There had to be something wrong with her. No sane woman in her situation would being feeling what she did. Who in their right mind finds herself lusting after the pirate that had nearly sunk her royal vessel and stolen her aboard his ship? She should have been terrified of the man instead of wishing to know more about him. Her crew had nearly been slaughtered by the pirate crew and yet she hadn't seen a single drop of blood spilled among them. He'd left them stranded in a useless ship, but he hadn't set it ablaze or sunk into the depths of the sea.
He wasn't like the pirates of lore and that was what drew her in.
"Cap'n wishes to see ya in his cabin."
The other pirate nudged the first in the ribs. "Ya mean in his bunk!"
Emma's brows furrowed together as the one pirate jerked at the rope that bound her wrists. Her eyes flared as she looked between the two men, fully aware of their lecherous gazes. "If he does desire me in his bunk, perhaps the two of you should control where your eyes go." She said firmly.
She wasn't one to go easy and she sure as hell wasn't about to put up with a sex-depraved crew ogling at her. Her parents had always said it was a miracle she hadn't found herself in more trouble than she had, with a mouth like hers. Both of them had been stubborn in their youth and it had been multiplied tenfold with their daughter.
"This one's feisty." One commented, jerking harder at the rope as if to punctuate his irritation with her.
They led her up a flight of stairs, only to lead her down a second set that brought her into the Captain's quarters.
"Smaller than I expected." Emma said crisply, as her eyes flickered around the room, spotting the shadowy figure of the Captain seated behind his desk. He certainly knew how to look menacing, having sat himself directly out of the warm glow of the lantern on his desk.
"You're dismissed." She hadn't heard him speak since they'd boarded the ship, he'd muttered orders to a rather daft looking man in a red cap, before he'd vanished down into his quarters, presumably.
As soon as the hatch above clicked closed, he rose from his seated position, stepping into the light. Gods above he was handsome.
"Hello, Captain." Emma said as evenly as she could. Her heart was pounding in her chest, so hard that she could hear the blood pumping in her ears. His presence reinforced her comment about how small his quarters were. He seemed to fill every nook and cranny in the small room, making it feel even tinier.
"Hello, princess." He drawled out, his voice rich and heavily accented. No one ever warned her about incredibly handsome, lust inducing pirates. They were always hideous, lecherous men – like the ones that had come to collect her.
"Did my men behave?" He questioned, stepping even further into the light and nearer to her. The pirate captain reached out to take the rope the men had led her by, using the point of his hook to tear the material from her wrists.
"They could use manners." Emma bit out, grimacing as she rubbed at her wrists.
"Let me see."
"It's fine-" She started to say, fully intending to down play the reddened rope burns, but he took her wrists into his one hand and examined them carefully. That was something else no one had told her to expect – concerned pirates.
"These should be treated. We wouldn't want you to get an infection." He released her hands and moved back across the space, searching around on his desk for something.
Emma stood there, her mouth slightly agape as she took in the pirate that was there before her. In his company it was hard to remember that she'd been aboard her ship, destined for a marriage bed. She'd only met her intended husband once before, when they were children and the Dark One had come to visit her parent's kingdom, after that she knew that a promise had been made to marry her to the young boy when she turned twenty-one.
Because that young man would never be the pirate stood there before her.
"Rum." He informed her a half-second before he was pouring the golden liquid over her wrists.
"Fuck." She swore, well aware that it was a rather crass thing coming from a princess. But she was aboard a pirate ship, who would care what she said or… did.
The pirate chuckled, his thumb gently brushing over her skin as he turned her arm over to inspect her wrist once more. "Perhaps that could be arranged."
"What?" Emma blinked, before realizing what he meant. "Oh. No, no… that's fine." She stuttered out, feeling flustered and incredibly hot. "Those men said that you wished to see me?" Her voice wavered as she spoke, trying to muster up her usual sure-of-herself tone, "Is this where you unveil your dastardly plan to rape me and turn me over to Regina or something?"
He chuckled again and it wasn't the least bit malicious, "There's nothing pleasurable about taking a woman who doesn't want you." He informed her, and despite stories that begged to differ, Emma believed his words. "But, if you do decide you desire to fuck me, princess, don't stand on ceremony."
Emma swallowed thickly, thankful for the dim lighting in his cabin, because her face had gone crimson. Not to mention the fact that his words had sent desire lancing through her, right to the core. She was honestly considering that offer and she should have been mortified. But her gaze dropped to his lips and she couldn't help but notice how incredibly kissable his lips were.
"Perhaps later pirate." Emma retorted. By the look in his eyes, she had a feeling that he saw right through her bluff of confidence. Did she reek of being an inexperienced virginal princess? She tilted her chin, meeting his gaze. "Are you working for Regina?"
