Basically, there are still plenty of other places to kiss each other that don't involve lip on lip action. AKA I wrote smut ;)

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For One Kiss

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It had started with a hard look and a shout.

"What the hell do you want from me, Killian?" She almost stalks right from the room at that point, "You've got me and suddenly I'm not good enough? Was it all the thrill of the chase?"

He's got desperation in his eyes and truth in his words, "No, Emma. I…I can't explain it right now, but you are what I want, just please, trust me."

But she's right back to that beanstalk and the way he'd looked at her then. Open and honest and terrifying. And she can't take the chance because he's just like the others, so willing to leave her when it gets too tough.

She turns her back on him, but he grabs her by the wrist and sparks fly through her veins at the touch. The, now recognisable, liquid feel of magic flows in her rushing blood, but she pulls her arm away as though she's been burned, hurt still playing across her features, "You can't just keep changing your mind. Changing sides."

He appears offended by the statement, but bows his head in shame as though taking her words to heart. It's this moment of quiet that softens her, makes her think before speaking. He's consistently shown her that he's trustworthy, that he'll always come back. It terrifies her beyond belief, which is perhaps why she feels so utterly threatened by the possibility of his betrayal.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, lass," he says through gritted teeth.

She steps into his personal space, trying to see the depths of those blue eyes as clearly as possible, "Then don't push me away."

He can see her intention, can feel it in the way she lets their hips bump together gently, her arm slinking around his shoulders. "Please, Swan." His voice is strained and conflicted, "It's too dangerous. We can't kiss."

Her brow wrinkles in confusion and then understanding blossoms across her face, "What did Zelena do?"

He shakes his head, "I can't… She'll hurt everyone you love." The way her body moves against his is sweet torture and he finds himself intoxicated by her. "Emma," he warns.

But she has other ideas, rolling her hips forward, "Okay. We can't kiss."

He groans as his head drops to her shoulder, his own hips pushing back against hers now, rocking in a synchronised rhythm, "What are you doing?"

She slides a hand very purposefully down his chest, over the silver buckles of his vest and under the waistband of his pants, cupping the heat of him with a smirk. She's done with waiting for the right moment, done with looking for a time when everything is going to be easy, "I'm not kissing you."

Her hand runs up and down his length, loving the way he feels on her palm, getting harder just for her. He turns his head and presses his lips against the column of her throat, nipping the sensitive skin with soft bites. "She was very specific. We can't kiss lip to lip," as though to punctuate his point, he moves his kisses to her collar bone.

"Now you're catching on," she moans, rolling her head back to allow him better access.

Something comes alive in him then, his hook looping around Emma's wrist and pulling her hand from the confines of his leather only to tug the pants off himself. He kisses her hand and then lets it drop between them. "That could be put to much better use on you," he says, a smirk on his lips.

With a sharp push, the backs of Emma's legs find the edge of Killian's hotel room mattress and she falls back, her fingers already undoing the button on her jeans and pushing them down her legs.

The cotton briefs she wears are simple, but serve her a purpose. "I'll let you do the honours," she glances pointedly at his hook, "if you touch yourself too."

There's not a hint of hesitation, "Gladly."

She bites her lip as she watches him wrap his ringed fingers around his fully erect cock. Her hand slinks down her body, pausing briefly to squeeze a breast. When it reaches her panties, Killian swallows his breath as she shifts the fabric to the side and sinks a slender finger into her wetness.

"Fuck," she moans, watching him pump his hand up and down his length. There's a drop of pearly precum on the tip of him, taunting her, teasing her. She sits up, removing her hand from her core and beckoning him with a wet finger.

He smiles, stepping forward as Emma slides herself to the edge of the bed. She leans in, warm breath making his cock twitch in anticipation. He lets go of himself as her molten hot mouth closes around his tip, using his now free hand to grasp her wrist and bring her fingers to his mouth, licking them clean and groaning when she flicks her tongue out to lick him back.

It's almost animalistic when he pushes her back down on the bed again, crawling over her body and letting their hips align. She rocks up into him, but he pushes down, "Not yet. I can't kiss your lips – you better damn well know that I'm going to make use of every other part of your glorious body."

His lips touch her neck again as he reaches his hand up under her t-shirt, cupping the softness of her breast. Through her clothing he finds her nipple and bites down, earning a sharp gasp for his troubles.

The hook scrapes down her other side, her body alive with the feel of it. "I believe I earned this," he mutters over her chest before looping his hook through her panties and pulling down swiftly, tearing the fabric from her body in tatters.

The hand beneath her shirt pushes up and she assists him in getting it over her head while he continues to travel downwards, his tongue making wet pathways on her skin. His hook swaps places with his hand, piercing through the centre of Emma's bra and ripping through it as well. She'll worry about that later, for now though, she's lost in the way his fingers have made their way to her wet core, sliding up and down the sensitive skin there before slipping inside of her.

