She can feel the gentle rocking of the boat, and it soothes her in more ways than one. Letting out a long sigh, she reaches for the towel Killian gave her and rolls up her sleeves. The soap and water are welcome after her stay in the tower, and she doesn't waste another moment cleaning her hands and face with quick determination. If only she could wash away the memories of being locked in a dungeon, powerless.
After Lily was defeated, they sailed for hours towards the Enchanted Forest. It was thrilling to finally be free, and to be in the company of her two favorite boys just made it all that much sweeter. Seeing them both again (and together!) was a like the sun rising after a long dark night. She knew they had a wedding to crash, but she never wanted this reverie to end. So when Killian suggested dropping anchor for the night and making way in the morning so as to avoid Blackbeard and his crew, she quickly agreed. They managed to take cover in a small cove, and for now all seems peaceful.
If the thought of spending the night in the captain's quarters with a certain dashing pirate crossed her mind, so sue her. After being caged and tortured, surely she deserves the solace of his company. Even if it's only for one night, because she knows tomorrow everything may go to hell in a handbasket. She couldn't let this opportunity to be with him pass, to make herself known to this new version of her lover. Now if only she can help him get past his insecurities and lack of memory and turn him on to her plan. Shouldn't be that hard, she thinks wrily. He and I both know I'm his type. The anticipation of what she's about to do sends a ripple of nervous energy throughout her entire body.
He knocks lightly and the door opens tentatively.
"Milady? Are you finding everything you need?" he asks.
"Yes, thank you. Please come in." she calls, dropping the towel near the water basin, and tucking her hair behind her ears. She presses her lips together, hoping to darken them slightly.
Killian enters the room hesitantly, his cheeks coloring and scratching behind his ear. She can't help but smirk at this familiar habit, made even twice as adorable by his newfound bashfulness. Even still, his presence sets her heart to beating at a faster clip, as if the atoms in the room have suddenly shifted.
"And Master Henry, did he get himself settled in the crew's quarters?" he inquires.
Emma moves toward him slowly, one step at a time, her skirts swirling around her. She feels a bit like a cat stalking its prey. Closing the distance between them, she can see his long eyelashes fluttering dark against his cheeks, his eyelids hooding the deep blue of his eyes.
"Yes, Henry is all tucked in. Pretty sure he's asleep already after the adventure he's had today." she tells him.
She watches him duck his head and avert his gaze, clearly nervous. "Glad to hear it. He's a smart lad, that Henry. And quite brave, too. You must be very proud." he says, smiling softly at her. Quickly he continues, "Right, then. If you have everything you need, I'll just make my way back to quarters and find myself a bunk. We'll need to be up bright and early if we want to slip past the Queen's guards and Blackbeard's crew."
He turns to exit, but Emma grabs his arm. "Killian, wait! Please," her eyes entreat him. "Please don't go."
Emma pulls him toward her, and he releases his grip on the door, letting it close slowly.
"What is it?" he asks, his eyes searching hers, all concern and solicitude.
Instead of answering, Emma dares to move even closer, putting both hands on his chest the way she did when she crashed into him in the hallway. He is warm and solid under her palms, and damnit if she doesn't want to feel every inch of him pressed up against her. God, I've missed you.
She looks up into his too-blue eyes, and she can see his breath catch, as his adam's apple bobs up and down. He's caught in her gaze, and she has no plans to release him anytime soon.
"I know you don't remember me, but - I remember you. The real you. And I've missed you so much I can feel it like an ache in my bones."
There is both delight and confusion on his face, and she can see that he is perplexed.
Desire pulls fiercely at her heart as he studies her, and she can feel something spark in the air, like a match being lit as all oxygen empties her lungs. He's so handsome. She searches his eyes for a hint of the real Killian, drawing closer to him. She finds hunger there and also a flicker of recognition, though of what she doesn't know. He looks as though he's trying to find something to say, but failing.
A beat passes in silence. She knows she is taking a risk here, but she just needs him, needs him like her last breath of air. She looks at his lips, softly parted, and can feel the magnetism between them pulling her closer. So drawn to him. Always so drawn to him. Even when she was too scared to admit it. He's staring at her mouth now, and she knows she has him caught in her web. Standing on her tippy toes, she presses her lips to his, tenderly but firmly, his lips soft and warm. He tastes like the sea and something sweet she can't quite put her finger on, and she wants to devour him like a female lioness.
