Written because I'm certain Colin O'Donoghue doesn't realise that when he's portraying Hook, he does this thing with his mouth that makes us all go mmm.
Also, we decided smut is needed to distract us from whatever spoilers may be lurking about. Stay chilled, enjoy a fic ;) It's a solid strategy.
…
You Touch Your Lips Just So I Know
…
"Emma, love, are you listening?"
She blinks, her eyes focussing, "Hmm? Yes. Of course."
He nods and she notices David's eyes on her, a distinct curiosity colouring his features.
"Good. As I was saying, if we cross the meadow at nightfall and circle around her castle, the wench will be, as they say, caught unawares."
She tries to listen, she really does, but it's been a long day (a long week, really) and he just keeps talking with that rumbling accent out of that mouth of his. His lips wrap around the words, letting them escape him on rounded vowels and hints of authority. And that tongue. The way it darts out to wet his lips should be illegal. She wonders briefly if she's still Sheriff in this place and imagines the look on his face if she told him she still had her handcuffs.
His instructions are coming to her like they're travelling through water and she can't take it anymore. She's not there with them, her mind is already trying to figure out the best escape route. In the end, she opts for the easy way out – David and Killian continue to plan the attack and she politely excuses herself from the room.
It's wrong. It's so wrong. But god she can't function when he's so close and it's been a fucking week since he's been able to even so much as touch her. She's a time bomb and the clock is running out and he just had to go and lick his lips, didn't he?
Her feet carry her to her bedroom, the door flying open and slamming shut behind her as she beelines for any flat surface, settling for the sunlounge that's closer to her than her bed. She didn't have the luxury of time to pack when she had travelled through the portal to the Enchanted Forest, so she's been struggling her way through Snow's wardrobe and right now she curses the layers of silk and satin and tulle that are impeding her eventual target.
She leans back, taking a deep breath and allows her fingers to slide against her aching core, trembles running through her at the mere touch, a hiss escaping her lips. His mouth drifts across her mind, the countless ways he's tortured her with it until she's begged him to make her come undone. It's only been a month, but it's more than that. The connection between them makes it seem like they've been together for life.
A hand drifts up to cup her breast through the corset she's wearing, the hard fabric doing wonders for her cleavage, but becoming an insane hindrance when she just wants to feel.
She hears the tear and can't even bring herself to mind that she's just ripped through one of her mother's dresses because the feel of her fingers flicking over her hardened nipple overrides everything.
And then right on cue the door opens again and closes in much the same hastened fashion. She doesn't even look up – she knows exactly who it is. Knew all along that it would take him mere minutes to follow her.
"Gods you look gorgeous, spread out like a meal for me."
Oh she looks up at that, because how could she not?
Her eyelids are heavy as she draws her finger from her wet sex up to her mouth, sucking delicately on the digit. She's a proper mess, dress torn and hair everywhere, her legs parted, her flesh bared to him shamelessly.
She needs him.
"Devour me, then."
Something flickers in his eyes, dangerous and raw and then he is on his knees, pulling her to the edge of the seat and wrapping her legs around his neck. And then that beautiful, skilful mouth is on her and she is lost.
She loves it when it's like this, when they just can't get enough of each other and it's fast and manic and she's not sure whose limb is where or whether the sounds are coming from him or her. His lips kiss her folds, talented tongue flicking out over her clit and when he moans, the sound reverberates through her whole body.
"More," she insists, arching her back and pushing her hips into his willing touch. She wishes she could see him over the mass of material in her line of sight and he must hear her thoughts because next moment he's using his hook to cut through the layers, shreds of fabric falling to the ground beside them as his tongue delves into her opening, licking up her arousal while he tears clothes from her body.
She would be a sight, she's sure. Half uncovered breasts, a dress that would rival a fairy's in shortness, her long legs wrapped around a pirate's head. And fuck she loves it.
His hook presses into her hip, settling her, his eyes opening and looking up the line of her body to meet her gaze looking down. He pulls away just enough that she feels the cooler air hit her wetness, but is still relishing in the heat of his breath.
"I've missed you," he whispers, quite aware of what his hushed words are doing to her, warm puffs of air hovering over her swollen core. "There should never be a day that goes by where I don't get to taste you, to make you feel like this."
She nods, barely able to keep her eyes open with the delicate way he's pleasuring her. His lips are pink and wet, eyes so blue. He's a mystery to her and yet everything she knows, a package of light and dark, soft and hard. Opposites in one body.
God it makes for a perfect man.
He smirks when her hips start rocking, pushing herself into his lips, "Easy, Princess."
A whimper escapes her and she can't even bring herself to be mad at him for calling her that.
And then, quite suddenly, she's crying out as he pushes his fingers inside of her, curling them and hitting that little trigger within her. His lips return, his tongue working vigorously against her small bundle of nerves while his fingers pump in and out of her.
"Oh," she moans, "Oh, oh god!"
He smiles for a second, his teeth grazing her clit and then her world turns to stars as she comes around his fingers, his tongue lapping at her entrance to bring her down tenderly. The tiny tremors that jolt under her skin continue when he pulls his fingers out, the cold hitting her all at once this time, no heat to speak of as he gently unhitches her legs, stands up and straightens his leather.
"Where are you going?" she asks, trying to pull what remains of her dress down as she sits up. There's no time to recover, only to react.
He gives his hook an experimental twist, ensuring it hasn't unclipped during their dalliance, "Back to Dave. We still have this plan to work on."
"But, wait. What did you tell him?"
He grins, "Nature called." At her look, he bends down to peck her lips, "Oh come now, love. I could hardly stand it being in there with you doing that thing with your lips."
She does recall biting it a little, but surely that's not a turn on for him too…
"What about you?" she asks, eyeing the bulge in his pants.
He winks, "You can take care of that later." His hand reaches out, thumb brushing across her bottom lip to wipe away the little evidence of her arousal he must have left there with their brief kiss.
He licks his thumb as he walks out of the room and she swears if she were another person, she would swoon.
Sometimes opposites attract, but she's finding that having similar tastes is pretty attractive too.