He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Once upon a time I worked for that damned witch and her mother too." His tongue swept over his lips, catching her attention again. "But that was twenty-one years ago when her curse failed miserably."
Her eyes widened, "Weren't you ten then?" Even in the dim light he didn't look a day over thirty.
The pirate smirked at her, using his hook to toy with a strand of her flax-golden hair that had fallen loose from her braid. "Neverland, darling."
"Oh." So that was real. Emma faltered, her gaze dropping to the floor between them, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. Perhaps she shouldn't have dropped her gaze, because on the decent downwards, she noted the rather… prominent bulge in his leather trousers. She knew enough about sex, to know that that was no different of a response than the wet heat she felt between her thighs.
"Then who do you work for?" She couldn't summon words above a whisper as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes. Emma was acutely aware that he was closer to her now, she could smell his rum-soaked breath as it mingled with hers.
"I work for myself now." He drawled out, tilting his head just right so that his lips were almost brushing against hers.
His offer was looking incredibly appealing right now. She didn't even care if it hurt like her handmaidens had told her it would. Propriety aside, Emma found the idea of having this pirate be her first, more arousing than it should have been.
"What's your name?" Emma breathed out, her heart rate spiking as her lips brushed his as she spoke.
"Killian Jones, though to my crew I'm Captain Hook."
Emma reached up and curled her fingers around the material of his shirt at the point of the deep V-neck of his shirt. "Killian, is a very nice name." She told him, rising up on her toes to bridge the distance between them finally.
Her mother would kill her and her father would have this pirate's other hand for this.
Killian's arm wrapped around her, pulling her flush against him. She no longer had to imagine what the bulge felt like, acutely aware of the hardness pressing against her hip. Emma's hands slid over his shoulders, clinging to him to stay upright, as she met his desire and intensity with her own.
Her lips parted and she moaned as his tongue slipped past her teeth to explore her mouth. He tasted like rum and sea salt, two things she never imagined craving more of. Her teeth crazed his bottom lip as their tongues tangled together. Pillage and plunder had a whole new meaning now.
Emma had never heard her handmaidens talking about anything like this. They never told her about the hot pool of desire that settled in her lower belly or the way every nerve in her body seemed to be firing off one signal – need.
A pirate. She was giving herself to a pirate. She should have been horrified and disgusted and yet her fingers fumbled with his as they worked at the laces of her bodice. The thing was terribly uncomfortable as it was and she'd wanted to get it off since her own ship had set sail, but this seemed wholly more preferable. Because the moment it slid from around her chest and she was left in only a filmy blouse, Killian's mouth descended down her throat and along her collarbone, to latch onto her breast.
Emma inhaled sharply, gripping his shoulder even tighter as he worked her taut flesh through the thin material. It was an exquisite feeling – one she'd only learned about from the pages of some novel she'd found in the library, that would have been banded if her parents had known about it.
Her skin felt too hot and too tight as his mouth found her other nipple, paying it the same torturous treatment that made her moan and practically whimper for a release from something she knew so little about. Her center ached to be filled, a sensation she had never felt before, and no amount of pressing her thighs together eased the need.
"Killian." She breathed out, feeling his shoulders tense beneath her hold. Was that not the name he wanted her to call him?
Emma tilted her head, meeting his too-blue eyes. "Say it again."
Her breath caught in the back of her throat, her legs feeling even wobblier now. "Killian."
The pirate's mouth claimed hers again. The kiss was hard and desperate and she was certain her lips would show the tale-tell signs of the kiss tomorrow. Red marks from the bristles of his beard raking over her pale skin.
"What do you want princess?" Killian growled out as he pulled back from the kiss, his fingers seeking purchase at her hip. "Tell me, love."
Emma's eyes widened innocently, "I don't know." She admitted, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.
He surprised her when his hand loosened at her hip and he brought it up to her cheek as he tilted her head and kissed her with a tenderness that their other kisses hadn't had. The pirate steered her backwards, until she felt the edge of his bed hit the backs of her legs.
"I won't hurt you, love." He murmured, brushing his lips over hers gently.
Emma's lashes fluttered as she looked up at him. This pirate was not like anything she'd ever expected. He had manners that she hadn't been anticipating, given the behavior of his crew. His heart wasn't in the piracy, she could see that much from the tender look in his eyes.
Was he asking her for permission to take this further? He hadn't moved since he'd brought her to the edge of his bed, hadn't acted upon his rather apparent need that was pressed against her thigh.
