"I think you are a little tipsy, Hook." Emma said with a smile as she helped him regain stability. Emma knew what it felt like to have no one; she had been that person. So she made the decision to try to be more amiable towards the pirate. She hadn't realized that by taking him drinking, she'd need to carry him home. Shouldn't a pirate captain be able to hold his liquor better than this?
"Aye, maybe I am a bit. But I blame you, lass. You were the one who wanted to play drinking games. After three hundred years of life, there isn't much I haven't done," he said with a warm chuckle.
"Well, you wanted to get to know each other…" Emma smirked.
"Yes, lass, but mostly I wanted you to get to know me. Figured I'd have a better chance if we were just playing a game," he said, licking his lips and winking as he finished.
Emma rolled her eyes. "Oh, thanks. Self centered much?" she said, with a laugh. They were almost to the docks, and Emma felt a little sad that their evening was coming to a close. She found him obnoxious, and forward, and infuriating, but she wanted to know him. She liked the way he opened up to her, and the way he listened when she opened up to him. Is it too forward to ask to come in for a nightcap? No, bad idea: Emma, YOU are drunk. That's all this was.
Hook laughed. "No, love, it's not like that. I just… Well, in three hundred years you are the first person who I wanted to know me. Not just my reputation, but me, the man." He turned to face her. She was staring at him, much as she had on the beanstalk: a distinct mixture of fear and lust.
They continued walking. A few steps more, and she'd have to say goodnight. Why was this so hard? They had gone to coffee a few times, he had stopped by the sheriff's station once or twice to ask her to lunch. They had even watched a few movies at her place. None of those seemed to be over too soon. What the hell was wrong with her?
"Something wrong, Darling? You're awfully quiet. I hope I haven't said too much, made you uncomfortable." It was like he was staring her down, with all of the sincerity in his being channeled through those bright blue eyes of his.
"No, I'm fine. Just… Flattered?" she said with a shrug that she hoped would distract the pirate from the ever-deepening hint of pink gracing her cheeks. "But, um, I think you can make it up to your ship from here. So…I guess this is goodnight," she said with a small smile, as she half-heartedly waved and turned to walk away.
He couldn't let her go, not now. She had been so open and free all night long and if he let her go now, he might lose that rapport. Think, Hook! Damn it man, I won't lose her again. Fight for her! "Unless…"
Emma turned. She wanted an excuse to stay. She wanted… she didn't know what exactly. But she didn't want to turn around and walk home right now. "Unless…" she said, trying to mask her hope with a cocky smirk that rivaled the ones she received from Hook almost every time they were together for longer than a minute or so.
He smiled, stifling a snigger by biting his lower lip. He raised his eyes to again meet her gaze. "Unless," he continued, "I could convince you to come up. You've not had the tour and, if I may say so myself, there is nothing like being on deck under the night sky." His eyes were pleading, hopeful, and hesitant. He knew too much pressure and she'd bolt, but if he didn't keep fighting she'd think he'd lost interest. When he said he loved a challenge… well, he had no idea what a challenge was until he met Emma. Gods was she worth it: All of it.
"I thought you'd never ask, captain," Emma said, grinning like a schoolgirl.
After the tour, and some star gazing (during which Hook tried, and failed, to recall the mythology of this world's astronomy. Emma reassured him that it was just the alcohol.) Hook invited Emma down to his quarters to warm up by the fire, and maybe have a little of his finer rum. She gladly accepted.
Once sitting in front of the fire, Emma laid the blanket Hook had given her to use on deck over her lap. The heat washed over her, seeping into her skin as she waited for her host to return with the rum. She was in his room. Not just on his ship, but in his bedroom. She was tempted to snoop around, look for souvenirs of his past conquests or evidence of recent trysts. Not that she'd be jealous… well, not that jealous, anyway.
She wasn't blind; anyone could see that Hook was an attractive man. He had a raw sexuality about him that had almost drawn her in a couple of times. But Emma also wasn't blind to the fact that Captain Hook was the kind of man who knew how to use his… assets, to get whatever he wanted, and that once he had he wouldn't think twice about those he had used. So why was she so tempted to throw caution to the wind all of a sudden?
Hook returned and they sat together, drinking and laughing, as he told her stories of Neverland and Emma told him antics of her rebellious youth.
"I've never seen this side of you, lass."
"And what side is that?" Emma asked with a smile.
"This version of yourself is so carefree. It looks good on you, you know." This was more than he could take, she was already the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in any realm, but the firelight dancing through her golden hair, and the rosy tint the heat was lending to her cheeks, and most of all the way she kept looking at him as though, maybe, just maybe, she wanted him too. He knew that he either had to break this intensity or he'd kiss her right then. He also knew the latter was in no way an option. So he wet his lips and regretfully added, "I figured I'd have you baring it all in my quarters, but I admit, I saw things going a little differently."
"Why do you have to do that?" Emma was no longer entranced by the moment. Every time she started to feel their connection as anything but physical desire, he let some innuendo slip out and ruin the whole thing. "Does that actually work for you?"
"You'd be surprised, love. Most women find me charming."