She arches off the bed with a throaty moan, aligning her clit perfectly with his lips. And he takes full advantage of that, taking her into his mouth with a moan of his own.

"Jesus Christ," she hisses, one hand buried in his hair, holding him in place, the other flicking at a nipple, heightening the feeling of him between her legs.

He won't even break away to make a snarky comment about not being the deity she calls for, intent on making her come on his lips. He strokes his tongue from her opening to her clit over and over, sucking, nipping and licking while his finger curls inside of her.

"More," she whimpers, her hips practically rotating off the bed.

Another finger enters her, stretching her. The contrast of the cool metal of his rings with the heat of his mouth does delicious things to her and he feels her starting to tighten around his hand, the fingers in his hair tugging him more insistently to her clit alone. He abides, raising his eyes to meet hers across the planes of her writhing body. She's close, he can taste it.

Sucking hard on her little bundle of nerves and increasing the pace of his fingers, he raises his hook up her body, the tickle of the tip of it just barely scratching her intensifying every feeling rocking through her body at the moment. "Oh God. Oh fuck."

He chuckles into her skin, watching her come undone as the vibrations tip her over the edge. She's still clenching around him when he removes his fingers, allowing himself one swipe of his tongue into her, one taste of her beautiful arousal before he crawls back onto the bed. When she opens her eyes, still rocking into the mattress, he's right above her. He drops a kiss to her forehead and then, without so much as a warning, enters her with a long stroke.

She arches again, mouth open in a silent scream, her body still delightfully sensitive from her orgasm, and god she wants to kiss him. Her hand reaches up and back into his hair, tugging him down and she sees fear in his eyes.

"It's okay," she insists. Her tongue passes through her parted lips coming to lick along his bottom lip, tasting herself on his salty skin. It's dangerous, mere centimetres from a curse she knows nothing of, so when her other hand finds his ass and pushes him, urging him to move, he wonders if she gets off on this. On the thrill of it.

He pulls nearly all the way out of her then pushes back in with a long motion, while her tongue still cleans him up. "Emma," he whispers, "Careful."

She smiles, reaching up to press her lips to the tip of his nose, "Are you cursed?"

His eyes meet hers as he stills inside of her, the pulse of his cock still making her squirm. "Aye."

Her hips rock upwards, impatiently seeking friction. Her head drops back in pleasure as he obliges her silent wishes. And when their eyes meet again, foreheads pressing together with intensity, she shocks him, "We could break it, you know?"

He picks up the pace, pushing into her relentlessly, bracing himself on his hooked arm as his hand travels down between them, flicking at her sensitivity and bringing her towards the edge again.

She squeaks at his touch, drawing her feet up the backs of his thighs and resting them around his waist, allowing him deeper entrance into her tightness.

"What are you saying, Swan?"

Her hand rests on the back of his neck, eyes clear and honest staring into his, "I'm saying I love you too."

There's seduction in her voice and everything else that could go wrong flees his mind in favour of his lips pressing against hers, a gasp of surprise leaving her mouth and entering him in a burst of something truly magical. There's a blinding white light that flashes behind her eyes and then a pulse that has her pressing herself into him draws itself from her heart.

Her eyes fly open to see a spark of light connecting with a twin beam coming from him and rolling like a wave out of both of them as her inner walls clench around him and he crashes into her, swallowing her cries of pleasure with bruising kisses as his climax washes over him.

His forehead falls against hers, breaths coming out in pants as their pleasure draws on, his hips still rocking into her, bringing her down gently, allowing the warmth from her magic and his presence tingle through every outreach of her limbs.

"Fuck," he sighs, rolling to his side. The loss she feels at his lack of body weight is almost crippling, but her pulls her over with him, a hand resting against her breast as he kisses her cheek, her nose, her lips. "If I'd known…"

She smiles, "Then we wouldn't have just had the best sex of my life."

He grins at that, her enjoyment breaking through his incredulous wonder at being allowed to be with this perfect woman.

From across the room, her phone starts to ring and she groans in frustration.

"We did just break multiple curses, love," he reasons.

"And a saviour's work is never done."

She pulls the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around her as she walks over to answer the call. Her father's voice greets her with news that he can remember everything.

"No, no," Killian hears her say, "I don't know what could have done it."

He smiles to himself. They're going to find out one way or another and he'd rather it be while there's a wicked witch to focus their wrath on. "Tell the good prince I say hello," he calls out, loud enough that he knows David will hear him through that magical device Emma uses.

She turns around, eyes wide, as Charming starts shouting through the phone. The pirate is unabashedly naked, lying on the bed, his head propped up on his arms as he smirks.

Emma swallows and shakes her head at him, "Okay, so maybe I have a little idea of what happened." She hangs up on David mid-sentence, drops the blanket and saunters back to her pirate.

"Round two? Already?" he asks, already feeling himself harden at the way her body slides up his.

"I'd say we have about fifteen minutes before they come crashing through that door. I'm using them wisely."

…

Let me know how you went.