He returns her kiss, slowly at first, but then she feels his arms circling her shoulders and his body relaxing with a small puff of air on her cheek. She darts her tongue out, gently seeking entrance, and when she finally attains it they both moan in unison. The kiss deepens, and she can feel his hand cradling her head, as his hook finds its place at her lower back. She's grabbing the lapels of his vest, her fingers almost cramping from exertion. Kissing him is like coming home, and it's everything she's dreamt about for what feels like an eternity. Her dress is either too warm, or they've just started a firestorm, because she wants nothing more than to rid herself of it immediately.
Suddenly he's pulling back, and she releases his mouth reluctantly, chasing his lips. She keeps herself anchored to him at the collar, because she's honestly not sure if she can still stand up straight.
"Emma….I….I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. My apologies, love. It's not like me to be so ungentleman-like,." he says, shaking his head.
She can see that he's at war with himself, and she feels a pang of guilt wash over her. He's looking at her, but he just doesn't see her, not really, and suddenly she knows exactly how he must have felt that morning in New York, when he showed up on her doorstep.
"You have nothing to apologize for, Killian. I thought perhaps if we kissed, you might remember something - about our other life," she tells him, a small sad smile on her face.
He considers her before speaking. "Emma, I believe you when you say there is something between us, even if it's in another life. I feel, I mean, you've bewitched me already, and I only just met you," he tells her gingerly with a look of complete adoration, and she can't help but broaden her smile, hope rushing through her like a drug.
"Then stay with me tonight, Killian. I want to be with you. I don't want to be alone," she presses him, her arms snaking around his waist, as he searches her wide green eyes. "Perhaps I can teach you a thing or two about what you've been missing in this life. Besides, I thought you were a pirate, aren't you supposed to be pillaging and plundering?" she teases him for good measure, lifting one perfectly arched brow.
At that he chuckles, blushing brightly again and ducking his head. His earnestness returns, though. "Tell me, in this other life….we mean something to each other? A great deal?" he implores.
"Not something, Killian. Everything," she tells him, with every ounce of sincerity she can muster. "You mean everything to me," she half-whispers, realization dawning.
She can see the last vestiges of his control snap, as passion and desire flood his face. Then his lips are crushing hers and she can no longer think of anything but the warmth spreading through her body, starting in her chest and rapidly moving outwards. She loves him. She loves him. It was never more apparent to her than in this moment, even if he barely resembles the man he used to be. His kiss is the same, though, and right now it's sending shockwaves through her body, making her dizzy and weak in the knees. Oh yes. This I can work with.
Their hands are everywhere as they stagger backwards towards the bed, tongues and teeth clashing in a fierce battle. She deftly begins unbuttoning his vest as he grabs handfuls of her hair. Vest removed, she works at pulling his shirt free from his pants, and he cooperates freely as she lifts it over his head. His hand finds the zipper at the back of her dress and he begins to tug it down slowly. She stops kissing him momentarily so she can let the dress fall to the ground, stepping out of it and kicking it aside. She's wearing only a scrap of panties and a lace bra, and when she looks up at him again, his eyes are as round as saucers.
"Oh, Emma," he breathes. His eyes are scanning her body from head to toe, as if seeing her for the first time, and she can feel goosebumps rise up on every inch of flesh his gaze touches. It's absolutely electric, and suddenly her body is weightless except for a heavy pounding between her legs. Her pulse is thrumming wildly and she finds her throat is suddenly dry as she swallows. Of course they've done this before, but somehow it all feels new again.
The Killian she is used to is all bravado and innuendo, masterful in the bedroom, always taking the lead. This Killian is a new thing altogether. He looks at her likes she is a goddess while he is a mere mortal. And while he's entirely different, he's also endearing in his modesty. She can feel her heart clench a little more at getting to experience this side of him. The look on his face is priceless, and suddenly she wants him so badly she can't think straight.
He closes the space between them, a shy smile on his face. "I don't know what good fortune brought you to me, but I thank the gods above," he professes so ardently she almost laughs.
