A/N: This one was un-betad so please excuse any grammar, spelling or OOC mistakes! This was done for this Saturday prompt: Emma seduces Hook, so I thought well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to write a sequel of sorts to the first part. I hope you all like it, I don't think it's my best but I tried haha.
The last time he had seen Emma was several days – no, almost a week – ago when he had left the sheriff station. His head throbbed in pain that morning, he had felt cross and bleak and Emma's words still echoed in his ears.
'Nothing' she had said to him rigidly, after their persistent questioning.
A part of Killian desperately wanted to believe that Emma was simply too occupied with her sheriff duties to see him. He had wanted to go to her, to ask her again if she was certain, why she was avoiding him – his gut told him otherwise. When he did try, his feet stopped in their tracks and his mind froze, and the lump in his throat grew. How much longer they could avoid one another, Killian didn't know. The fact that they were living under the same roof and they still could not find it within themselves to approach one another troubled him.
By the time her keys jingled on the other side of the door, he was already in his bed. When Killian awoke in the morning, her shoes were gone. Her efforts were clear – they left him with a sickness in the pit of his stomach. Her absence only made him longing for more and that angered Killian most. They had thought it might have been a good idea to keep him there. Snow and this 'Charming' lad, who were her parents – Killian found it a little strange –, had given him their space until they could find a plan regarding him and Gold. He growled at the memory of their discussion.
As drunk as he was that night, every movement, every word, every sound… he had meant it all. He wondered if it was the same for Emma – the way she'd moved her hips against his, the way his name fell off her lips… why hadn't she wanted to discuss it in the morning?
Killian rested his head on his pillow, shutting his eyes and inhaling a deep sigh. The apartment smelled like her – the sweet aroma of coffee and cinnamon. He wasn't particularly fond of the flavour of the beverage, but when the scent wafted through his nostrils, he recalled burying his nose in her hair. It held a certain familiarity with him: distant, but natural in a not-so-ordinary way. He grinned to himself and stared out the window, his eyelids growing heavy.
Outside, the orange glow of the sun was disappearing under a blanket of darkness. The moon was peeking out, tucking away the sun with the stars. Killian shut his eyes and turned over onto his stomach, extending his arms for a stretch. He could feel himself drifting. He allowed his muscles to relax, and soon enough, he was elsewhere: with her in the sheriff's station, the empty bottles of rum and whiskey teetering off the desk and breaking on the floor, their hips rocking against one another's in a drunken frenzy. Her hair was tousled and the papers were in disarray at the foot of her desk. Killian's mouth devoured her neck and his name escaped her lips in whispers that quickly grew to screams.
Just like every other night.
Her curves taunted him when he closed his eyes.
SLAM!
He wasn't sure how long it had been since he had fallen asleep, but the sound of the door banging shut startled him awake. Killian caught his breath and sat up, wiping the dribbles of sweat that had formed on his brow. He cocked an eyebrow at the light that clicked on at the entrance, spotting Emma's silhouette through the white curtains surrounding the room. Usually she was much quieter when she arrived home so as not to wake him, thus successfully dodging any awkward conversations that may have sparked between them.
Emma didn't hurry in getting upstairs to her room. Instead, he saw her brushing her fingers through her long blond curls. When she walked, her shoes clacked on the floor; she was wearing heels for a reason unbeknownst to him. Her keys hit the counter with another loud slam and his breath hitched when she turned in his direction.
"Hook?"
Emma's voice broke slightly as she called out to him, peeking through the gaps in the curtains.
It took what felt like eons for Killian to get to his feet. He tilted to get a better look at her – her shape was growing clearer and footsteps clicked louder against the hardwood. She stopped just short of the hangings separating them, and waited for his response.
"You've finally come to terms with how much you've missed me, lass?" He chuckled at her, but on the inside it was different. Inside, it hurt. Where had she been these past few days, and now she was seeking him out?
The drapes parted and she stepped through, a devilish smile etched on her blood-red lips. She looked… different tonight – her long, curly locks hung over her covered shoulders distinctively, she wore an unusual amount of makeup, and her eyes burned with a fire that Killian recognized.
