Emma has a beauty mark on her right breast, near her sternum. A brown smudge of cinnamon against the cream of her skin.
The first time he kissed it, she rolled her eyes and grinned before pulling him up to her lips. He had been pressed up against her like a springily lad with his first love behind a barn. They were in the back hall of Granny's outside his room after a simple dinner date of grilled cheese and onion rings (he finds that she likes the beer batter dipped ones but will take the crunchy ones with cayenne pepper if she has to).
It had grown warm in the dinner, and Emma had stripped off her sweater leaving her in just a black tank top. It was not the first time he had seen in her in such a revealing garment, nor was it the first time he had noticed the beauty mark.
Killian had spent most of their time in Neverland snatching glances of her exposed skin, wondering if he would ever be giving the chance to ravish and worship it as he willed.
Emma's breath had been warm on his neck, as he had started to whisper dirty things to her. His tongue had flicked out and traced the shell of her ear before his lips had found her earlobe. She had made delightful noises as he sucked on it.
A giggling Ruby cut their time in the hallway short. She gave them a wolf whistle and told them they should probably be using the room Killian pays for to get frisky. Sometimes he wondered if he would ever understand all of the aphorisms of this realm.
The second time he kissed it, his head was resting on her chest. It took all of Killian's remaining strength to move that much. Blood and torn clothes adorned them after another battle, but neither could bring themselves to move off the settee in the loft. The weariness was bone deep, leaving nothing but aches and stings.
Emma had shifted slightly, her lips brushing against his unruly black hair. He buried his face against her cleavage, taking comfort in her scent (cinnamon and cloves mixed with sweat and smoke) and the warmth of her body. They both thought they had lost the other. Luckily, the Charming family moto had held true. They had and would always find each other.
The third time Killian kissed the mark; the couple, locked away in his quarters on the Jolly Rodger, were in flagrante delicto. His teeth had grazed her collar bone before trailing down to the little cinnamon smudge on her breast. Tongue lapping at, tasting the soft flesh.
Straddling him, Emma had moaned with each slow, stretching thrust she met. She was glorious above him, golden hair falling over her shoulders. She was his wanton goddess come to claim his heart and soul (as if she didn't already possess both). Killian knew as he thrust deep inside her wet, scorching body that he could never get enough. He would spend the rest of his life mapping her body, starting with that little beauty mark.
