Because I refuse to believe that phone sex with a man as verbosely inclined as Killian Jones would be anything short of steamy and amazing.
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It was a slow day at the sheriff's station, and Emma was alone at her desk filing papers and wishing she were anywhere else. There was so little to be done that day that she had sent David home shortly before lunch, telling him she would finish up the last of the mundane paperwork herself.
She didn't regret sending David home early, there really wasn't much for him or even her to do today, but now that she was alone the station felt empty and cavernous. The dullness of the papers being filed definitely didn't help things either. Having David around warmed the atmosphere of the room and made even the most boring aspects of the sheriff station feel more like an honorable duty than a job that had just fallen into her lap.
Just as her thoughts were turning lonely, a melodious overture of stringed instruments interrupted the silence of the empty station, and Emma quickly reached for her phone off the corner of the desk. It was the Pirate's of the Caribbean theme music, a ring tone that Henry had specifically set on her phone to match her pirate boyfriend's phone number. She had been annoyed with her son for changing the settings on her phone without permission, but hadn't bothered to change that particular ring tone to anything else.
"Killian, hey," She greeted warmly; glad to have the very welcome distraction.
"Swan, how goes the paperwork?" His lilted accent floated over the phone, and she smiled.
"David told you I was still here, huh?"
"The prince and I may have exchanged words at Granny's not too long ago. Speaking of, would you want to grab some dinner later?"
"Killian, I saw you at breakfast, what, a few hours ago? You're already thinking of your next meal?" She laughed.
"Not really. Perhaps I just missed the sound of your voice, love. These talking phones really are a bloody wonder to indulge in just that."
The sound of her voice? His voice was the one she could never get enough of. It sent heat spiraling through her and could turn any mundane phrase into an innuendo-laced thrill that would haunt her fantasies. It was sex and sin on steroids, but somehow still painfully honest and open. His voice was a goddamned dream come true.
"Emma, are you completely alone right now?" He asked, his voice dropping an octave and pulling her from her thoughts.
"Maybe… Why? You thinking of coming over?" Emma knew his voice only ever dropped like that when he had one thing on his mind, and she felt a curl of heat start to spread through her at the thought. A basic conversation was definitely a welcome distraction from the paperwork, but given a choice Emma would happily take a certain other distraction instead…
Emma heard him chuckle. "Perhaps. There are certain ideas that spring to mind should I join you at the station…" He teased.
"Really?" She shifted, feeling just a little warm. "What would you do if you came over?"
"You want me to describe it to you?"
Emma bit her lip in anticipation. "Every filthy detail," She told him. It wasn't hard to picture the imaginative smirk that was probably spreading it's way across Killian's face, and Emma found herself fighting the smirk growing on hers.
"All right then. I would start by kissing you, long and slow. Take my time and map out every corner of that delectable mouth of yours, swallowing every moan and gasp I could wring from your sweet lips."
"Yeah?"
"And I'd be certain to trace a line down your neck with my tongue, and find that spot near the base that always leaves you shivering."
Dear god, she was breathing harder already and he was only describing kissing her. It figured that phone sex with Killian Jones would be like this. The man really did have a gifted tongue and a way with words.
"I could leave a mark there, suck and nibble at your creamy skin and leave a love bite. Would you like that Swan? A love bite from the pirate to mark the princess?"
"Only if I get to leave one on you," She quipped. Emma didn't know how she managed to keep her voice steady as she spoke, her breathing already labored. She already felt like a pile of mush under his words, and it was a miracle she didn't sound breathier.
She heard him groan at her response. "Oh, gladly. I would gladly take a mark from you. I'd ink it into my skin for all eternity if you wanted me to. Gods woman, you don't know what you do to me. Would you leave a mark on my neck for all to see? Or would you want it somewhere more private, somewhere sacred only for you? Perhaps on my chest, right over my heart."
She let out a chuckle at that. "If I left something there everyone would see it anyway. Modern clothing or otherwise, you still leave your shirts pretty damn open."
"Aye, and you love it."
"You're damn right I do," She admitted.
"I'd certainly leave a mark on your chest though love, something hidden and just for us, perhaps on the underside? You're so sensitive there, and the sides of your breasts, there's just something utterly responsive and wonderful about touching you there, just skimming my lips across your heated flesh, teasing you and seeing you shiver."
Emma realized her hand was moving on its own, stroking gently along the sides of her breasts with barely any pressure just like he was describing, the hardening peaks just starting to show through her shirt. She threw a quick glance to the unlocked door and debated getting up from her chair to lock it, but decided not to. It wasn't likely that anyone would actually come in today, but there was an added thrill to the idea that someone could catch her if they walked in. That she could be found getting off to the sound of Killian's voice while alone in the station.
She pressed her hand more firmly against her breast at the thought, rubbing and molding the mound through her shirt and letting out an unmistakable sigh that Killian answered with a gasp of inhalation.
