(Rated M) This would probably be considered smuff. PWP. Happy 24 hours till New York Serenade!
It was dark as Emma padded across the deck of the Jolly Roger. She'd had a relaxing evening with Henry and Roland. They'd shown Roland the wonders of Legos and spend hours building a castle of their own. Roland idolized Henry and despite his half-hearted complaints if the boy followed him around incessantly, she knew Henry was beyond excited to have a little brother, even if it wasn't by blood. Regina had been out with the famous hooded vigilante and it was the start of her week with Henry. When she arrived to get the boys, the creases in Regina's usually impeccably steamed dress and her ruffled hair had raised Emma suspicions as to why she may have been "held up" longer than expected.
She hoped Killian didn't mind the delay and for the fifth time this week she cursed his lack of a cell phone as she climbed belowdecks. It was just another thing to put on the "Get Killian Acclimated" list (along with driving and properly using kitchen appliances). He was only Hook occasionally now, sometimes in bed when he was particularly filthy or interjected affectionately into random conversation. To everyone else now he was Killian, but a part of him would always be Hook for her, just as she was Swan for him. Even in the few verbal clashes they'd had she'd refused to throw the moniker in his face, understanding how important it was for him to reclaim that identity.
When she quietly pushed open the door to his cabin he jumped up from where he was lounging at the small table in the middle of the room. His brace nor hook were to be seen and the warm feeling in her chest rose as she realized how comfortable they'd grown together. (Truthfully some nights she did enjoy when the hook made and appearance – but that was beside the point.)
For the most part, Killian had taken to dressing in clothing from this realm (finally – he was walking sex in a Henley) but tonight he was in a simple black shirt and thin cotton pants clearly from the Enchanted Forest. Apparently he'd grown weary after only doing up three buttons and given up on the rest. She couldn't really complain though as she appreciated the large expanse of exposed chest, dusted with a healthy dose of dark hair. She bit her lip in anticipation as he stalked towards her, his blue eyes darkening as he caught the way she looked him up and down.
She stuttered a quiet hello as he slid his hand and arm around her. His offered greeting came in the form of a searing kiss. She melted into his arms as his scruff scratched gently against her skin, his head tilting. He explored her mouth, languid and sensual, until he placed a final peck against her lips and rested his forehead on hers.
"You're late," he rumbled, his nose nuzzling at her cheek.
"I'm sorry," she sighed as his scruff brushed over her skin again, "Regina was late picking up the boys, I think your mate Robin might have had something to do with that."
Killian smirked and stole another kiss, "I can't say I blame the man," he chuckled, "I certainly know what taking up with a beautiful woman will do to you." As if in an example, he pressed his hips against hers and she felt the growing bulge his pants did nothing to constrain.
She tried to hold off on the steadily increasing heat between her thighs as she feigned indignant surprise, "So you have a thing for Regina?"
Emma loved that they were at this point, he fit so perfectly in her life and some days she could hardly believe she was finally this lucky. Her laughter and smiles were easy and the man's affection for her was palpable every time he looked at her. It was fitting that they had both endured so much to find each other.
A huff and the quick snap of his head indicated she was in for full-on sass from the pirate. She'd already gotten the reaction she'd wanted from her teasing and so held up a finger and tapped on his lips, "Only joking, Captain."
At the use of the title, Killian growled and crushed her to him, molding his lips across hers. The bantering portion of the evening was decidedly done as he twisted his fingers in her hair and roughly nipped her lower lip. His hips rocked into hers again as she slipped her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his. He must have been at the rum before she arrived because she could taste the heady alcohol and spice as he took his turned plundering her mouth.
Despite the friction he was providing, it was nowhere near enough and Emma steered him back the chair he had vacated and shoved down on his shoulders. He got the hint to sit and his pupils widened as she straddled him, now at the perfect place to grind against him. She made him wait though, kissing him fiercely and ignoring the fingers dug into her hips urging her to move.
"Emma," he groaned between her lips, "Don't tease, love."
"You only had to ask," she purred, rolling her hips, enjoying the strangled noise from his throat. Killian's hand fisted on the bottom of her shirt and wrenched up, she grabbed it and pulled it over her head. Before she'd gotten it off he was pressing open mouthed kisses to her chest. His tongue slid between the curve of her breasts and she ran her fingers through his hair as he pulled aside the cup of her bra to latch down on her nipple.
She arched into Killian under his assault and her feet scrabbled on the floor for balance, his left arm cradled her back in an attempt to help keep her upright. Moving to the other breast, he forced her bra down to her waist to give him better access. He swirled his tongue around and she ground down onto him desperately.
Her whimpered, "Killian," sent him into overdrive. Their lips clashed together again, messy and needy, and his fingers went to flip open the button on her jeans and shoved in them. She moaned as his fingers met her slick folds and he cursed under his breath. She needed more.
Emma stumbled back off his lap, already yanking down her jeans. "Off," she ordered, nodding at his pants, back and straddling him before he could shove them past his knees. Bra around her waist and underwear still on she felt wanton and powerful as he stared at her like he'd never seen the light. His shirt still on and pants halfway on, she couldn't help but think he looked more wrecked than she did.
He reached up to stroke his thumb against her cheek. "You're a bloody vision, Swan," he rasped, his cock pressing against her center.
She captured his lips, pulling her underwear aside with one hand and grasping him with the other, humming smugly at his muffled curse. Slowly she sank down on him, sighing at the stretch. Emma could feel him trembling beneath her with the effort not to move. She swirled her hips experimentally, her breath coming in ragged gulps. Killian exhaled forcibly and his head dropped back, eyes screwed shut. As she fastened her lips onto his exposed neck, he moaned, hips bucking up to meet her.
Fuck he felt good.
Feet flat on the floor for leverage, she rode down on him, the silence punctuated by the creaking chair and their gasping breath and muttered curses. The burn in her legs muscles was sweet and hell if her blood didn't boil as he murmured obscene encouragements in her ear. "Gods, just like that" or "Bloody hell, don't stop" and "So fucking perfect, Swan."
Soon his control shattered and he surged forward, cradling her as they hit the floor. And yes this was perfect she thought as he drove into her, underwear shoved aside, her shoulder blades pressed roughly against the hard wooden floor.
His fingers pressed on her clit through the fabric and she couldn't help his name escaping her lips as he rubbed in frantic time with his thrusts. Her hands fisted in the back of his shirt and oh god he was hitting the right spot, right there. It not enough but too much and then she was over the edge, writhing against him as he covered her mouth with his, muffling her cry. Fucking hell. It was though the haze of pleasure she felt him stiffened above her. A groan rose from his chest as he spilled into her, the spasms still rolling through her. He collapsed down on her, his weight delicious as he crushed her closer.
When his hips stopped rutting gently against her, she wilted against the floorboards, sated and spent. With a sigh her hands unclamped from his shirt and fell away. "Well, fuck," she commented, pushing sweaty hair from her forehead.
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her lips, hand sliding up her sweat soaked body to cup her jaw, "That we did."
She hummed contentedly as his tongue gently traced her lips and they came down together with tender and unhurried kisses. They rose as she started to shiver from the draft rising between the boards, untangling their limbs and making their way to his bed, finally taking the time to strip off their remaining clothing.
When they were snuggled together and her nose tucked in the small of his chest Emma felt brave enough to say it. "I love you," she whispered, pressing a kiss on his skin. It still wasn't easy for her, but she was getting better.
"I know, love," he rumbled, his arms tightening around her, "And I, you."
