Doing some cross-posting! All the contents are in the chapter titles.

Exiting the bathroom in need of assistance with his tie, Killian stopped short and found himself in desperate need of a drink. "Y-You're not wearing that, are you, love?"

Emma threw a coy look over her shoulder, pausing in her bend to pick up the dress she'd picked out for that evening. The effect was instantaneous, drawing his eye down her body, garters and those spikes for shoes she so loved and all. "Why, is there a problem?"

Oh there bloody well was a problem. He was used to this world's version of undergarments, for the most part. But the frustrating thing of it was how someone, at some point in time, had decided to make women's breast bands and loincloths so gods-be-damned revealing. And more frustrating was that, while Emma looked ravishing in anything and nothing at all, she had the ensnaring charm of a siren in all of them. This one was sinful, black lace shaped around her in what she might otherwise call a 'bathing suit', but she'd never (at least, he thought with a jealous twinge, she'd better not) wear something in public with the neckline plunging that deeply, or with her arse on full display, peeking out tantalizingly from under the lace. Her black hose were held up by garters, and her heels could probably kill a man-which, come to think of it, would probably be as enticing a sight to watch as the one currently before him.

He keened a little, involuntarily, when the dress went over the garment; it was a nice dress, if you liked your women to wear clothing, in her favorite red and clinging in all the right places, and under normal situations he would appreciate her figure in it. However, with his cock straining against his slacks, he wanted nothing more than to tear it off of her-quite literally, if need be-pin her to the bed, and fuck her senseless.

Emma gave him the coy look again, and bent in front of the mirror to adjust her hair. That done, she sauntered to where he stood-and he was well aware that he'd been standing shell-shocked in the same spot for almost five minutes, slack-jawed like the git that he was-and did up his tie for him, tucking it into his waistcoat and smoothing it down, her fingers lingering on his chest. She had to feel his heart racing under her touch. The self-satisfied smirk told him she did. "Behave yourself tonight," she told him, her voice sultry. "This is payback for last time."

She left the room, taking his breath with him. It took him a moment to remember what she was talking about.

A delicate throat-clearing brought his attention out of his book. The first thing he noticed was a confection of pink and ruffles and lace. "A bloody cupcake?" He asked.

The words, and the following laughter, slipped out before he could stop them, as the rest of his brain took in the lacy pink panties, the sheer pink curtains falling from the lacy pink bra, realizing too late that his barefoot goddess was attempting to seduce him. She'd stormed off before he could stop her.

He couldn't remember what the party was for, why they were all dressed up. A betrothal? A wedding? Another baby? There were a lot of drinks in his hand over the course of the night, and Killian vowed to keep his mind clear for what was in store later, but seven hells watching her socialize, prancing around the room in that little dress, those heels, smiling and flipping her hair, knowing what she looked like under the seemingly innocent dress... He swallowed another mouthful of whisky, watching her laugh at something the doctor said. Her wanton eyes caught his when she touched Whale's arm. His blood roared, and he slammed the tumbler on the bar after downing the rest of it.

She met him in the middle. "I think it's time to go," Emma said, the innocence of the statement broken up by the knowing way her lips curled upwards.

"Too right," he said tightly.

Farewells were quick, and the walk to their apartment even quicker. He unzipped her dress as they went up the stairs, her heels clicking against the tiles fast and he taking them two at a time. The door was barely shut behind them before he pinned her against it, his mouth on hers, her hands clawing at his back, one leg already hooked around his waist. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," she whimpered when his mouth moved roughly down her neck, bear scraping red streaks down her skin.

"I bloody well intend to, you witch. Take this damned thing off."

Her dress fell to a heap on the floor around her feet. He paused for a moment to loosen the tie around his neck, and then he went right back to lavishing her breasts over the lace, enjoying her squirming and the way her hands fisted in his hair. "Fuck. Jesus fuck, Killian, just-shit, I need-"

Her hands fumbled at his belt, undoing his slacks enough to free his cock from its confined space. He cut the fabric covering her mound with his hook, and thrust his fingers inside her sopping heat. "Dammit, Jones, if you don't-"

The gods smiled on Killian Jones the day they invented the spiked shoes, because he didn't even need to lift her to angle himself in. He took her right against the door, one heel digging into his own arse. She keened, clinging to him. "Come on, love, come for me, show me your pretty face when I drive my cock into you."

She kissed him roughly, breaking only when he shifted, trying to hit that spot that made her fall to pieces. "That's a girl, let me hear you. Right here, me fucking you at the door, anyone could hear you, what I do to you, and you love that, don't you? You want everyone to know what I do to you, want everyone to know that you are mine, that I only give this to you."

Emma cried out, and trembled against him, her walls convulsing around him as he followed her into ecstasy moments later.

Their chests heaved, gasping for air. He untangled himself from her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She slipped out of her shoes, and stumbled over to the couch, collapsing onto it. "Worth every look Ruby's going to give me tomorrow," she said, her laugh breathy.

Killian managed to make it to the chair, his lower back on fire. "Whale? Of all the people, love..."

"Sorry," she apologized, sincerely. "I thought he might set you off the fastest..."

"Bloody right he does," he muttered darkly.

She sat up, and reached over, taking his hand in hers. "Hey. I won't do it again, alright?"

He nodded. After a moment, he turned his hand to clasp hers. "The rest of it, though... that was grand."

"You're a sucker for punishment, aren't you?" She asked dryly.

"Depends on who's doing the punishing, love," he taunted.

She leaned over the arm of the couch, their faces close. Their foreheads touched, noses brushing together. "If you don't get me out of this teddy, and I might punish you again," she murmured.

"Maybe I won't," he breathed.

She laughed, and he got up, whisking her off the couch and into the bedroom, closing the door behind him with his foot.