"Are you touching yourself for me, darling?" He asked in awe. "Where exactly?"
"My-my breast," Emma answered, the breathlessness she had been feeling since he started this game finally catching up to her voice. "Wishing it was your hand instead, or your tongue."
His answering chuckle sent a curl of heat through her and had her rubbing her breast more firmly. "You've always seemed to have a fondness for my tongue," Killian remarked, and Emma could practically see his eyebrow lifting smugly. "And I must admit I'm very fond of using my tongue on you. You make the most delightful sounds when I do. Tell me love, are you touching your bare skin yet?"
Emma quickly unbuttoned her shirt and yanked her bra cups down, exposing the heated skin of both breasts even as she only worked at one. "I am now," She replied, rubbing at one exposed breast and imagining his large callused hand in place of hers.
"Eager, aren't we? Touch them for me. Pinch your nipples into the tight peaks I know they can turn into when I use my teeth."
She followed his wishes, pinching and pulling just like he normally did and switching between both the tips until they were darkened and tight. Emma's breathing came out in harsher gasps that mimicked the groans she heard from Killian on the other end of the phone. Groans that didn't sound as close to the phone as before. Had he put her on speakerphone?
With a smirk Emma realized he had switched his phone to speaker and was getting off on this just as much as she was. It spurned her onward, imagining him alone on the Jolly Roger or in his old room at Granny's or wherever the hell he was calling her from with his pants undone and cock in hand.
The chill of the air on her exposed breasts did nothing to cool the heat that was beginning to overwhelm the rest of her. Her shirt was too warm, her pants too constricting, and she rubbed her thighs together to relieve what tension she could from between her legs.
"You really do have the most spectacular tits darling. Warm and bloody perfect," He mused, sounding almost as out of breath as she felt.
She couldn't help the half-laugh that escaped her. "So you're- you're a tits man, huh? Not an ass man?"
"I'm an Emma man," He responded. "I told you, I'm a fan of every part of you, and every part of you deserves to be thoroughly worshipped. So if you would be so kind, darling, lets bring those hands of yours southward for some more worshipping, but keep the rest of your clothes on."
Emma's hand obeyed, stopping when she reached the edge of her jeans. "You want me to keep my jeans on?" She asked in clarification.
He hummed in reply, followed by a long groan. Emma could see him in her mind, spread eagle, with his hand lazily stroking his length in a slow and dirty build toward that final tumble over the edge as he listened to her follow his every whim. "Indeed I do. As delectable as I find your lace-clad bosom I wouldn't spend all my time there. If I were with you now I would move lower to where I know you ache and where I know I can give you such pleasure as you have never known, but to do that we need keep those pants on you for a while longer. Use them to tease you and bring you closer to that golden peak."
"How?" Emma asked in a rush.
"By bringing the heel of my palm to your nub and pressing against it ever so gently. I recall there's a seam of fabric near there that presses against you when I do that. Gods, you make the most delicious sounds when I press you there, clothed or unclothed, and it is such a sight Emma. You make such a wanton sight when you're taking your pleasure."
"Oh fuck," She moaned, hand moving between her widening legs to touch herself as he described. Emma could feel the pressure building inside her, the heat he was inspiring in her rising and threatening to overwhelm her.
"And I wouldn't stop there. I'd soon press a touch harder, move my hand in a circle against you and keep building you higher and higher. My fingers would join too. Pushing at the entrance to your center through your clothes, pumping against you and teasing you, speeding up and slowing down and changing pace at such a rate you would be unable to think properly or even dream of following its rhythm. And do you know what I would do then? When I knew you had been driven so close to your peak you could nearly taste it?"
"Wh-what?" She was so close, her fingers following the path Killian was describing in vivid detail along her denim covered clit and center. She knew Killian knew it too. He knew her body so well, knew how far he could push her, what she needed from him, and all the sounds she could make because of him. The pirate had definitely pulled every single moan and gasp and breathless sigh of his name from her lips in the time since they had started sleeping together, and he still managed to surprise her and bring new sounds streaming from her throat.
"I would taste you darling. Taste you and keep rubbing you. By now you must be soaked, absolutely gushing for me through your clothes, the heat inside you coiling tighter and tighter. I would breathe in the scent of you and watch you trembling for me from between your thighs, trembling for the release only I can give you." His voice was low and sinful and strained, and Emma could almost see him stroking himself toward completion as he spoke, his strong hand gripping the hardened flesh. The thought tightened the curl of heat already threatening to pour over her.
"Shit, I need to- I need-"
"But I wouldn't let you fall just yet."
Emma groaned. "Killian please!"
"I told you, those pants are for teasing you love. What I have in mind for your completion requires you being in a state of lesser dress. Do you think you could do that for me?" He was teasing her with his words just like he had teased her only a moment before with his heated descriptions and Emma moaned in further want.
She hastily pushed her jeans down her hips until they were trapped around her knees, unwilling to waste the time and pull them and her boots off fully. She was about to shove her panties down too until Killian's voice stopped her.
