It had been a long day. Her first Valentine's Day that had actually meant something.

"Thank you for today," Emma said softly as she stood before the bathroom mirror, her long, delicate fingers smoothing the vanilla-scented lotion into her hands. "Nobody has ever taken me ice skating before."

Will smiled widely at their reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth. "Or bought me my own skates," she added.

Emma stepped aside and let Will rinse. She placed the lotion on the shelf, searching for the cocoa body butter that instigated the next step of her nightly moisturising routine.

"You're a very good skater," he mumbled as he reached over Emma's bare shoulder to place his toothbrush in its holder. "You move so well on the ice."

Emma blushed and looked down to her wrists, the texture of the moisturizer so comforting. She felt Will's eyes on her, watching and adoring. She stole a quick glance at the mirror, and their gazes locked briefly before she looked down again.

She could feel the reflection of his gentle smile bounce from the mirror and cover her skin hotly. This was something she was beginning to get used to- somebody else being around all of the time. With Carl it had bothered her, his lingering gazes that made her feel pressured and not quite good enough. But with Will, Emma just felt...warm. And he watched her so often.

The heat of his chest pressed into her back, warmth seeping through her flimsy slip and his dark t-shirt. She pressed her belly against the skin, anticipating that Will would reach over her for mouthwash, or floss, or his own moisturizer. But Will only wedged her between his front and the sink. The gentle pressure...it caused Emma to look up at their reflection.

His fingertips called goose bumps to the surface of her skin as he gently brushed her hair out of his way, and she watched.

One kiss on the hot skin of her bare neck. She tilted her head slightly, and smiled at their reflection. But Will was too caught up in adoring his fiancée. His breath lingered over her skin, leaving a hot dampness in its wake. His eyes...god, his eyes...

Oh, no. It was happening again.

Emma was conflicted. His eyelids had slipped closed, and he seemed to be in a state of satisfaction. This was beginning to occur too often. His stare would catch fire and her heart would pound. She'd break out in a sweat, and she couldn't have that. She'd just showered. However, she couldn't just stand and smile dumbly at herself, lost in a land of saccharine romance, whilst Will was captured by lust and...adult desires. They had to find a balance, and it was difficult. She was too innocent, he knew too much. Yes, it was happening so often lately, where they would find themselves at two completely different ends of the scale. Emma had no idea what to do about it. She was certain of one thing, though. Will deserved more, and each day he expressed his love for her again and again, made Emma feel like she not only could go through with it, but that she wanted to.

A lingering kiss on her hair line. She shivered and ducked her chin to her chest. She felt hot. Embarrassed. Vulnerable. And so terribly attractive.

Another kiss below her jaw.

"Will," she breathed, the single syllable falling from her lips in a rush. She touched her fingertips to the basin for balance.

The pressure of his warm palms on her hips was comforting, and a sensation she was becoming accustomed to. He didn't pull her behind against him, didn't ask for more. But as he planted gentle kisses across her neck, and down over her shoulders, his thumbs ran over the swell of her hips. His fingertips rested on her protruding hipbone, never daring to touch her more intimately. Such a slight, comforting gesture. It confessed every desire for Emma that Will had suppressed.

She turned in his arms, and when he looked up to catch her gaze, she kissed him, hard. Warm flesh against soft heat, Emma parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slide against hers. He was eager, she was determined. His hands at her hips smoothed over the satin of her slip, and as his hands rested at the back of her thighs, Emma breathed a troubled whimper. She could feel his fingertips hinting at the bare skin of her thigh. It was new, and slowly, his hands were dragging the material higher.

But it was okay. He lifted her against him and placed her gently on the edge of the basin, and his hands left her thighs to find her waist. He wasn't feeling her up, or asking for more. Even though he wanted to. And god she knew he wanted to. He only stepped closer between her thighs, where her legs had come to wrap loosely around his waist. Oh, Will. He only wanted to be closer to her. Cuddling was wonderful. But this, being held so provocatively...this was a different kind of closeness.

His teeth drew over her bottom lip, clinging to her as he broke their kiss. It was heated and raw, a kind of adoration they had yet to really meet. He kissed her again. And she kissed him again. And then they couldn't remember how to stop. Six months ago, this never would have happened.

His fingers drew circles over her slip as her stood before her, holding her tightly so she didn't fall backwards. The intensity of their kisses grew, and gradually, Will's heart began to pound erratically. His hold on her slackened, and Emma wobbled on the edge. Her arms locked tightly around his neck, drawing him closer to her as she tried to find her balance. He grasped her behind in his hands to stop her from falling, and as they breathed against one another, their lips parted and tongues dancing, Will felt the heat rise to his neck. But his hands, daring and protective, stayed where they were. His palms began to tingle, and suddenly, sensation returned. He could the swell of Emma's ass in his hands, and for the first time, she wasn't squirming in shyness.

