#30: Under the Rain
She shuddered, feeling his cool fingers slide gently against her skin. Slowly, almost reverently, he lifted her shirt, exposing the smooth expanse of hers stomach.
"Killian, please…"
"Shh," and his mouth covered hers once again.
Their lips bruised against one another, tongues tangling for dominance, as the rivulets of water ran freely across their face. Their rain-slicked bodies were crushed against each other, pressing together with urgency, becoming one. The witch was dead, everyone was safe, and for a moment, this one moment, she would have this, grasp it with her fingertips and never let it go.
It didn't matter that they were out in the open, that the ominous clouds were streaked with lightning, the electricity cackling in the air, that the bark against her back pushed painfully against her cuts, or that they could be discovered at any moment. None of it mattered. They were here and they were now and she could finally breathe him in, take up his essence, bottle it up inside her heart and treasure it until the end of time.
After an eternity, where Emma wasn't sure if she would ever feel her limbs again, he looked up, gazing into her eyes, beseeching and tender. "Tell me what you need, Swan."
Emma was never one to express herself fully with words, preferring to show with actions what she wanted to say. She took his head between her hands, bringing it gently to her breast and whispered, "I want you, only you."
A flash of lightning illuminated the sky, as if confirming the truth of her words, and the thunder that followed seemed to affirm the trembling of their aching bodies. As clothes were shed and lips were met, as wandering hands discovered new places and bodies finally joined, as the earth moved and the ground shuddered, the rain fell.