Well…we all know what will happen as soon as Emma gets her own place *raises eyebrows*
This is my 198th story on ffnet. If you would like to submit prompts for my 200th fic, I am accepting them on tumblr under the username nothandlingit.
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Take Me into Your Loving Arms
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Her legs wrap around his waist as he lifts he up and balances her against the wall, his lips leading a burning path down her jaw and across her neck. She moans when his hips rock forwards and she can very clearly feel the ridge of his arousal pressing against her core through both their trousers.
"Fuck," she sighs, unwrapping her hands from his neck to move down his chest and to the button on his pants, "These need to come off." He growls as he rips his attentions away from the sensitive skin of her neck to meet her gaze, the desire in his eyes staggering her. "Now," she insists.
And he is more than happy to abide, helping her shove them down his legs and not caring in the slightest when they get stuck at the boots he has yet to remove.
They've lost all sense of decency at this point, just looking for the quickest way to each other, desperately clawing at the fabric separating them and relishing in the hot touch of flesh against flesh when they finally succeed. Her shirt is half tugged up and half pulled down, one bra covered breast exposed, the fine line of a taut nipple straining against the cotton and lace. His vest hangs off his shoulders, buttons from his shirt underneath skittering across the floor in the wake of Emma's impatience. But his chest hair pressing into her soft skin is so worth the ruined clothing.
"Darling, you need to help," he's bracing her with his good hand, angling her head the way he needs to make her squirm. But it only leaves his hook free and he needs to see her making further progress towards the whole naked thing.
She shakes her head, unwilling to lose the feeling of his hand gripping her hair. It feels rough and possessive and shit she's in deep because she fucking loves it. Grabbing his hooked arm, she brings the metal point to the denim on her thigh and presses it until it tears. And then she continues to tear at it, hips jumping when the cool metal finally touches her skin and swipes through the thin cotton of her underwear as though it is nothing.
There is a moment of clarity that hits them both at once, when they look down and realise that the first time they're doing this is up against the wall of the apartment she hasn't even completely moved into. There is a moment when they wonder about where their sex sated bodies will fall after they've thoroughly ravaged each other, a stunning moment of silence in which they both question the pace they've set.
But then his straining length just barely grazes her aching centre and the rest of the world and all its doubts and threats fall away, leaving desire filled heat and a pull for more. Always more.
She captures his lips with hers, drawing her legs tighter around the pirate's waist and relishing the thick and hard feel of his cock sliding deliciously against her slick folds. The growl that rumbles through his chest can be felt all the way through both of their bodies and, all at once, a feeling of overwhelming breathlessness hits her. This is happening. Actually happening. With Captain Hook, of all fucking people.
"You okay, darling?" he whispers, hot in her ear as his teeth tug on the lobe.
It's like slow and sweet torture, the drag of his length against her, the vibrations from the deep tone of his voice and the hot breath in her ear, "Never better."
He enters her in a quick stroke, sucking the air from her lungs before letting her adjust to him and kissing her while her body stretches and finds its balance. His beard scrapes down her collar bone where her shirt lays half opened and rumpled up, pressing open mouthed kisses across her skin until she's ready.
She reaches behind his neck, pulling his head back slightly, before letting her heavy lidded gaze do the talking, those sneaky irises begging her pirate to move. Move now.
He smiles like the devil, charming and sharp, and begins rocking his hips. He draws all the way out before plunging back in and Emma can feel herself climbing up the wall with each strong thrust. "Deeper," she urges, nodding when he complies. "That's it."
He chuckles darkly into her skin, "I'm not going to last long if we keep this up."
But she's already perched on the edge of oblivion. "I wouldn't be worried about that," she gasps between thrusts, the slick sound of skin against skin turning her on even more.
He reaches the hook between them, bowing his head as he watches the metal appendage meet her aching clit, listening to the way her breath hitches, knowing exactly what it means. "Are you close, darling?" he asks in that dark tone, "Are you going to come all around me?"
Her eyes are closed, mouth open as soft whimpers escape her.
"Watch," he beckons, knowing the sight of them together will bring her undone. He removes his hook as her head turns downwards, angling his hips so that his skin brushes against her clit on each thrust. He can practically feel the moment her eyes lay sight on their joined bodies, her inner walls contracting just slightly, preparing her for her fall. "We look good, don't we?"
Her head shifts up, nodding as she meets his blue gaze and plummets over the edge. Her tightening body is all it takes for him to follow her, seconds later, pushing her heavily into the wall and leaning in to claim her pouting lips in a bruising kiss. She's forgotten what it is to breathe, wonders if she'll ever have to again. The pulsing heat radiating through her is enough to convince her that the whole process is highly over rated anyway.
And then he moves his attention down her neck and she gasps and can see again without the little stars blocking her vision. She can see and feel and experience it all at once. This will definitely not be a one-time thing.
Coming down from the high, her legs falling from the back of Killian's waist, she looks around her new apartment, boxes still unpacked, furniture still wrapped. And it makes her laugh.
"Laughter after intimacy is not the greatest encouragement for a man," he says, slipping from her and leaning into her against, what he has now christened, his favourite part of the wall.
She kisses the underside of his jaw, "Just thinking about the bed."
He raises his eyebrows, "I am going to need a moment to recover before the bed."
But she shakes her head, "We couldn't even wait until we assembled the bed."
His hand is still tangled in her hair and he tilts her head up, kissing her softly as they stay wrapped up in their little bubble of bliss, "Ah but I think we waited long enough, don't you agree?"
And she thinks of all those moments along the way that could have easily been the end of them if not for their need to fight for each other. She nods, "Yeah. No more of that."
He smiles and leans in again, insatiable in his need to taste her, "Truer words have never been spoken."
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Thoughts?