Prompt: "In silent screams, in wildest dreams I never dreamed of this" CS prompt! :D
Killian Jones is going down on her, and it feels fucking amazing.
She knows they'll both regret it tomorrow, but the small part of her that's still managing to object through the haze of lust and tequila fades more with each stroke of his tongue, every scrape of his stubble against her thighs, every time he moans like she is the most delicious thing he's ever tasted.
This might be the worst mistake she's ever made — and that's saying something — but she has never had it so good, and she is so. fucking. close.
He is her best friend, and she knows how he is with women — knows the reason why, was the one who stood by and comforted him when Milah died. She's seen firsthand the trail of broken hearts he leaves behind him — not on purpose, never on purpose. (Women just flock to him, with his good looks and beautiful eyes, the way he smirks like he's just seen you naked and loves what he sees. They can't help but fall for him, not realizing that he can't give them what they want until it's too late.) And she knows he won't mean to break hers, either, but that doesn't mean he won't.
He's been the only constant in her life since junior high — and she in his — and though she's not blind to how attractive he is, she values his friendship much more. Though they've always flirted, always had a connection, they are always careful not to go too far, to do anything they can't come back from.
Until tonight.
Somehow the drinking and dancing to celebrate their final round of college finals turned into brushing up against each other on the dance floor and exchanging deep, hungry kisses in the darkest corner of the bar away from their other friends. Making out in the cab — his hand up her skirt, flirting with the edges of her soaked panties, hers rubbing the hard ridge of his erection through his jeans — quickly became the two of them naked in her bed breaking every vow she'd ever made about their friendship.
She hadn't even let herself fantasize about this, for fear of ruining everything.
It'll be okay, she tells herself, even as she comes hard, fingers yanking at his hair as he murmurs words of praise into her skin and links the fingers of her other hand with his own.
We'll be fine, she thinks, as she rolls the condom on, feeling his cock throbbing under her hand and his eyes boring into her.
It's just the alcohol. It's not Killian and Emma, it's just two horny bodies in need of release. We can go back to normal tomorrow.
Tomorrow, she promises herself, we'll laugh it off, forget about it.
And she knows, as he fills her up, as they fumble their way into a perfect rhythm, as he completes her with every deep thrust and his hoarse "oh Emma" in her ear, that she is a damn liar.