"So, what? You just say something sexual and women fall into your bed naked?" Emma would have gotten up and walked out, but she was drunk and the ship continued to rock back and forth, and as infuriating as she found his company, it was the lesser of two evils if the second was her attempting to storm out only to fall over in front of him. So, there she sat, looking at his smug grin. "God, you really do think you're that good!"
"No, no, no love. I know I'm that good," he said, biting the corner of his lower lip.
"I seriously doubt it," Emma scoffed. "I've been with men like you. Girls will tell a pretty face a lot of things to try and convince him to stay. Always ends the same. The man winds up with a huge ego that he can't back up."
"Oi! Now that's not fair, lass. Don't punish me for the sins of others." Hook was honestly hurt. He could handle her feigning disinterest, but telling him bluntly to his face that he lacked skill as a lover cut him to his core. "If you're so certain that I'd be unable to satisfy you, then why the fear? Why not sleep with me and prove me wrong?"
Emma's mouth fell open at that. She had been propositioned for sex many different ways, but never as a challenge. She collected herself enough to glare at him, and said coolly, "Hook, I've already told you. We are just friends and nothing more. I have no interest in you."
"Then it shouldn't be a problem for you, should it? You bed me, you feel nothing, and you can cure me of my inflated ego," Hook replied, cocking an eyebrow at her. "But maybe, you are afraid I will pleasure you in ways you couldn't imagine and then you'll have to admit you were wrong. Not to mention you'll be wanting more," he added with a wink.
Emma was too drunk for this. She had been wanting him for a while now, but sure as hell wouldn't admit that to anyone, least of all the pirate. She had only recently started to admit it to herself. What was so wrong with the idea? She had slept with male friends before without it being more than scratching an itch: Always a one-time thing, so that no feelings developed. It never changed their friendships. Why was she so scared to do this with Hook? It's not like she had feelings for him! So where was the Emma who, after a year and a half of celibacy, would have jumped him at the first opportunity?
"Or perhaps, you do feel something and you are afraid of the intimacy that comes hand and hand with sex. Afraid to be vulnerable."
OK. Now he was just egging her on. You wanna play this game? Fine. I'll play. Emma smirked. "You'd just love it if I did have feelings for you, but no. That's not what's stopping me." She bit her lower lip, eyes twinkling with mischief. "If I agreed to this, it would be just tonight. And if we do this, you have to promise that nothing changes between us and our friendship stays intact. And most importantly, if we do this, you are not to mention it to anyone. Ever. Understood?"
Hook looked a little stunned. He hadn't expected more than an eye-roll and subject change. Is she considering this? "I'll, um, I'll follow your lead."
"Excellent. Oh, and one more thing," she said in a soft, seductive voice, which she had not intended. "If we go through with this, it would be me doing you a favor: giving you a reality check."
Hook laughed. "If I'm less than satisfactory, then I will admit that my ego had bested me. Fair?"
Emma paused. She wanted to be sure she wouldn't regret this when it was over. "Fine. One night." And then she grabbed the fabric of his loose black shirt and pulled him into her, pressing her lips to his as soon as they made contact. She parted her lips and he gladly accepted the invitation. Tongues wrapped around each other as if it were some well-rehearsed dance. She kissed him as though she was starving and he was her sustenance. And he returned her kiss with a feverish passion of his own.
Hook brought his hand to her waist and his hook found the belt-loop of her jeans. With his newly found leverage, he gently pulled Emma to a standing position, never breaking their kiss. From there, he pulled away from her lips, his chest rising and falling heavily, scooped her up into his arms, and carried her to his bed.
He laid her down carefully, making sure not to ruin this by injuring her with his hook. She slid her hands under his shirt, letting her fingers brush over his firm body as she pulled it over his head. He began to do the same, but stopped at the sound of ripping fabric.
"Maybe you had better remove that yourself, love." Hook said, a small sad smile appearing as the words left his lips. He leaned back and began to remove the hook. He had gotten so carried away, and usually women asked him to do so at, if not before, this point.
Emma placed her hand on his arm tenderly, stopping him in his actions. "If it rips, it rips."
Hook looked at her, a bit stunned. "But what if I hurt you? I'd never forgive myself."
"You won't. I trust you."
That was more than he had ever expected to hear. But he didn't dare tell her how significant her gift of trust was to him for fear she'd up and run. So instead he went back to slowly removing her shirt, revealing her small black-lace corset.
Emma helped him with her jeans. She figured between the foreign clasp and the tight nature of the denim, this would be the smoother route. She unclasped her bra and then went to work unlacing the pirate's leather pants. After a great deal of difficulty and a bit of frustrated swearing, Emma finally disrobed the man in front of her. She let Hook slide her bra from her shoulders and then she lay back, more exposed than she had been with anyone in a very long time.
They just eyed each other for a few moments, both thinking that the other was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen, and neither willing to say it out loud.
Emma lifted her hips as Hook began to rid her of her underwear, the cool metal sliding down one leg while his fingers gently traced down the other. Now she was bared completely, and she still felt certain that she wanted this, wanted him. She ached for him.
