So when one of your naughty cupcakes asks for a smutty outtake from the fluff you did, a smutty outtake she gets. This is for you optomisticgirl I hope it's to your liking darling. Thanks to jscoutfinch for helping whip it into shape.
He's having the most delightful dream, the cool sea spray on his face contrasting with the warm sun, the natural sway of the Jolly pulling his hips to and fro as he minds the helm. His Swan is there of course, she's always there, the purpose of her presence is what changes. At times she's simply there to enjoy his company while other times, most times, she's there as his personal erotic muse: a golden goddess laid out before him on the deck in the warm sunshine, a wanton siren against the helm or mast, a gentle lover in the captain's quarters.
Something was pulling him from his slumber, the edges of his dream dissipate and the Jolly is transformed into Swan's bedroom. The feeling of warm, wet and soft encased around him causing his eyes to shoot downward to the golden curls draped over his thighs like a silken curtain.
A sudden wave of panic comes over him. This isn't right, her family is right below us. Butthat thought quickly vanishes because Gods does she feel good around him. Reaching out to brush a curl out of her face for a better view, he gets more than he had bargained for. The sight of her head bobbing, mixed with the vibrations of some little tune she's humming, has him blinking in rapid succession and wondering how long he'll last like this. Catching a curl between his thumb and index finger he gains her attention.
"Swan?" A breathy whisper gets stuck in his throat as she slides up his length slowly with hollowed cheeks.
Letting him go with a wet pop and giving him a sly smile (Bloody minx) before dipping back down to flick her tongue out and run the flat of it across the tip of him. Her green eyes showing her complete disregard to the fact that they are not alone when the moonlight catches them. She presses her index finger to her pursed pink lips in a fashion that tells him to be quiet. He can no longer see the haze that comes from too much drink in those jade colored eyes. Her gaze raking over him brings a smile to his face, and that's when he takes in his state of dress - or lack thereof, in this case. His vest and shirt are all the way open, exposing the defined muscles of his torso covered with a glorious dusting of hair. What really has him impressed is that she had somehow managed to work his jeans down over his hips without waking him. Feeling her nudge his hips, he gets the hint to lift up so she can pull his jeans and boxer briefs all the way down his toned legs.
He sits up to shuck off his vest and shirt, which gives him the opportune moment to fully appreciate her attire. He would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly disappointed that he was not the one to peel her out of her skin-tight jeans and skimpy tank top. She's left in nothing but those scraps of red lace she calls undergarments, and the sight of her pale skin in the moonlight, wrapped in delicious red, has his cock twitching against his stomach.
She's climbing off the bed and when he reaches for her she swats his hand away. Opening the nightstand drawer she pulls out a condom and rips the package with her teeth. Watching her roll it down the length of his arousal made him ache to be inside of her, so he reached out again, his grasp finding only air as she backed away. He strikes one eyebrow upward to issue her a silent challenge: stop teasing and get over here.
Emma nods at him to move to the center of the bed and he obliges, all while keeping his steel blue gaze locked on her. She reaches back to unclasp her bra, letting it slide down her arms before dropping it to the floor. He just barely makes out the pink flush that spreads across her skin, biting his bottom lip as her hands toy with the waistband of her panties. Gliding the fabric over her hips, she lets the lace fall and steps out of them to make her way back to him.
Climbing back onto the bed she swings a leg over him to straddle his hips, but doesn't drop down to touch him just yet. He watches intently as she palms her creamy breasts, then rolls each pert nipple between her thumb and index finger. He has to bite hard on his lip to keep the moan from escaping his throat - her parents and brother are asleep downstairs and he's not about to be chased out from this show. He starts to slip his hand up her leg and manages to make it to her thigh before she slaps him away. The look on her face tells him to be patient, so he puts his hand down to draw haphazard circles on her calf.
His jaw ticking in a rapid pace as he watches this woman above him slide a hand to her glistening sex, throwing her head back as she runs two fingers through her slick folds. She looks down at him she seems to pick up on the fact that he's painfully hard now. Lining herself up with his arousal, she places her hands on his chest to steady herself as she sinks down on him. They both let out a breath when she's fully seated, pausing to listen to the stillness of the loft. Green eyes locked on blue, Emma starts to move above him - never breaking her gaze as she swirls a languid pace with her hips. Their eyes telling each other everything they dare not say out loud for fear of waking the whole apartment. He looks down for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of himself disappearing into her where they are joined.
Keeping rhythm with her hips careful not to let him slip out, she leans down to lay flush on Killian's chest, carding her fingers through his hair while she places soft kisses along his jawline, his cheekbones, the tip of his nose, before pressing softly against his lips. He runs his hand down her back to rest it on the swell of her ass, returning the favor from earlier in the night and giving it a firm squeeze. She gasps and nips at his lip before abandoning his mouth to whisper lowly in his ear.
"That's not fair."
He uses that moment of surprise to flip them over so that she is now on her back. He wiggles those fantastic eyebrows down at her.
"Pirate."
Dropping kisses to her collarbone as his hips snap against her, he finds his way to those beautiful breasts and draws in a nipple to worry between his teeth. With her eyes screwed shut Emma makes a groan in the back of her throat that's just a little too loud for his liking. Releasing her with wet sound, he slows the rhythm of his hips. The drag of his cock so slow against her walls was almost his undoing.
"You're the one who started this game love. Be a good girl and stay quiet."
She sticks her tongue out at him in annoyance (which most would find juvenile, but to him it's rather adorable). She gets his trademark nose crinkle in return.
Picking up the pace again, he can feel the familiar pull of his impending release start low in his groin and shoot up his spine - but he won't take his pleasure before she's had hers. Reaching down between their bodies he starts to flourish a well-rehearsed dance of his fingers across the bundle of nerves above where they're joined. Fusing his lips to hers so that she can't make all of the delicious sounds he knows she makes is a cross he's willing to bear. The way her walls begin to flutter around him makes his hips falter for a moment, but he keeps his pace to bring her to the edge. She throws her head back into the pillow, a silent scream on her face as her walls clamping down on him triggers his own release. A couple of lazy thrusts brings them down from their mutual high. Mindful to keep the brunt of his weight off of her, he places a kiss to her collarbone and rolls off to her side.
Once he catches his breath he gets up to dispose of the condom and quietly clean himself up. He brings back a washcloth for her to use and fetches a pair of clean panties from her drawer. As she slides on her panites and he pulls on his jeans they share a smile of triumph that they were able to keep as quiet as they did. Bending down to pick up his shirt he hears her whimper of disapproval and simply hands the shirt to her his head hangs in mock defeat. She is pressed up against his side the second he is back under the covers, her head on his shoulder while her fingers draw lazy random patterns over his heart. Both of their stomachs growl at the same time and they share a stifled laugh.
Dropping a kiss to the crown of her head he whispers into her hair,"I hope there are pancakes in the morning."
Emma humming her agreement and snuggling deeper into his side.
The both drift off shortly after, waking when they hear noises coming from the kitchen below - the smell of coffee and pancakes heavy in the air.