WARNING: Incest - please DO NOT read this if it offends you in any way!
So! this is sort of an sequel to an amazing story by Not Write This, called Wants are the Locks. Read that first to fully understand everything.
Enjoy!
WHITE KNIGHT
As she follows Mary Margaret through the front door Emma can't help but smile. She quite likes this apartment, it's nice, warm and welcoming - just like the person who lives there.
Home. Family. Then she remembers what Henry told her.
No! Oh for God's sake, these are just stories.
She shakes her head and realizes that the brunette went to the kitchen while she was occupied with her thoughts. She's doing something with mugs and when Emma steps into the kitchen as well, she hands one of them to her with a small but bright smile on her face. "Here, have some hot choco with cinnamon. You've earned it."
"You bet I have," Emma laughs and accepts the offer, but the disturbing thoughts still don't leave her alone. She needs distraction. With one sip from the choco, her eyes are locked deep with the brunette's. Then she puts the mug down slowly, the smell of cinnamon making her feel good about what she is about to do.
Emma closes the few steps in between them, bringing them so close that their faces are only inches apart. Still looking at Mary Margaret's eyes she takes her mug as well and puts it next to her own on the table.
"I'd say you still aren't tired then, huh?" Mary breaths, their lips brushing as she speaks. "Come," she takes Emma's hands in hers and guides her to the other side of the kitchen without taking her eyes off the blonde. Emma didn't notice it the last time she was there that the brunette's bedroom was only separated with a simple curtain. She wouldn't look away from Mary's gaze if the room was on fire, but she can tell that the room's just like the rest of the apartment.
Mary Margaret pulls her till they reach the edge of the bed. Then, she lets go of her hands and drops herself on it, still watching the blonde, desire burning in her eyes. If Emma didn't know better she would've said that this woman wasn't pleasured in ages. But she knows better - she pleasured her not so long ago. And watching her on the bed she can't help but feel horny again. Oh this woman drives me crazy...
Emma bends down on top of Mary and gives her a gently placed kiss. She can feel the brunette's hands travel on her back as their kiss turns more serious. Their tongues meet and she slips her hands under Mary's dress. This is the second time this evening that the clothing is in the way, but Emma decides it will be the last one. The dress hits the floor a few seconds later, leaving the brunette in her bra and underwear on the bed. Emma wastes no time and lifts her shirt up and off in a quick movement. As she leans to satisfy her burning desire to kiss Mary Margaret again, she clumsily unclasp the brunette's bra. She grabs it and throws it behind her back, earning a delighted smile from Mary Margaret.
She feels dizzy as they continue making out widely; Emma only hears the sound of her zipper, she swallows hard and grabs the nude breasts before letting out a quiet mewl. A coaxed long moan escapes Mary Margaret's lips as well and with the blonde's help the jeans follow the bra on the floor. Emma lets go of the brunette's nipple slowly and her hand makes its way down to the brunette's thights.
But before she could reach it, Mary Margaret crawls slowly further on the bed leaving her at the edge. "It's been so long since I had anyone in my bed." The brunette's seductive voice almost tortures Emma. "I want to make it... special." Emma can't control herself as she shudders violently. Wetness floods her panties and she watches Mary pushing down her own. The movement is so graceful and slow that Emma feels time stopping - the whole world stops for a second.
And when Mary Margaret lets go of the piece of clothing and it drops on the floor, that's when Emma looses it. She physically cannot wait any longer; she unclasp her own bra and throws it away, not bothering with anything else. She climbs on the bed and kisses the brunette furiously.
Her fingers finally find the place where the wetness glistens on her swollen folds. She feels a rubbing pressure over her clit and she knows Mary Margaret wants the same thing she does. Emma gives massaging strokes along the length of her pussy, teasing her for a few moments. Then, she feels as the brunette pushes one finger, followed by the second inside.
"Ahhhhhh!" Emma's groan is probably louder than she would want it to be, but she cannot care less.
It's a good thing her reflexes work, otherwise she would've stop everything with that loud moan that left her mouth. Just let Mary pleasure her. She wants it so bad, it almost hurts. But, Emma Swan knows what the other one requires and she manages to push two fingers inside the tight and soaking wet pussy before losing control over her actions. Mary Margaret's fingers pump fast, clumsily, she probably thinks, but Emma can tell that they move exactly the right angle and it makes Emma see stars. She can't really see Mary Margaret, but she knows she's slamming her fingers hand enough because her head falls back in pleasure.
Mary presses her thumb firmly against her clit, but shudders violently when Emma suddenly slides a third finger into her with a rough pump. "Fuck!" Emma hears, but just barely. Her heavy breaths and not so quiet moans escape her lips without control. Emma can feel that the brunette is close, so she rides her fingers faster, timing herself. She hears the sloppy sounds of the brunette's slick pussy and thrusting deeper and harder she's ever pushed, she feels the wave of the cathartic orgasm hit them at the same time. It lasts longer than Emma would've expected; they stay in that position, fingers buried deep and chest heaving from the exertion. Their sweaty bodies coalesce and they hug each other with one arm.
Emma doesn't get why she loves so much cuddling with Mary Margaret. It has to do something with pressing her own body as close to her as possible. As they slowly stop hyperventilating, Emma looks up and sees the most beautiful thing in the world. Mary Margaret's pleasured, happy face is turned to the ceiling, her eyes closed and a heartbreakingly warm smile widens on her face. Emma pulls out her hand of Mary's tights and wraps it around her. The brunette follows her example, then opens her eyes and turns so she can kiss Emma - and it's the sweetest kiss Emma's ever gotten. Her hands travel through the brunette's hair and she wishes this moment would last forever.
"Thank you," she hears Mary Margaret when they lips come apart. Her voice is so soul-warming, Emma can't help but hold her even closer. They stay like this for what feels like forever for Emma.
Then she sighs and lets go of the brunette, rolling next to her so she can face her fully. "Y'know... I'm still not staying for breakfast."
She sees as the brunette's slightly serious face lightens up and she punches her arm playfully. "But you're not going anywhere until you clean up this mess. Look at my room! It's like a bomb exploded in here..!"
"It did..." Emma said, turning serious. "I have no idea how you do this. I've never, ever had sex like this before. You were amazing." She says it before she can stop herself. Maybe she shouldn't have said that. She's disappointed in so many people before, opening up to someone was never an easy thing for her. But she wanted to trust Mary Margaret. She feels lost without her, even if she can't admit that even to herself.
"Well, the answer is easy." Her eyes glow with love and it melts Emma's heart. "It's because we didn't have sex. We made love."
And at this moment, the always sassy, walls-up Emma Swan can't argue. They indeed made love. And it wasn't the last time, she is sure about it.