"Shut up and kiss me," she instructs him and he seems more than happy to oblige. His hands have slowed, however, and she can feel but a whisper of his fingertips trailing down her spine, almost as if he's afraid to touch her. She reaches behind her to release the clasp of her bra, and when she's removed it completely, she guides his hand from her shoulder down her chest slowly, until his hand is cupping her breast. Heaven. His ringed thumb rubs across her nipple as he squeezes gently. He watches her tongue glide across her lower lip with fervent interest, until they meet in the middle for another passionate kiss.
Feeling him hard against her, she reaches down to caress him through the leather of his pants. He inhales sharply as she begins to stroke him with a sure hand. Seeing the unrestrained lust in his face makes her ache with a need so strong she resolves to take him right there on the spot.
"Oh….ah…..ah," Killian's face suddenly contorts and his hips spring back from hers.
What the hell? Did he just…?
"I'm sorry, love. I'm afraid I've not much experience with women," he says, his face every appearance of panicked embarrassment. "I'll return shortly," he says, fleeing the room before Emma can even respond.
Okay….maybe bashful deckhand Killian isn't quite up to the challenge, after all. She has to chuckle to herself, though. She's never gonna let Killian live this down when they get home. If they get home, she thinks, dejectedly. All the more reason she's determined to go through with this.
She blows her hair out of her eyes and reaches for his black shirt with the too-low buttons. Throwing it on over her head, she jumps up on the bed, then wraps the shirt around her, inhaling deeply. Still smells the same - like leather, the sea, and something spicy and warm. No rum, though, and she silently curses Rumple and the author once again.
Poor Killian, she thinks. She didn't mean to defile a virgin. Or so he believes he is. The idea of actually deflowering Killian makes her smile her most devilish grin. This could be a lot of fun, and when would she ever get this chance again? She just needs to be a bit more patient with him.
Speaking of patient, where is he? She starts to worry he is so mortified that he isn't going to come back, and she wonders if she should go look for him. Absentmindedly, she plays with the cuff of his shirt when the door opens again and he strides back into the room, looking every bit like a man on a mission. She smiles when she sees him, ogling him a bit if she's honest with herself because he's still not wearing anything besides his pants, and she can appreciate all of his lean muscles from her vantage point. Well hello, sailor.
Gods above, this woman may be the death of him. On the other hand, if he plays his cards right, she might just show him the heavens themselves. Ever since she slammed into him in the tower, causing him to entirely lose his faculties for a moment, she's had him completely under her spell. Now she's offering herself to him, and he'd be a fool to give up this opportunity to be with her. Spending the night in the arms of this spectacular woman seems a fitting end to the day he's had - quite possibly the best day of his paltry existence. Besides, he's helpless to resist her. If she wants him, he's hers, he's known it since the moment he laid eyes on her. His premature completion was bad form indeed, and right now he has a lot of making up to do.
After cleaning himself up, he makes it back to the captain's quarters, but pauses just outside the door. Pull yourself together, mate. Just the most beautiful woman you've ever seen waiting for you almost naked in there. He takes two deep breaths to steady himself, then walks through the door.
Bloody hell. He stops in his tracks, because he is not prepared for the sight before him. There she is, wearing his shirt, the deep V almost reaching down to her navel, with her legs spread and feet dangling from the bed. If he'd been worried about getting hard again he needn't have. He can feel every drop of blood in his body rushing to his nether regions.
The grin she gives him lets him know that she realizes with great clarity the effect she is having on him, and he sways on his feet.
"I want to apologize, Emma. That was bad form indeed," he starts.
"Shhh….come here, Killian," she beckons him.
Watching her eyes roam over his form quite seductively, he tentatively comes to stand right in between her legs, placing one hand and one hook on either side of her thighs. He's itching to run his hand up the smooth length of her glorious leg, but stops himself. Perhaps some restraint is in order if he is going to please her as much as he longs to.
Reaching out, she runs her hands across his chest, her fingers threading through his chest hair. At her touch, his whole body stills, tremors coursing through him. Then she brushes the fringe from his forehead, gently caressing his eyebrows and smoothing her palms down his cheeks to rest on either side of his chin. He's never been touched so gently before, and he wants to feel those hands everywhere on his body, burning his skin in the best way possible. The thought of her hand going between his thighs again has him growing so hard, it's almost painful. She's so soft, so feminine, it sparks something within him that makes him feel more manly than he's ever been allowed to feel as a lowly deckhand. He can feel himself panting, and he closes his eyes momentarily.