She took a deep fortifying breath as she reached down to take his hand in hers. Emma had always been bold when it came to everything, but she was certain her next move was the boldest action she'd ever taken in her life. The princess curled her fingers around his hand as she drew her skirts upwards, placing his hand between her thighs.
The both inhaled sharply at the contact.
"Well then, little princess." Killian whispered, his voice thick with what she could only assume was desire. His fingers danced feather-light over her aching flesh through the thin material of her cotton bloomers. Royal life demanded so many layers to be worn and this was one that she wished she'd forgone this morning.
Emma felt emboldened by his actions, spurred on by the desire that was coursing through her veins. "Aren't these getting tight?" She questioned lowly, her fingers lightly playing over the laces of his trousers, feeling him there beneath her fingertips.
"Easy, love." He gritted out, brushing her hand away with his hook. "This is about you."
He didn't give her a chance to protest that fact as he hauled her up with little ceremony and deposited her on the bed. Emma's heart raced as his weight pressed her back against the thin mattress of his cot.
A princess, set to be married to the Dark One's son, showed no fear at the fact that a pirate was very likely going to take what would have been her intended husband's honor. And she didn't give a damn.
Killian's lips returned to their previous position at her collarbone, taking his sweet time as he journeyed downward, his tongue darting out to soothe every inch of skin that his teeth scraped over. Emma slid her hands between them, working her shirt upwards over her abdomen, finally tugging the material up over her breasts, before she tossed it off the bed. It took her a full moment to realize that she'd bared herself, from the waist up, to the pirate, and even then any form of horror at the action was lost in the incredible sensation of his lips against her breasts.
No one had ever told her to expect anything like this. It had always been so simple, like a duty that had to be performed to bare heirs to a kingdom. She'd been dreading her marriage and what came after, fearing that it would hurt and be awful, like she knew very well that it could be.
Emma's back bowed up off the bed, her hips rocking upwards wanting to feel his hand between them again, to soothe the fire that was burning there for him. She wanted him, even though the want was so foreign to her.
"Please." She moaned out as his fingers twisted her neglected nipple, working it in tandem with what his lips and his tongue were doing to the other. Emma's lips parted with a cry like sound as her stomach clenched, her muscles trembling with a release that only partially soothed the ache she felt for him.
Killian pulled back from her breasts with a positively sinful grin plastered to his face. His eyes raked over her face, as he leaned up to kiss her, his tongue invading her mouth, before he abandoned her, leaving her breathless.
"That, my darling, was only the beginning of what you're going to feel tonight." He assured her, his knuckles brushing over cheek gently. "I'm impressed, you look like you don't even know what that was."
Emma's eyes widened and she licked her lips, "Sheltered princess." She gestured to herself, "Care to enlighten?"
Killian smirked, "I enlighten by example." He informed her, tugging at the drawstring of her skirt that had somehow turned nearly completely around her in the heat of things. He dipped down and kissed her stomach, just below her navel. "Tell me princess, have your hands never wandered?"
Emma shook her head, going red – despite everything else he'd done thus far.
"I should have known."
She rolled her eyes. "No need to be smug, Captain."
"Your kiss screamed sexual frustration." He nipped at the flesh he had just kissed.
"You kissed just the same." She snapped back, with no small amount of sass. "Are you sexually frustrated too, Captain?"
"Aye, I am." Killian kissed lower, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. "It's been a very long time since I've had someone." And she believed him. She'd always been good at reading people, it had been her 'special skill' since she was a toddler and his eyes held nothing but the utmost sincerity.
Her lashes fluttered, "We can't have that, now can we?" Her voice was a little huskier then as he slid her bloomers down her thighs, exposing her to him completely.
"Ah, love," He tsked, "I have already said that this is about you. I have one hand, I'll tend to myself later. This is about you."
Emma's lips parted and the first sounds of her question started to come from her mouth, questioning him on how he could satisfy her, without satisfying himself, when the answer came in the form of his mouth pressing against her slick flesh.
He kissed her there like he'd kissed her lips. His tongue swirling against her center, teasing her and tasting her. Her fingers found their way into his thick dark hair, tugging as he worked mercilessly against her overly sensitive folds.
Killian pulled back, licking his lips, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at her. "How do you feel, lass?" He questioned, dipping down to press a kiss to her inner thigh.
Emma inhaled sharply, "Like I want you to make me… whatever that was, again."
"You want me to make you come." Killian drawled out, his voice low and rough, his accent that much thicker sounding. If she wasn't already slick and achey, that tone alone could make her. "Say it princess."
Emma tugged at his hair, a smirk playing over her lips. "I want to come." She told him, not a plea but a command.
Killian chuckled, his lips brushing along her inner thigh again, his smirk pressed against her skin. "You're quite the woman, lass." He growled out.
