into his mouth.

Slowly, she pulled his t-shirt out of the waistband of his jeans and slid her warm palms up his stomach, running her fingers delicately through the thick mass of hair that covered his chest. But as soon as her fingers passed over a nipple, he stiffened and pulled her into his lap, tearing his mouth from hers and looking at her as if he were starving.

Lips swollen, eyes wide, she wrapped her legs around his waist and took his mouth. Oh, how he loved when Emma kissed him like this. It had been so long... he groaned deep in his throat and gently wound his fingers through her hair. Suddenly he found himself pushed into the back cushions of the couch, Emma pulling his t-shirt up around his neck with a throaty "get this off now, babe" and sucking at the sensitive hollow at the base of his throat as his shirt hit the floor.

He felt as if the crotch of his jeans were three sizes too tight. So many times they'd gotten like this, all needy and touching and panting. Emma called it 'making out', and he loved it, even though it never led to anything more. It fueled his nighttime fantasies, however, making him come louder and harder than he usually did when left to his own hand.

"Emma... oh, Emma..." he cradled her head against him as she licked a path down to his chest.

"Jesus... I want you so bad," she panted as her nails scored his skull.

"Then take me, darling, I'm yours," he said in a totally wrecked whisper, hoping to all the gods of every religion he'd ever known of that she would accept.

Nuzzling her way back up to his cheek, she suddenly stopped, looking him deeply in the eyes. Here was where she normally backed off, fluffing her hair back into place and putting herself back together. "I love you, Killian," she whispered softly.

"I love you, Emma." He simply looked at her adoringly, combing through her hair with his fingers.

Then four words left her lips that would change their relationship forever. "Stay with me tonight."

A/N: For this, I wanted Emma to have put Killian's hand back on herself, after having found it in Gold's shop. Girl can dream, right? Oh... and I REALLY, REALLY wanted him to have a Harley, okay? Just... WOW.

Sexy times up next... ;)