"You are so beautiful, you know that?" she tells him softly, causing him to blush and lose his composure once again. He grasps her wrists and pulls them from his face.
"I'm not the one who's beautiful. You're the most glorious creature I've ever laid eyes upon, Emma. Are you sure you're not a siren, luring me to my death most willingly?" he asks, smirking at her with a playfulness he didn't know he possessed.
Her eyes flash with mischief. "If I wanted to kill you, I could think of plenty of ways to make it a pleasurable experience," she teases.
"Emma, about earlier…" he entreats, but she cuts him off.
"Forgiven. Shall we start again?" she says matter-of-factly.
"If you'll have me," he replies, feeling as though she might still turn him down, for surely, he doesn't deserve her.
"There's nothing I want more," she answers him with dark eyes, and his heart blooms in his chest. She wants me. He's suddenly standing ten feet tall, and he knows for her he'd do almost anything.
Looking at her bare skin peeking out of his shirt, he can't help but run his fingertips down the smooth porcelain there, glancing over the sides of her breasts. He hears her sharp inhale as she closes her eyes and thinks that he just might be able to satisfy her needs after all. Pace yourself, mate.
"So beautiful, Swan," he tells her.
"What did you just call me?" she asks, her emerald eyes suddenly puzzled.
"It suits you, I suppose, sorry, if it bothers you -"
"It doesn't bother me at all...in fact…"
Grabbing his shoulders, she pulls him down on top of her on the bed, and they rotate until they are lined up perfectly, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle. When she lifts her head and her lips meet his again, he can feel the passion and the want in her kiss, and every part of his body feels like it's about to combust. Ohhh, yes. His pants and her shirt provide just enough of a barrier to prevent him from completely losing it again, and he focuses on what he'd like to accomplish before that can happen.
Kissing down her neck, he discovers a spot that has her writhing beneath him and is thrilled that he has the ability to elicit such a response. Her mouth comes to his shoulder, and she gently bites him there and swirls her tongue in intriguing patterns. Continuing up his neck, her tongue and lips explore his skin, and when she gets to his earlobe, sucking and breathing hot air against it, he can't help the groan that escapes him. "Oh Emma. I want you so badly," he breathes, choking back a moan as he feels her hips lift against him, grinding him hard.
His hand finds the hem of her shirt, and his palm slowly works its way up her side as he kisses her fiercely. Never has he shared kisses like this before, but somehow, with her, it just feels right. He uses his hook to pull her shirt away from her breast, revealing a taut pink nipple. Working his tongue over it, nipping and sucking, he experiments with the reactions he gets from her. When she suddenly gasps and bucks her hips, he can't help but smile at his accomplishment. He moves to the other breast, meanwhile running his good hand beneath her undergarment. He reaches her core, and she is ready for him, hot and slick. Closing his eyes, he thinks of anything he can to delay the force of his reaction. Scrubbing the deck, handing out sloppy brown rations, Blackbeard yelling at him, Mr. Smee's red cap...
"Oh, God yes," she moans as he strokes her wet folds and he knows he's all but done for. Moving the scrap of fabric down her legs, he continues his exploration. He silently catalogues every "ooh" and "ah" he's able to coax from her, reveling in the achievement. He wants to see her come undone for him so badly he can taste it. The pleasure he sees in her face is more satisfying than anything else he can think of. Pleasuring this woman is like nothing he's ever experienced, yet it is oddly familiar at the same time, like perhaps he's dreamt of this very moment.
Unsure of how much longer he can last, he draws the shirt up over her head, releasing her arms. Every inch of her skin is now open to him, and he'd like to spend a lifetime mapping out every curve and plane. Kissing her deeply, he can feel the the soft swell of her breasts beneath his chest, and her legs wrapping firmly around his lower back. He rocks his hips into her, savoring the sensation. So close, but not quite enough.
"Are you ready?" he asks her, still a bit unsure of himself.
She's panting hard but manages to nod and say, "Yes," her fingers finding the top of his pants as she helps him push them down and off his legs.
The feel of their naked bodies pressed together is almost enough to unravel him, but still he wants more. He wants to be deep within her, to feel her capture him, to cease being himself and instead become one with her. He knows it shouldn't be possible to fall in love with someone in so short a span of time, but he's not sure what else to call the depth of emotion storming inside him, flaring against his chest.
