"Litter mates?" Killian asked after some thought, holding his shot aloft. The vibrant red, cherry-flavoured liquid swirled up the side of the glass and nearly spilled out. "I have one brother."
"None," Emma declared triumphantly and motioned for him to drink down the shot. Killian sighed emphatically and threw his head back, not enjoying the bitter taste of the oddly sweet alcohol on his tongue.
They had decided to lighten their moods, changing their conversation to something a little easier. Somewhere between compliments, but before they had learned each other's names, they had begun a game of shots that had become quite competitive.
"Alright," Killian smacked his lips together, sucking his tongue to try and rid his mouth of the foul excuse for booze. "Longest time spent as a wolf."
Emma paused, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling as she poured him a new shot. This was a tough one. As wolves, the longer they spent in that form, the harder it became to keep track of time, and it was sometimes too easy to spend days in wolf form.
"I think it was probably like four days," Emma said, a little unsure. "Maybe five." She twisted her smile with thought, her brow knitting together.
"Well, which is it, love?" Killian laughed. "Four or five?" He urged drunkenly.
"Five!" Emma exclaimed quickly, slapping her hand down on the table.
"Too bad," Killian smirked, leaning back in his seat. "I spent eight days as a wolf after the death of my mother."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Emma sobered briefly before Killian waved her worry away with a quick flick of his wrist.
"Don't be." He shook his head and pointed to her still full glass. "Now, drink up!"
Emma gave him a small smile before tossing the ultra sweet drink into her mouth, swallowing it as quickly as she could. "God, this stuff is disgusting." She winced at the taste.
"All part of the game," Killian assured her. "Your turn," he prompted, filling her glass once more.
"Oh I know!" Emma squealed excitedly. "Most embarrassing place you shifted."
"Oh, good one," Killian whispered smoothly, tapping his fingertips against the gingery flecks in his stubble. Killian chuckled to himself as he recalled several of his embarrassing changes, but one stuck in his mind. "I shifted in a supermarket once, full of people." Emma gasped and tried to stifle her laugh. "My mother threw her coat over me to hide it, I was only a lad, and then she was escorted from the store for disobeying the no pets policy."
"Awww," Emma tried to sound sympathetic but her hysterics overpowered it. "Poor puppy."
"Yes, well, it was very embarrassing. I was still learning to control it." Killian smiled. "I'm sure yours cannot be any worse."
Emma shook her head. "Nope, you got me. I can't beat that," Emma agreed, drinking her shot for the second time in a row.
"First change," Killian murmured after a twisted expression that signified his thought erupted into delight. He leaned forward across the huge table they had migrated to and sloppily poured more of the bright red alcohol into Emma's shot glass.
"Eleven," Emma said slowly, the words tumbling from her mouth haphazardly as she narrowed her gaze at the man opposite her. She caressed the tiny shot glass in her fingertips, eager for his reply.
Killian gave her a wolfish grin and covered the top of his identical shot glass with the palm of his hand. "Ten. Drink up, love," he laughed.
Emma gave him a wide-eyed stare and then lifted the shot glass to her lips, letting the acrid taste of sour liquor slide down her throat. It coated her tongue offensively and she shook her head from side to side, poking her tongue out with a sound of disgust.
"Ten?" Emma repeated, aghast.
Killian nodded at her and raised his eyebrow playfully. In the werewolf community it was generally considered that the earlier in their human life a male got to their wolf day, the stronger and more virile they were. It was how pack members who were not destined to be wed by the choice of their alpha picked their mates. The strong mated with the strong and the late bloomers were often left to a life of solitude.
Emma gave him an impressed look, turning her bottom lip out as she raked her gaze over him once more. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the darkened corner of the dive bar they were sitting in, but Emma saw more than just the piercing stare he was giving her. She saw the man, tall, perfectly shaped and with the bulge of muscles in all the right places. His shirt was rolled up to his elbows, the dark blue check pattern crinkled as the material folded over on itself but stretched over his bicep. It was untucked, covering the too tight dark blue jeans, and a surge of arousal flushed through Emma at the mere sight of him.