Hook slowly slid up between Emma's thighs, which tightened ever so slightly around him as he did so. He bit his lip to hide the satisfied smirk that started to appear at the corners of his mouth. But it was pointless, because moments later he was beaming as Emma let out a small moan when he brushed his fingers over her soft folds. He wanted desperately to be inside of her, but he was a patient man and he wanted more than anything to pleasure the goddess before him.
The feeling of his fingers at her center sent shivers through Emma's entire body. As he stroked her hardened nub, slowly at first but with building speed and pressure, Emma let her eyes roll back into her head as "Killian…" escaped on each heavy breath. She was about to fall over the edge into her climax, when he slid two fingers inside of her causing her hips to buck towards him. "Oh god… Killian! Faster…!" Emma all but screamed.
Killian gladly obliged. He quickened his pace and added a finger for good measure. She felt so perfect. Everything from the warm, wet walls gripping his fingers to the hardening of her soft, rosy nipples as he teased them, alternating between his cool hook and the warmth of his tongue and lips. Emma was reaching her peak as Killian thrust his fingers into her. His head was swimming in want for her as he watched and felt his goddess become completely vulnerable in his arms.
Emma felt the waves of her orgasm washing over her in a way she hadn't known possible. She rarely allowed for foreplay because it took the control out of her hands, but things were different with him. She wanted to know his touch, wanted his caress, wanted this intimacy. But now, she wanted him.
In all of his lifetimes, Killian Jones had seen the wonders of many worlds. But nothing compared to this: to her. Waves of gold flowing around her as she lay beneath him, her milky skin covered in dewdrops, her eyes piercing into his. This may have started as a challenge, a game of sorts, but now it meant so much more to him. He knew when it was over she would be gone. She would run, as that was what she knew. But even as ephemeral as it was, Killian wouldn't trade this feeling of being alive and in love for anything. He'd deal with the pain of losing her later.
Pushing these thoughts aside, Killian aligned himself with her opening. Emma came to from her bliss with a bit of a start, sitting up and moving off of the bed. Suppose this was too good to be true. At least she allowed me to experience this much…
"Changed our mind, eh lass," Killian said, trying not to let his disappointment show.
"What? No," Emma panted, rummaging through her purse. "I'm just getting protection," she added with a smirk back at him.
Killian let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. Emma Swan was under his skin and he would devote the rest of his life to making her happy. Even if that meant sacrificing his happiness and letting her go. But she returned to the bed, returned to him, and kissed him as if to reassure him that she wanted this too.
And she did. Emma quickly opened the little package she had brought back. "It's called a condom. I don't know if you had these, but they, uh, protect against pregnancy as well as other things… I'll explain more later," she smiled softly, hoping the interruption hadn't ruined the moment. She slid the condom over his hardened cock and was preparing to climb on top, when Killian swiftly flipped her on her back in one fluid motion.
"I believe the idea was to show you what I can do. Not the other way around, darling," he said with a wink, before returning to positioning himself at her center.
As Emma felt him start to slide into her she gasped, eyes locked with his, as he rocked his hips, stretching her tight walls a little more with each thrust until she had taken all of him. Emma's thoughts were clouded greatly by the building intensity of her pleasure, but before she became completely lost to it, she couldn't help but notice how whole Killian made her feel. Then everything was passion.
Killian's slow thrusts were driving them both mad, but he wanted to treasure every moment, every sensation. Her heat, the way she took him all the way to the hilt, the way her nails dug into his shoulders as he rubbed over her most sensitive spots, the way her walls massaged his throbbing shaft…
They both needed more. Killian picked up the pace, gliding into her over and over, as they both showered the other in passionate kisses. They moaned and growled out each other's names, chanting into the night. Emma began to rock her hips in time with his to increase the sensation. They were both so close, just a little further and they would fall overboard into the sea of oblivion.
A few thrusts later, and they were overtaken together. Sweat coating their bodies, they collapsed, thoroughly spent. Killian rested his head on Emma's chest. Her heart was pounding and her chest was rising and falling like the water rolling beneath them. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, thinking that she could stay like this forever, lying in their afterglow.
He had been right. He had pleasured her in ways she couldn't imagine possible. But more than that, she wanted to stay. She wanted to put her past aside, and stay like this, vulnerable and trusting and free, forever. Maybe, she had always wanted this. Wasn't that what she had been dying to do all night? Stay.
Killian hadn't made love in centuries, not since Milah. He'd bedded women, certainly, but never made love. But even what he had with Milah couldn't compare to this. With Emma, everything was different. Emma was his goddess, his savior, his beacon of hope, and there was no doubt in his mind now that he was completely hers. He only hoped that she had felt his love for her; that she wouldn't run at or before dawn. He reluctantly rolled over, surprised to find that Emma simply rolled into his arms and pulled the blankets up around them.
Neither of them knew what morning would bring, but as they looked into each other's eyes they knew they could face any challenge so long as they did so together, as a team. They both knew they would have to discuss all of this tomorrow, but for tonight they were content to seal their unspoken promises and realizations with a kiss, before succumbing to sleep in the arms of the one they loved.