He pauses at her entrance, steeling himself for the flood of sensation that's about to overcome him. He captures her lips at the precise moment he surges forward, and the world spirals out of control, swirling them together in a force beyond comprehension. Then he's moving again, and he vaguely wonders if this is what oblivion will feel like. So warm, so wet. He never wants it to end.
She grabs his arse, and it only adds to the complete and utter euphoria he's currently experiencing. Thankfully, his ill-timed release actually seems to be working in his favor, as he appears to be retaining more stamina than he would have thought possible.
"Imagine that you are the captain of this ship," she whispers in his ear. "A bold and fearless leader who can have any woman he wants," her voice rough and breathy.
"What if I only want you?" he whispers back between grunts, and he can feel her approval as she lifts her hips off the bed, spreading her legs apart and forcing her center even closer. She grabs the hair at the back of his neck and digs her heels into his calves. At that, he swallows hard.
"I'm yours," she tells him. "Even if it's only for tonight, I'm all yours."
Mine, he thinks. All mine.
"Emma…." he moans as the momentum builds. He can hear her breathing heavily now and knows they are both getting closer to the peak. If he's going to fall, he's determined to take her with him, even if he isn't entirely sure how.
What if I...? He thinks as he moves his hand between them. Finding her delicate nub, he strokes it with his thumb as he continues to ebb and flow inside of her, each pull and thrust dragging at his delicate skin in the most sublime way.
"Yes…please...more," she pants. Two strokes, three, four, then suddenly she's shattering before him in a loud exhale, and he can feel her walls clenching around him. "Hook!" she screams, and he continues to push into her, relishing every last sight and sound of her pleasure. He cannot tell whether the world is exploding around him or if he's floating towards the sky.
In that moment, he finally allows himself to fall, pounding her hard, grasping her hip for dear life. "Emma!" he shouts as every cell in his body rejoices. Knowing he's just given her a part of himself, he enjoys the feeling of driving into her deeply. He guesses his face must have contorted into a particularly ridiculous expression when he finally opens his eyes and sees her grinning up at him, and he slows to a stop. Suddenly feeling sheepish again, he looks away from her, but she only grabs his face and kisses him, tongue sweeping over his lips in a most delicious fashion.
"That was…"
"Yes, I know," she says, smiling. "It wasn't the first time and hopefully it won't be our last."
Choosing not to question what she says, he returns her smile.
With great reluctance to separate himself, he rolls off of her onto his back, cradling her close. Emma puts her head on his shoulder and Killian plays with strands of her hair, wondering how on earth he ever got so lucky. Perhaps this is all just a magnificent dream, and he'll soon wake up to his usual life as a simple deckhand. He hopes desperately for that not to be true. Even if tomorrow he faces danger and certain death, he wouldn't trade this moment for anything.
"In my world you are the captain of this ship," she tells him. "And you really could have any woman you want, you know," she says, raking her fingers through his chest hair again, tickling him a bit.
"I still only want you, Swan," he tells her, his expression full of unfeigned devotion. He wants to know everything there is to know about this woman who's just entered his world and turned it completely upside down.
"And I you, Killian," she says, before placing a tender kiss on his cheek.
Perhaps dreams do come true, for surely this is all too good to be real. He doesn't want to fall asleep and risk it vanishing before his eyes, but alas, he finds himself drifting from consciousness, his previous exertions taking their toll. Emma pulls the covers up around them and resumes her spot on his chest, her head tucking neatly against him and her arm draping over his body. He softly hums an old tune he learned growing up, as he strokes up and down her arm in a soothing pattern. Hook, he thinks to himself. She must have been talking about me, though I've never heard that name before.
Soon, he drifts off into the most peaceful, most wonderful sleep he's ever known.
Emma watches him sleep, tracing the contours of his face gently, and pushing the hair out of his eyes. She isn't sure why she's surprised by him, but she is. Apparently, he is a natural when it comes to the bedroom, because that was still the best sex of her life, novice or no. It was just as hot as the first time they made love, and in some ways made even sweeter by his absolute awe and wonder at every new touch and sensation. Life hasn't always been kind, but today she got exactly what she wanted and she feels supremely satisfied.
Tomorrow they may have hell to pay, and they may be separated or even killed. But for tonight, she is right where she wants to be. So she wraps her arms around him tightly and lets the ocean waves rock her to sleep.