She had seen him as a wolf. He wasn't terribly large or imposing, battle worn and inflicted with scars, but he was charming and he had spirit that echoed her own. Emma couldn't help but smile as she recalled their encounter and how he had instantly trusted her by exposing his belly, rolling around on the forest floor and whimpering as he had licked at her maw. He might not have been the biggest, baddest wolf but he had just the perfect amount of human in him to make him desirable.
And it was at that moment, as he filled her shot glass for another round, that Emma felt the pull of desire. She wondered how far the sprouting of fine black hairs from his collar extended down his torso and if his wolf form was any indication of how hairy his human form was. She wondered what his lips felt like on hers and how it would make her spine tingle to have the scruff along his jawline scratch at the delicate skin of her inner thigh.
"Your turn," he said, watching her with a predatory gaze. "Unless, you have something else in mind?" He pried seductively, reading her like an open book.
Emma fought back the blush that threatened to expose her thoughts and shuffled around in the booth until she was almost pressed up against the side of him. The material of her barely there thigh length dress rode up even more and Emma gently parted her knees, knowing how the scent of her arousal would test his resolve. She could smell herself and had no doubt he could too. Emma shot a quick glance around them, and then, content they were not being watched, peeled his clenched hand from his grip on the bottle they had procured for their game, and slid both of them under the table.
He watched her with fascination but his expression had shifted to a puppy like stare, his eyebrow raised on his forehead and his tongue darting out to lick away the traces of rum and cherry from his lips. Emma placed his hand on her knee, the heat from his fingertips colliding with the coolness of her skin and as she pulled his hand higher up her thigh towards what she knew he was absolutely already drowning in the scent of, she could have sworn she heard him whimper.
"Gods, you smell amazing," Killian growled in the back of his throat and extended his grip around the flesh of her thigh. He leaned forward, looming over her with his bulk and burying his face in the crook of her neck, eager to experience more of her intoxicating influence as it filled his senses.
"Easy, boy," Emma purred, rolling her hips a little towards his fingertips that were just out of reach. When Killian brushed his thumb over her exposed folds, they both gasped in surprise and Emma's hand shot up to clutch at his shirt, the material balling in her fist in a move that pulled his face even closer to hers.
"Where are your knickers, love?" Killian breathed against her face, his lips parted a hair's breadth from her own. He didn't wait for her to answer before her pressed his thumb between her folds and found her sensitive nub.
"Lost them in the woods," Emma forced from her mouth, trying desperately to keep her voice composed under his tantalising assault of her clit. Her forehead rolled against his and she heard their heart beats quicken in their chests.
"How careless," Killian whispered, a smirk playing across his face again as Emma's body reacted to his touch. They were drunk, so very drunk, but it wasn't on the alcohol. Killian was about to explode, the feel of Emma's scorching hot flesh under his touch each time he swiped his finger through her slickness sending him into a state of madness. "I want to taste you," he growled darkly against her lips.
"You would?" Emma teased, pulling her face back a little, eager to keep the tension alive with the promise of a kiss but nothing more. The dynamic of their exchange shifted back and forth, each teasing the other as they kept their gazes locked and practically breathed the same air.
"Don't make me beg." Killian looked at her longingly through his lashes, his fingers finding another particularly sensitive spot at the apex of her thighs.
"I'd rather make you pant." Emma grinned and without giving him time to object, she tugged his hands from her sex and lifted it between them. Killian watched her, confused for a second, before she leaned forward and sucked on his fingers, her tongue massaging the digits and lapping up all of her own juices from them with a content hum.
Killian was frozen, shocked and aroused beyond anything he had ever felt before. His erection was more than evident in the confines of his jeans now, his face paling as at that exact moment his blood was diverted elsewhere in his body. He blinked once, twice, three times just to make sure the she-wolf in front of him was in fact real, smacking her lips together and giving her luscious lips a last lick to gather up any remainder of her nectar. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he struggled to swallow the dry lump that had formed there, trying to steady his gaze that had blurred even more from his inebriation.
