A/N: Based on a prompt I received on Tumblr. I have an AUfest going on so just jump in my askbox and gimme all your prompts.
Blood. It's all about blood now. Everything he is, everything he wants, everything he feels courses through his blood. The blood she fed him, the blood he can still taste on his tongue, the blood he sucked out of her smooth white skin. Emma. His sire. His salvation. His dark princess.
First, there's coldness. He wakes up, sucking in unnecessary air. The smell of the sea helps calm his silent heart. She didn't burry him in the ground. She buried him in the sand. Smart lass. Her eyes are the first thing he sees after he rubs the sand off his lashes. A deep yellow, so unlike the tantalizing green that had lured him in what seemed like a lifetime ago. And it probably was. He had been reborn. The coldness settled in, dragging him up, filling him, feeding him, freeing him, replacing the rules he had abided by for so long. There were no more rules.
Then, there's hunger. But she is there again. Ready to lead him on his first hunt. And bloody hell! She is so graceful he nearly forgets his own thirst. He swears he can live on her alone. Watching her stalk her prey, glide into the middle of the crowd. A black swan. The most dangerous kind. He watches the way she sinks her teeth, digs in her nails, swipes her long tresses to the side. Smooth, effortless movements. She bites on the right and he waits until she invites him to take the left side of the poor sod's neck. They feed like they would do everything from now on. Together.
Finally, there's lust. And he swears that's the one that consumes him the most, wraps its hot fingers around his ice-cold skin and burns.
Her lips bruise, her teeth break the skin of his bottom lip, her tongue plunders his mouth, her hands claw at his shirt and he swears she is pirate, if he has ever seen one. And with that he freezes.
A pirate indeed. Harsh and messy and fast and dirty. He feels every single lesson that has been beaten into his mind rise up like bile in his throat. If she is a pirate, what does that make him? He pulls back, eyes looking anywhere but at her exposed flesh. Her blouse is undone and her breasts have all but spilled out. There's a bite mark on top of the right one. Had he done that? He swears his cheeks would be burning, if they still had that option.
"Don't tell me you're feeling shy all of a sudden, captain?" she purrs, taking two steps forward for the one he had taken backwards and suddenly her body is flush against him.
His hands automatically settle on her waist. He barely knows her but her blood is in his veins now. He is hers. She is his captain, pirate or not. And suddenly he wants it. He wants everything she stands for, he wants her. With a growl he decides that she shall be his too.
Killian moves so quickly he surprises even himself. But then she is beneath him, spread out on the huge bed where he had unceremoniously thrown her and she is panting even though she has had decades to get rid of that pesky habit.
"I won't," he grins down at her, all perfect white teeth and this time he bites her breast on purpose – hard and unforgiving.
He sucks a nipple into his mouth while her hands make quick work of his pants. She is rough and he responds in kind. He doesn't know if he will ever be able to be gentle. He doesn't know if it's a Killian thing or a… vampire thing. Perhaps it's an Emma thing.
"Are you always so eager, luv?" he smirks at her, as she completely rids him of his shirt.
Her hand fists in his hair and she pulls. Hard. She is strong, stronger than him, and she will not let him forget it. As if he could. As if he wanted to.
"I want to make sure I have made a good investment, sailor," she whispers harshly in his ear and then bites down on it, drawing blood.
A lot of blood is drawn during the night. As he trusts inside her, her nails leave marks on his back and shoulders that will definitely be there in the morning, angry red lines that map the path to his lost soul. Her teeth make a complete mess of his lips and he loses control of his demon at one point and bites deep into her shoulder. She hisses at him sinks her teeth into her sire mark and pulls the unlife out of him.
He should know his place. And he does as she rides him again and again. A dark goddess, writhing above him, blonde hair spilled over milky white breasts, fingers anchored in the hair on his chest. She draws every sound known to man out of him. As his hands bruise her pale tights, it's her dusky nipples that have him in a trance and that's where he again spills that precious blood of hers. She buckles above him and he nearly bites off the sweet treasure in his mouth. He can tell it causes her pain. But the pleasure is much stronger. And then Emma moans his name, his name, for the first time.
"Killian!" her pants urge him on, her arms wrapping around his neck.
He switches their positions in the blink of an eye and for the first time since he started on this new adventure he feels like he has his mistress at his mercy. She meows beneath him as he brings her over the edge and her eyes flutter closed.
"A good investment indeed," she murmurs, eyes still shut, lips curving in a positively sinful grin.
He wants to howl out of the damn window. He wants to run naked in the bloody street. Preferably with her over his shoulder. He wants to wreck havoc and watch her paint the see red. She can have the blue of his eyes.
He is free. The only thing holding him to the ground now is the dark beauty in his arms. She opens her eyes and he feels both demon and man rush forward to lay themselves at her feet and he knows he is damned but he doesn't care. He is free.
To die, it seems, will be an awfully big adventure.