He looked her up and down, and then up again. Curious article she was wearing – a long trench coat. Upon closer inspection, his trench coat. He knew it by the silver buttons lining the collar, and it was done up tightly, as if to hide something, or nothing – Killian preferred the latter. "I told you you'd make a hell of a pirate," he teased with a low voice. He didn't mind the sight, but would have favoured a situation without the leather.
Well, depends on the leather, he supposed.
Killian grinned at his internal dialogue.
"I never argued that fact," Emma scolded. "I think this look suits me." Her voice was enticing, almost seductive in a way, but Killian didn't mind. As confused as he was, he could not deny that he welcomed it. She admired herself in the coat – it was a little oversized for her, but all Killian could think about was what was underneath, if there even was anything.
What are you trying to accomplish, lass?
He took his first few steps toward her, but she only backed away out of the room and into the living room. Killian chased her, his feet moving faster, but Emma only kept sliding away until she had her back to the door. The grin on her face grew slyer and her finger beckoned him, an invitation for him to close in on her.
Killian slammed her against the door, and she cried out, her lips opening ever so slightly to let out a gasp, sending a wave of heat through his veins. His heartbeat was already quickening and he had wanted to push her hair away from her shoulders and consume her. "What are you trying to do?" he hissed through his teeth. The tip of his hook dug into the wooden door on the other side of Emma and she glanced up at it before looking back at him.
"Whatever are you talking about, captain?" Emma asked, feigning innocence. She unclasped the top button of the jacket, and Killian held his breath, staring down at the newly revealed skin.
He moaned at her. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." Killian moved away and took a moment to take her in – the jacket, the shoes, the lipstick, her hair. What was she expecting?
He must not have been paying enough attention because when he raised his arm to wrap it around her again, he noticed his hook was missing. Killian stared at her, dumbfounded as she waved it in front of him. "You little minx…"
The cold metal scraped against his chest as she pulled him towards her, goose bumps rising on his skin, and then he felt his back slam against the door, the knob digging into his back. Her fingers gripped the wrist of his good arm, and she held it tightly against the door. His hook nearly nicked his skin as she latched it onto his shirt, holding it to the wood beside his head.
They gave each other a breathless laugh and Emma pressed herself against him.
Leather pants are so constricting… He tried to free his arm – he wanted to touch her, to feel the burning of her skin beneath his fingertips, to brush his fingers through her hair – but she had him locked in place, unable to move. He grunted and made another attempt that only made her dig the hook in deeper.
"Oh, how the tables have turned, my dear captain." Emma undid the rest of the buttons of the coat and allowed it into a pile on the floor.
Killian was far too transfixed to move. She revealed a low cut, form-fitting red dress that hugged her every curve. As beautiful as she looked, he wanted nothing more than to tear it off of her with his hook. The heels only made it worse… or better – Killian couldn't tell. The burning knot in his abdomen raged, begging to be released. Emma lingered close to him, tracing her fingers down over his lips, and stopping at his neck. With her other hand, she tore the hook from the door and traced it along his clenched jaw.
"It bites, doesn't it?" she inquired coyly. "The cold metal against your skin." Her mouth fell open slightly and she grinned when a groan erupted from the back of Killian's throat.
"That's my job, love." Killian grabbed for it but she pulled it away from him and slid it behind her back, leaning in, with her chest against his. "What has gotten into you?" It was a rhetorical question more than him being genuinely curious – he didn't mind it.
"Are you sure you don't remember anything?" Emma's lips grazed over his, the warmth of her yearning whispers made him tremble under her spell. He bit back his objection to the hook at his waistline now, kissing his skin. She latched it onto his pants and slammed his hips into hers, eliciting another growl from him.
Killian tried to swallow past the lump forming in his throat. "Anything what?" was all he could manage. His mouth was dry.
"Don't make me ask again, captain."
"Call me that again and you won't be whispering much longer, love." He smirked against her mouth, and she snickered. Killian let her wrap her leg around his waist, drawing him in closer. When she didn't flinch at his hand on her hips, he moved it to the small of her back, his fingers nestling into that dip in her back that Killian loved so much.
"That didn't answer my question." Her hands were clutching his collar now and she was pulling him forward, his steps matching hers as she roamed to the couch, stringing Killian along. She lifted her leg and pushed him down onto the seat and Emma lowered herself to her knees between his legs. "Do I have to try again?"