"Are you a good boy?" Emma finally touched him, palming the side of his face with a tender touch that was like nothing he had ever experienced. "Would you like a treat?" He nodded dumbly. It was all he could manage, slack jawed and dizzy with arousal.
With a smirk of contentment Emma closed the minute gap between them and pressed her lips to his. It quickly escalated, the taste of her on his lips too much for Killian to contain any longer, and he pushed hard against her mouth, parting his lips and hungrily sucking on her bottom lip. The beast yearned to be free, to have more than the faintest taste, and his tongue slipped into her mouth where even more of her addictive flavour still lingered on her tongue.
Emma's hands snaked around behind his neck, her fingers lacing in the hair on the nape of his neck and holding his lips to hers. The sounds of the bar faded away as they kissed and all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears in time with the throb of anticipation between her thighs. Killian's roughened palm found her hip and roamed over the curve, eager to memorise the shape of her under his hands and never forget the feeling she had awoken inside of him.
It was lust, pure and simple. Animalistic want of the highest level expressed in a tangle of limbs as they pawed at each other, tongues fighting for dominance and low groans escaping their throats. Killian pulled her to him harder, a huge hand splayed out over the taught material that covered her lower back, and swiped his tongue over the roof of her mouth, desperately trying to reach the last traces of juices in her mouth.
When she thought she couldn't breathe anymore, Emma pulled her mouth from his, a small feminine giggle slipping from her mouth as he chased after her lips like a hungry dog. "Someone ought to put you on a leash." She quirked her eyebrow at him, pressing her hand to his chest and holding him at bay so she could catch her breath. His heartbeat thundered under her palm and she gave him a sly smile.
"Are you volunteering, love?" Killian panted leaning into her, reluctant to let her go.
"Do you have a car?" Emma whispered, biting her bottom lip and giving him an alluring look through her lashes.
"Of course." Killian beamed, his hair ruffled and his cheeks flushed just above the line of his stubble. There was absolutely no way they would be driving anywhere; they were both way too drunk for that, but Killian was pretty sure driving was not on Emma's agenda. "It's out back," he said darkly, unable to resist another quick grope of her beautiful body shape as he slid his hands over the side swell of her breast.
"Take me," Emma said huskily, her words full of innuendo and double meaning. "Take me now."
Killian wasn't sure which hurt the most; the way his erection was painfully rubbing at the inside of his jeans, the rough seam making him even harder as it caressed his shaft, or the shooting ache through his lower back as Emma slammed him into the hood of his Mustang and then flattened herself over the top of him. His breath shot out of his lungs, escaping into the chill of the night air in a wisp of condensation as they made out in the darkened corner of the parking lot.
It didn't matter that it was almost as black as the space around them because they could both see as clear as day. Their nighttime vision was as good as it was during daylight, but it was severely dulled by their senses being awash with each other's scent as eager hands roamed over bodies and teeth clashed against each other with passion. Emma's fingernails scraped over the taut fabric of his shirt, grinning against his mouth when she felt his nipples peak to attention underneath her fingertips.
"My keys…" Killian mumbled sideways out of his mouth and slid his hands to his pocket. Emma grabbed his wrist and placed his hand back on the curve of her hip with a grin.
"Here is just fine," she panted, the smell of her soaking wet core too much for even her to handle as she tore at the leather strap securing his jeans in place. The buckle of his belt clattered under her assault and Killian shot a glance down between their bodies to watch, an excited smirk playing across his face which Emma mirrored coyly.
"You're incredible," Killian stammered, his body rolling around the highly polished hood of his classic as she aggressively pulled at his jeans until the button popped open and his straining erection easily opened his fly as it fought to be free.
Emma licked her lips with a groan and smoothed her hand over his length, an action that even through the material of his boxers, Killian thought might end their night as quickly as it had begun. "You talk too much," she purred and stroked his member through his boxers. He clenched his teeth, the muscles along his jawline pulling tighter than they ever had in his entire life as he fought to compose himself. With a grunt of exertion, he pushed himself to his feet, clutching Emma to him as he spun them both around until the back of her thighs touched the cold metal of the chromed bumper.