He could feel her tiny hands slide down from his shoulders, and over his chest. She rested them upon his breastbone over his v-neck t-shirt, and his mind was flooded with memory. For months, as he rested in bed at night, thinking of Emma and trying not to imagine just how she was loving her husband in a bed across town, all he had was the memory of her fingernails pressed into his chest. Creature of the night! Her cheek pressed against his chest as she caught her breath. Her fingers clawing at him had been the subject of many erotic fantasies. Yes, his chest was extra sensitive. Clothed or not.

As he held her body against his, her thighs at either side of his hips, and their kisses long and fuelled, Will kneaded Emma's flesh in his hands. Soft, warm. God, he just wanted to bury himself in her, to become a part of her so completely. To touch her. To taste her. To make love to his fiancée. He could feel her chest heaving as he broke their kiss and buried his face in the crook of her neck. The scent of her shampoo and conditioner in her slightly dampened hair was dizzying. Almost as dizzying as earlier that day.

They had been at the outdoor ring, resting still against the barrier by the far corner, their skates tied tightly.

"I can't wait to marry you," he whispered, his back pressed against the waist high wall. Will tightened his hold on Emma, pulling her back firmer against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She folded her arms across his, and rested her head back to rest in the juncture of this shoulder and neck. "I can't wait until you're my wife."The red strands of her hair tickled his jaw, and her fluffy beret warmed the shell of his ear. "I can't wait to teach our child to ice skate."

Her hand travelled up to rake into his curls. He bent his head lower into her touch, and kissed her temple. With her other hand, she lowered his fingers to her abdomen, her thick coat concealing the warmth of her skin from him. But the pressure felt wonderful. She held his hand on her belly. "Soon, Will."

His body stiffened in shock at her words. He watched the little boys and girls around them, some trembling with fear by the low walls, and others whizzing across the ice with confidence.

"I'm so in love with you that sometimes I just...I just feel like I can't control myself..." he gushed.

She had been shy, but by the flush of her cheek beneath his lips, he knew she had been aroused.

They had then made out in the car when the sun set and darkness seeped in. His fingers had felt the swell of her chest, beneath her coat and over her sweater. They had stopped the heavy petting, adamant about sticking to their prior agreement to wait until their wedding night for...more. Emma had suggested the idea, and Will had agreed to show his devotion to her through the promise. But it was simple. She was afraid of the heat that coursed through her veins when his fingers travelled too high or too low, and that alone had been the instigator of her new found principle to wait until marriage. They both knew that, but neither of them acknowledged Emma's uncertainty. They were waiting. And that's all that was discussed when he reluctantly withdrew his hands from her cotton clad chest that Valentine's Day afternoon.

He grasped her bare thighs softly, not venturing further than just above her knee. He pressed forward, and his boxers brushed against her panties. He pulled back slightly, knowing that his length was beginning to swell. He hadn't realised that her slip had ridden up, and that she was so...close. The skimpy gown was short, too short. So much skin. So much of Emma that he rarely got to see or feel. She must have known that she was taking things a step further that night.

It was winter. A slip was impractical, especially one as flimsy and short as the one she was wearing. For the last three nights, Emma had gone to bed in longer, warmer nightgowns, and still, she hadn't stopped complaining about the cold, that the thermostat needed to be turned up higher. The cream satin slip was new, too. Will had never seen it before, even in her dresser where he often found himself spying across the room at as she planned her outfits. He'd never seen this in her underwear drawer. Rows and rows of colourful underwear he had never touched. Silky bras. Lace panties. Yes, she was wearing the slip because it was Valentine's Day, and they both knew the tension between them was heating up.

He could feel her engagement ring brush against the skin of his neck as she drew her hands over his shoulders to clasp together at the nape of his neck. The cool metal was a reminder. Soon you'll be married. You'll start a family. She wants a baby. She wants to have a baby with you. You're going to get Emma Pillsbury pregnant.

At that thought, Will was hard beyond control.

Will pulled back slightly, and deepened the kiss to distract her from his movement. But Emma had already begun to awaken. She was missing the pressure of Will between her legs.

But he didn't want to scare her. God, it was all happening so quickly. He hadn't realised how aroused he had become until his body began to really pulse.

She broke the kiss and ducked her head, her face flushing crimson at the thought of being so adventurous. She pressed her forehead against his collarbone, and closed her eyes. Will looked to the ceiling, trying to calm himself. This day was a culmination of the hottest make-out sessions they had ever had.

When she opened her eyes and gazed down, she saw his boxers, how they were tented between her legs, but not touching her. Her lips parted in shock, and she blinked twice.

The way her frame froze in his arms, he guessed she must have seen it. Like she had all those other times, when she'd felt it and pulled away shyly.

"I don't do things like this," she sighed. "But you make me want to."