Emma rocked her hips upwards, proving that she could be bold even in her inexperience. "I said, I want to come."
The look on his face would have been dangerous were he in any other position. If his only weapon weren't his fingers and his mouth. He growled again, a sound that rumbled low in the back of his throat, as he used his hook to press her hips down, his fingers sweeping between her thighs.
"You want to come, do you lass?" He taunted, pressing the very tip of his finger into her, making her shudder in anticipation. She should have been afraid of the dark look in his eye and he way his lips curled upwards, but it only made her lust for him more.
"Yes." Emma panted out, as he slid a single digit into her. The sensation was short lived as he pulled his finger from her, leaving her aching for him again. He hesitated, fully on purpose, chuckling at the way her hips rocked upwards, the way she spread her thighs wider. "Killian."
She cried out, not from pain but from pressure as he pressed his finger into her again, joined by a second as his mouth found some little bundle of nerves that had her writhing beneath his touch. She gripped the bed sheets and his hair all the same, tugging and pulling and seeking purchase as he thrust his fingers in and out of her.
Her back bowed off the bed to an almost painful point as she ground herself against his fingers. She came again with a shout of his name, which should have brought her shame knowing that his crew would be all too aware of what had happened between them. He thrust his fingers in and out of her, until he'd coaxed the last of her release from her, leaving her limp there on his bed.
"I've left you intact."
Emma's lashes fluttered as she tilted her head to look down at him, noting the way that the muscle in his jaw ticked as he pulled away from her. His lips were pressed thin, his brows creased together.
"What?"
Killian looked away, "For your future husband. I've left you intact, he'll know no difference." He moved to get off the bed and she scrambled from her prone position to grab his arm.
"How do you know that?" She felt a whirl of emotion then. He knew about her betrothal. She felt as though she'd been struck across the face, but what surprised her more was the fact that he wore an expression that matched how she felt.
Though his lips pressed thin, his eyes seemed wounded. "Your dear Baelfire is my enemy's son."
Her heart all but stopped, her fingers digging into his arm. "Is that why you took me? Am I the ransom for some act of vengeance?" Anger flared within her. She felt betrayed. She'd bared herself to this pirate, this stranger, and in return the truth was an ugly one.
"Perhaps." He said simply, jerking from her hold as he gathered her clothes from the floor, tossing them onto the bed beside her. "Dress yourself, lass." Killian ordered, though his words were far gentler than she'd expected.
"I will do so in my own time." Emma snapped back. "Am I to go back to the hold? You might as well grab the rope too." She gritted out, her eyes narrowing as the pirate eyed her.
"You're not a prisoner, you're my guest." He told her simply. "You'll dine with me each evening and be free to do as you please during the day."
She searched his face, trying to read him, but for once he seemed completely unreadable, his expression more stoic than before. "And where am I to sleep? Your bed? The floor?"
"You'll be put up in one of the rooms below deck, away from the rest of the crew. I'll ensure that they won't lay a hand on you."
"Will you now?" She jerked her blouse on, her actions clearly indicating her frustration. She felt betrayed, which was foolish and she knew it was immature of her to have assumed that a pirate could be a good man, despite what every lore and legend said. He had played her and for what gain she didn't want to know. She could only be thankful that the pirate hadn't completely ruined her, as he had told her, and even that confused her.
She forced herself to get out of the bed, sliding her bloomers back on and tugging her skirt on over them. She wanted to get dressed and get out of there as soon as possible. She didn't care what his crew might say or think, she didn't care if they called the Captain's whore or any other variety of degrading names.
"Emma."
She stopped dead in her tracks, looking back over her shoulder at the pirate. "It's Your Highness." She corrected crisply, her fingers bunching her skirts in her fists. "You don't know me."
He stiffened. "Then it's Captain, lass. If you dislike familiarity between us so much, then formality it shall be."
Emma swallowed thickly as she watched him turn away from her. She didn't understand what is angle was with this. Had this even been part of his plan? Something about his demeanor and the way that he'd looked at her, told her that his intention had never been to bed her. He'd said it himself, he hadn't another woman in a very long time, and if he'd been to Neverland – it might have been a very long time. He should have been perfectly capable of resisting whatever this pull had been between them, and yet…
She tore her eyes from the back of his head, taking another step forward and then another, until she was ascending the ladder to escape the tiny space that was filled with his presence. But his scent clung to her clothes and to her skin, she could smell him on her, feel his touch and his weight.
While he might have considered her his guest, she felt like a prisoner aboard his ship. Not even his prisoner, but a prisoner to whatever this situation had just become. She should have known from the moment she first met him, that there as something more laying beneath the surface.