Emma yelped at the contact, her body prickling with heat and goosebumps rippling over every inch of skin she had exposed with the contrast. She looked up at him, his once blue eyes now a shattering shade of grey, the tiniest flecks of blue only visible because of how close they were standing.
"Would you rather I show you some of this old dog's new tricks?" He looked at her, straight faced and with the most predatory stare she had ever seen. It scared her a little and her breath caught in her throat, her grip on his shoulders tightening a little as his fingers lifted the edge of her skirt up, rolling the blood red fabric higher until she was totally exposed to him. It was Emma's turn to be awestruck, her usually quick wit long gone, abandoned with every other bodily mechanism she might have had in her arsenal as he slipped his hand between her thighs once more and grinned from ear to ear at how wet she was.
"Oh," Emma gasped, pulling down hard on his shoulders, her eyes fluttering closed as her cheek smoothed itself against his.
"I'm going to call you Old Mother Hubbard," Killian growled, quickening the pace of his fingers against the hardness of her clit. "Because you've given this dog a bone." Emma's hand slapped against the back of his neck, holding his face exactly where it was so his words could dribble into her ear with all the temptation she swore had never had her as wet as she was right now. She didn't even register what he was saying, it was how he was speaking that had her so worked up and helpless in his arms, so she didn't even notice when he turned her around and pressed his hand between her shoulder blades so that she had no choice but to lean over the hood of his car.
"Oh, fuck me," Emma rasped in anticipation, a shiver shaking her entire body.
"Not yet, love," Killian smirked, sinking to his knees behind her exposed behind. "I told you I wanted to taste you." He exaggerated his inhale, taking in a full gulp of the night air that was laced with the provocative smell of her arousal. Killian was nigh on salivating with her glistening folds so close to his face, the rewards of his ministrations within reaping distance of his tongue and his body reacting to it like it was Pavlov's bell.
Not wanting to waste a single second more, he closed the gap and felt Emma quake in his grasp as he lapped at her opening. Werewolves naturally ran hot but Killian thought Emma's sex was going to burn him alive, the honey-like sap that was virtually pouring from her, doing nothing to cool his tongue in the fire of her loins. She was like his favourite rum, sweet, exotic and with a hint of spice that set his heart racing in his chest and made his blood boil.
Emma had nothing to grab onto, nothing to ground her to reality as he sucked on her most intimate area with a hunger she hadn't realised he possessed. On the outside, he was mild and displayed none of the wolfish dominance every other man in her life exerted, but when she had flirted with the idea of tempting him she had no idea she would release his inner beast. Or that, other than his cocky quips, he would be so talented with his mouth.
"Fuck," Emma whispered again, her nipples straining against the hood. Her dress was minimal, barely even there, and offered to hide nothing her body was displaying in response to Killian's tongue between her legs. "You...fuck...I can't…"
"Let go," Killian whispered darkly, his hands smoothing up the outside of her thighs as he held her still. "I'll hold onto you," he panted, tongue already out to continue its flicking against her clit that had coated his scruffy short beard in her arousal.
Emma's legs began to shake, fine beads of sweat sprouting from the hairline on her brow. She had no control, no ability to do anything but pray that he would keep his promise as she came, her orgasm ripping through her so violently that she felt like she was falling and would never stop. She had gone blind, flecks of white light flashing behind her eyelids all she could see and the more he licked at her, the harder it was to breathe. And then, just when she thought she couldn't take any more he stopped, a rush of cold air hitting her sex when he pulled his face away and rose to his feet behind her.
"You alright, love?" he soothed, leaning over her back carefully as not to crush her with his weight, his hands skimming over any bare patch of skin he could find. Emma felt the tickle of hairs against the back of her thighs and smiled to herself, still unable to open her eyelids, when she felt the firmness of his bare erection pressing against the crease of her behind.