Emma's fingers were toying with the buttons of his shirt now – button by button, air found his skin and Killian shivered. His entire world quaked when her hands found his stomach, running up and tightening around the coarse hairs on his chest.
"Emma…" he uttered under his breath. He remembered how her name fell from his lips that night, and how it sounded when she said his name – when she called him Killian. He wanted to reach for her, pull her over him and kiss her with every bit of his being, but there was something stopping him. She hadn't kissed him yet, and he had wanted to be confident that it was what she craved, too. There was something about her grin that clouded his bliss with doubt.
"How far do you need me to go, captain?"
There it is again.
"Will you please enlighten me as to what the bloody hell is going on?" All Killian wanted was an answer. He couldn't help but lick his lips as one of the straps of Emma's dress fell off of her shoulder, draping itself around her arm.
Emma pouted at him. "You've been acting strange for the past few days," she began. Her legs slid over him and soon, her face was above his and her hair cloaked the sides of their faces, tickling Killian's neck.
"I'm the one acting strange?" A sudden anger burst inside his chest, and he found himself raising his voice at her, but she didn't shy away. She held her ground, and now her heel was rubbing against his leg. "You've been the one avoiding me. Coming home late, and leaving early. I've wanted to discuss it since as long as it's been, and – bloody hell woman, what are you doing?" His belt was undone now and she'd torn it out of his pant loops and tossed it to the floor. He rolled his head back as a flush of heat pulsed through him, and he'd lost control. He sat up and placed her gently onto his lap, but that was the end of it. His hand found its way to her thigh and rested there – she was warm and he was growing weary of her game.
"If it's not me you want, then what is it?" he snarled in an attempt to regain any last flicker of restraint he had over his own body. "If it's me you want, you only need say the words, Emma." It had been over three hundred years since he'd been with a woman like that. Three hundred years since he'd felt the warmth of a woman's skin over his… it was painful to sit here and wonder if she'd truly wanted it, too.
"So you do remember…" Emma asked, playfully wringing her fingers in his hair.
Killian's breath caught in his throat – Emma's dress slowly crawled up as she moved her hips against him now, and he grew desperate for any friction. She came down gave his bottom lip a nibble, but she pulled away too quickly for him to crash his lips against hers. Killian was hungry, but couldn't taste. "Of course I do, and clearly, so do you." He paused and let their breaths linger between them for a moment. "Else you wouldn't be here. So can we both agree that we lied and get this over with?"
"That's all I wanted to hear, captain." Emma pushed herself away from him, waggling his hook in his face. She got to her feet slowly and with a toss of her hair, she was making her way toward the stairs to her room, hips swaying.
Her entire demeanor did a turnaround. She looked at him through her cold, blue eyes, brows furrowed and her red lips turned down into a grimace. "I told you I was good at knowing when someone is lying to me," she drawled. "Good night, Hook." Her voice was low and cold now, brimming with irritation and the like.
Killian was left speechless. He stood up – maybe a little too quickly – and meant to go after her, but his feet didn't take him to her. Instead, he stood rooted and frozen, a million thoughts running through his head. He opened his mouth to say something, but the only sound that came out was an offended sputter.
Her shoes were clacking against the steps now, and Emma was still waving the hook at her shoulder, granting him not one single look back over her shoulder.
"Well that's not even playing fair," he called out to her. Emma didn't respond. Killian groaned in frustration, snatched his belt from the floor and turned on his heel back to the room, listening to Emma's laugh echo from upstairs.
Killian pushed the drapes aside and slumped himself down on his bed. This whole thing had been some kind of nasty scheme to coerce it out of him – not entirely fair on her part. You didn't even want to discuss it when I asked, woman. He let out a long sigh and rolled onto his stomach again, his eyes wandering to the night sky. Maybe one day, there wouldn't need to be an excuse – drunken or not – for him to be with a woman. For him to be with Emma. She was all he wanted… all he'd ever wanted: brilliant, strong, and beautiful. Three hundred years was a long time, but Killian Jones loved a challenge.
"Not bloody fair at all…" How the tables turned, indeed.