"What color undergarments are you wearing right now?"
Emma nearly rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You wanna pull that out now?"
"Humor an old pirate love. I'm painting a scene in my mind with your melodious moans just as I am painting one in yours with my words. What color?"
"Red," She said finally, wound up frustratingly tight but unwilling to touch herself just yet. Something about touching herself without his phone guidance just seemed out of line with the game they were playing right now, and like her pirate, she did love a challenge. "The one's that kinda match your old vest."
"The ones I took off of you last night with my teeth?" He questioned teasingly, and she could feel another flush coming at the memory of his perfect mouth pulling down her panties reverently. Her fingers came to hover over her panty-clad core, so close to touching but not wanting to break her own unspoken rule for this game.
"Y-yeah, those."
She heard him moan and stifled her own responding sound. "Do you remember the first time we made love? You wore those same colored panties that night too."
"You remember that?" Emma asked, genuinely surprised.
"Of course I do, it concerns you. And because I have such a fondness for that particular pair of undergarments I think I'll have you leave them on for this next bit. But I know how tightly strung you must be right now darling, so worry not, I plan on taking very good care of you."
"Prove it," Emma challenged, needing him to tell her to do something, to move somehow, to ease the tension that was so built up inside her.
"Shove the fabric aside Swan," He demanded. "And tell me, would you want my fingers or my mouth to satisfy you where you ache most?"
"Mouth," She answered quickly.
"Can't get enough of my mouth, love?" He mused again. "Just as I can't get enough of your taste. By now I'd have already taken in the sweet scent of you, heady and warm, but now I would be able to taste you on my lips. I could take my sweet time licking every part of your center and coating your essence on my tongue, committing the taste to memory. I would slide my tongue along your slit, not entering you just yet, but gathering all the moisture of you that I could first."
Emma's fingers mimicked his words as best as she could, shoving the panties aside to slide over her lower lips, teasing herself at his implied request. The spring of pleasurable tension was already coiling itself inside her once again, getting ready to unravel and send her spiraling out of herself very soon.
"I'd have to hold an arm over your stomach though. We both know how responsive you are to my touch and how much you like to buck and play while I work you over." Already she could feel her hips rutting against her own teasing fingers, and she fought to control their motion, to extend out the blissful feelings that much longer. "My arm would pull you closer though, and my mouth would move from your delicious entrance to find that perfect nub above, sucking on it to hear you scream and watch you thrash for me."
"Killian, please, oh fuck, I need to-"
"Touch yourself there for me, darling. How do your fingers compare?"
She cried out. "They don't! You're tongue is better. It feels so fucking good on me!" Her thumb worked her clit while her fingers began thrusting shallowly into her core, desperately needing the release he had inspired in her. Emma could feel the wave of orgasm fast approaching, and she swam toward it, chasing it down with abandon as she listened to Killian's words spurning her closer.
"I wish I could see you right now, wanton and wanting and absolutely gorgeous, your heaving breasts exposed to the air and your hand bringing you to completion. You're always so beautiful when you're flushed Emma, so beautiful when you come. Do that for me now. Fall apart for me and let me hear you, Emma," Killian commanded.
She came at the sound of her name on his lips, a wave of pleasure cascading over her in one great sweep. The blood rushed from her head and the vision left her eyes while she lost herself in a blissful haze, content to just float in the pool of euphoria she had fallen into. Through the haze of her orgasm she thought she heard Killian's own strangled moan and a prayerful chanting of her name through the phone, and she hoped he was as spent as she was.
When Emma came back to herself, she realized she was slouched so far down the chair it was a miracle she hadn't fallen off of it. A similar miracle had apparently occurred where her phone was concerned, the device still wedged in her hand between her shoulder and ear as she panted helplessly into the speaker. Her clothes were a complete and matching wreck to the disheveled heap she knew she resembled, shirt and bra thrown open, her pants shoved down to her knees, hand still shifting against her lightly rutting hips. Emma had a vague idea of the picture she painted and she thought briefly of sending a post-orgasm picture of herself to Killian, but decided that it required too much energy.
"Somehow I just knew you would be into phone sex," She managed to breathe out, sated and content against the chair.
His laugh, while slightly distorted over the phone, was music to her now well-tuned ears and a fluttering of feelings and heat washed over her at the sound. "Is that what this is called? Phone sex? Rather aptly named I suppose."
"Yeah, it kinda is, huh?"
"You were as bloody magnificent as always love, but you never did answer my question from earlier. Would you want to have dinner tonight?"
"Well that's one way to ask a girl to dinner," She joked. Still a little breathless, Emma took a moment to gather her thoughts before replying. "Do you think we could get some take out from Granny's and eat on the Jolly? 'Cause as fun as this was I'm not letting you out of my sight tonight."
Another chuckle came from the other end of the line. "As you wish m'love."