"I think so," Emma sighed, the side of her face pressed to the now warmed surface of his Mustang hood. The metallic blue paint had warmed under her skin and it was comforting in the chill of the night.
Killian bit his tongue between his teeth and kicked Emma's feet apart, stepping into the space behind her. He took himself in hand, rubbing his weeping tip over her folds, grinning through gritted teeth when Emma whined beneath him and pushed back a little until his tip was enveloped in her core. "Good," he said huskily, his voice changed with his lust. "Now let me show you how a real wolf fucks."
Emma hadn't even come down from her first orgasm when he was pushing into her, the slow drag of his length along her inner walls as he filled her up making her eyes roll back in her head and her entire body stiffen. The ebb of her first release still lingered on her skin, heightening her responsiveness to new stimuli and sending her body into an instant state of sexual euphoria. Her body felt limp like it wasn't hers and she collapsed forward onto the hood with a clunk, bumping her forehead.
"Oh shit," She groaned, palming her forehead to make sure there was no skin broken. Her discomfort was short lived because when Killian angled his hips, buried himself inside of her to the hilt and rolled his hips just so, he hit the spot inside of her that made her toes curl and set every hair on her body standing on end, her expletives were for a whole new reason. "Oh shit," she breathed, reaching behind her to clutch at the hairy thigh pressed against her buttocks.
"You've got another one in you, don't you, lass?" Killian said with a gravelling tone, his voice as shaky as his legs as he fought his own impending release. Emma's nails dug into his thigh and he was sure they would leave at least tiny round bruises in the morning. He hooked one of his hands behind her knee, ignoring her squeak of protest as he lifted her leg and planted her foot firmly on his bumper, opening her up to him even more. It also gave him the perfect access to her clit once more, and as he continued his thrusts, in and out, deeper and deeper each time, he gently rolled her nub under his thumb.
Emma had nothing to clutch, nothing to help relieve the absolutely painful pleasure coursing through her, so she fisted her hand in her own hair and tugged hard, only to then release it and bite down on her balled fist. Who was this wolf? Emma had never known anyone like him. He was so attentive to her needs, making sure that she found her pleasure before his own, and not just once, but twice. It was so unlike werewolves to show this much care and if she hadn't have smelled his Were scent, she would have sworn blind he was human.
"There!" Emma cried when her inner walls began to flutter around him and she felt the rush of blood to her sex. "Oh, fuck, right there…"
Killian increased his pace, satisfied that he had found the bundle of nerves that would send her crashing into her second orgasm. He clawed at her hips, pulling her to him on every thrust, impaling her over and over until she had no breath left to scream with and he felt the tell tale signs of her climax gripping at his length. Emma came, harder than her first, her entire body trembling on the hood of his Mustang, and rendering her entire body useless. Killian held onto her, making sure she didn't slip from the car, as his legs wobbled and he emptied himself into the depth of her cavernous warmth with a few stuttered jerks of his hips.
Killian collapsed, his knees finally giving out and he pulled Emma with him as he fell to the concrete floor of the parking lot. She slipped from the hood with zero protests, landing on his lap with a thud and a soft groan. He was still rock hard inside of her despite his release, her inner walls still throbbing around his sensitive tip, pulling him deeper inside of her and holding him in place.
He never wanted to stop feeling lost inside of her, never wanted to lose the connection he had with her, and maybe it was the thrill of the chase but he had caught his quarry and wasn't about to let her go without a fight. The silence that fell over them was not uncomfortable, it just was. They were both dizzy, drunk on alcohol and each other, and remiss to stop touching her, Killian smoothed the fabric of her dress back down over her buttocks to give her some sort of dignity back.
"Wow," he panted, swiping a hand over his brow and brushing a few tendrils of his fallen hair from his face. "I didn't get your name," he grinned smugly, the side of his mouth turning up to expose his teeth. "I'm Killian."
"It's Emma," she breathed, gasping to cure the burn in her lungs. "And that's what I had in mind," she cooed with a wink.