He ran his hands over her back as he moved even closer. He ran his hand from her lower back, up her spine. What he'd give to be able to kiss her naked back with his lips. This. This is what he'd give. He was already doing everything he could. He was waiting for her. But, god. She wasn't wearing a bra. Just the slip and panties. The heat of her skin sent shivers through his arms, and he could feel the tension of her heartbeat hammering through her back. She was so beautiful.

Emma's hands glided across his sides, and let them rest at his waist. She pulled him closer, his fingers curling up into her curly hair.

She felt the tip of his erection brush against her thigh. What would it feel like if it touched her between her legs? What would that feel like if they were naked? Would it be as passionate and loving and special as this? Or would it be dirty, and driven with intent?

Maybe it would be so much more.

Emma sighed.

"Do you fantasise about me, Will?"

All of the images flashed before his eyes. French maid outfits, nurse outfits, the hot school teacher fantasy he hadn't been able to shake since high school. Things sweet Emma would never, ever do. And then there were the other desires, images of how it could be with her that had been instigated by his secret stash of porn videos he had bought when she was married to another man.

Oh god. "Yes." Shallow breathing. Strong, ragged breaths as they held each other close.

His lips travelled over her sternum.

He felt her chest hammer softly as she swallowed. "So you don't think it's wrong to fantasise about, you know, when we aren't married?"

He tightened his hold on her, and sensing he was taking his kisses to far, rested his lips on the curve of her throat. "No, baby."

She gasped as his reply reverberated in a hum upon her throat, tickling her so intensely.

"Will, I...I have to confess something," she sighed breathily. "Sometimes I...I read erotica after we kiss, when you're asleep."

Oh god.

Her fingernails trailed up and down his spine so slowly. "I just feel so worked up sometimes, and I don't know what to do about it..."

Oh god.

"Emma, please, I..."

She self-consciously shifted on the counter to find better balance, and his tented boxers unintentionally pressed further between her legs. Too far. "What do you do about it, Will?"

It was all too much. The feel of her back beneath his hands. Holding her so closely when she was barely dressed. What she was saying. Her gasps and sighs. His pulsating length.

It was too, too much. They'd gone too far. He told himself to pull away from her and turn around, even though it would have been a ruined orgasm. He'd be frustrated, but maybe Emma wouldn't be so shaken. Maybe if he had pulled away, she wouldn't have realised.

But he pushed forward, and the tip of his length pressed against her panties. The scalding heat of her thighs warmed too closely to his boxers. It happened in seconds, but the build up had taken years.

Her fingernails pressed into his skin slightly, shocked that his length had actually pressed into her. He throbbed in his boxers, spasms shooting through his arousal as his thighs cramped. Will groaned, and his length twitched madly as he came in his boxers.

His chest heaved, and his hands trembled upon her lower back. There was wetness, and he wondered if she realised the enormity of what had just occurred.

He bravely pulled away.

Her eyes were wide, her lips parted. "What just happened?" she shrieked softly.

"I...umm..." he looked down, a blush rising on his cheeks.

She waited for his response, but he didn't know what to say. He was still basking in the bliss of his relief.

"Oh my god." She looked down at his dampened boxers as he pulled away. "I'm so sorry."Her face was flushed, her chest covered in an equally pink blush. "I had no idea."

"Yeah," he scoffed playfully, "I know that."

"But we were only kissing..."she whispered. "Do you have a problem with that kind of thing?"

"What? No." She eyed him sympathetically. "No!" He shook his head. "That hasn't happened to me since I was seventeen."

Emma slid off the edge of the basin, and tried to find her balance on her feet. Her head was spinning. She'd really had no idea.

"It's just been a really long time," Will explained. "And I've wanted you for so much longer."

His eyes bore hungrily into hers, and Emma's chest heaved in unfulfilled desire. It was too much. She knew she wanted it. She knew that the reason why she had stopped make out sessions before with the excuse that she was tired was because she had been the one who had become too sensitive. Emma had been the one who had reached a peak, and been too overwhelmed by the sensations to allow herself the pleasure she had only ever read about. And even then, when her body had tingled with a heat she'd never known, they hadn't gone much further than kissing. It was getting harder and harder to control themselves. Everything was suddenly too much.

"Our wedding is in four months, Will," Emma whispered calmly as her breathing slowed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. "We've waited this long." His forehead rested in the smooth curve of her shoulder and neck. "We shouldn't start our marriage breaking promises."

She was right. But what a difficult promise it would be to keep.


AN: So I don't actually think that Wemma are going to wait until their wedding night to give in, because we all know RIB have set up this virginity arc to dedicate a separate storyline to it, and I think it will come way before the wedding episode. However, for the sake of this one shot, Will needed to be kind of desperate. This was also a filled prompt. Hope you enjoyed and as always, thanks for reading! Letters to a Lost Lover will be updated soon, so thanks for the kind feedback on that, too.