He knows what she needs.
It didn't take him long to learn, and over the course of their time together, he's learned what she enjoys.
(A lingering touch here, a kiss there, a pinch here or maybe a bite in just the right spot, and she's putty in his hand.)
It's never too long before he has her quivering and wanting, panting out his name.
He's always fancied himself a quick learner.
But she's got a few tricks of her own.
Maybe not physical ones like his, but she knows what he likes.
Sometimes it's "Oh, Killian!," sometimes it's just the word "please," sometimes it's "Yes, Captain," sometimes it doesn't even take words.
Just a sigh or a whimper can set him off, driving him wild with lust as his instincts take over and he pushes her down into the mattress, hand snaking between them to give her what she needs while he takes his pleasure.
She's always loved the fact that she knows how to make him lose control.
However, when it's slow, that's something that they truly enjoy.
The way that they fall into each other's arms as hands caress and mouths explore.
She loves the way he undresses her, as if she's a gift to be preserved and cherished, undoing her buttons one by one, stopping every so often to press light kisses to the skin he's just exposed.
He can't get enough of her when she's like this. Sultry and wanton. He relishes in the way she takes off his pants, all the while looking into his eyes, shy smile creeping its way onto her lips.
Maybe it's the way he thrusts slowly and gently into her. Or the way he whispers soft endearments and encouragements in her ear.
(Just like that, love.
You're bloody brilliant, you know that?
You always feel so amazing, Emma, so bloody perfect.)
He can never help but to smile when her eyes roll back in her head. When she's so close that she can't even keep them open because he's pulling her under and all he can think about is the pleasure that he is bringing her.
That he is the source of her contentment, her happiness.
(Maybe he likes that most of all.)