Killian was, as she had hoped and prayed and wished, an absolute perfect gentleman from the moment she tore down the last pieces of her walls and let him in. Ever since the revelation of giving up his ship, his home, for her and the unknown number of shared kisses that followed after that night, he had done nothing but exactly what she wanted and needed from him.
Emma wanted slow, wanted the buildup that should've happened to match where they were in their relationship. She wanted the excitement of a new relationship, the giddiness that came from being with someone for the first time. Everything that she thought she'd had with Neal and Walsh but, in fact, had been missing out on her entire life.
Sure, she had some of that with Neal, but they were thieves and homeless. They were more worried about getting their next meal and a place to sleep that wasn't the bug than they were about Neal treating her to little surprises and unsurmounting bursts of affection. And Walsh. Don't even get her started on that flying monkey. All of it was fake, obviously. None of the things he did for her were truthful and from the heart, not because he loved her.
But Killian. He might've been a pirate, and not to mention the not so smooth history the two of them had, with his whole working with Cora jig, but he was absolutely everything she never realized she wanted and needed in her life. He loved her more completely than she ever thought possible (he's yet to say the words out loud, aware and mindful that she still wasn't ready to hear or say them despite how things were between them at this point, but she knew), he adored Henry and treated him like the son he never had but always wanted (it helped that Henry really did take after his father), and he fit in perfectly with her messed up family (how much harm could adding a pirate into the mix be, really?).
He knew exactly what she needed and when; a hand on her lower back to focus her anger and annoyance into something more useful, pulling her into his arms when her insecurities about them riled up, his hand in her hair to relax her when she couldn't sleep at night, and the best things of all, a kiss to either her lips or hair at random times throughout every day that always made her smile.
And, the part she loved the most about all this, despite her distracting antics with his past self during their little adventure to the Enchanted Forest, Killian never once pushed her beyond her comfort zone. They both knew what she was capable of when she wanted to, and he even on occasion playfully teased her with comments of "siren" and "minx", never doing more than chuckling and kissing her after. He knew she was still scared of having them torn away from her, either by his hand or some outside force, and that it would be easier to move on if she still held onto a small part of her heart; and she knew he knew, and it made her love him even more.
When she did open up that last bit of herself to him, it was more perfect than anything imaginable. One night alone, Henry over at Regina's for the weekend, they were curled up on the couch, limbs entwined as much as possible, basking in the warmth of each other and the flames blazing in the fire place of their apartment by the water. (She asked Killian to move in with her and Henry almost immediately, unable and unwilling to be separated from him now that he was hers.)
"I love you."
The words were muffled against his heart, having just left a gentle kiss to the spot, and she could hear his heart stop and breath hitch before both returned to normal. She knew he wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly and was waiting for confirmation before reacting.
"I love you."
Her words were more defined, louder, and spoken against his lips as her eyes met his deep, beautiful ocean blue ones. Their lips molded together in a slow, passionate kiss that sent every thought in her mind into its recesses, focused so wholly on her pirate she was completely unaware when they ended up in their bedroom and her shirt slowly lifted up her torso.
Killian loved and worshiped her in a way she was sure she'd never feel again it was so perfect (she did, every time they made love), and felt like the princess and goddess he swore she was, well into the night and early morning. They slept more connected and entwined with the other's body than usual, unable to tell where he started and she ended; she was awoken with more of those worshiping kisses along her neck and shoulder, shifting until their lips met in a slow, tired, yet perfect kiss, their love making matching the laziness the rest of their weekend.