Author's note: Another Tumblr prompt. If you have something you'd like my (apparently) dirty muse to tackle...just let me know! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Clearly, if owned them, they'd be on HBO.
"It's late, love. I should walk you back."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Killian, it's around the corner. I'm a big girl. With magic and everything." Plus she didn't know if she could control herself; he'd been subtly tormenting her all night. The celebration for the defeat of the Wicked Witch was in full swing; Henry had long since gone to bed, exhausted. He was up there now in the room he was still sharing with Emma.
Killian brushed his hand over her lower back. "Ah, but I am a gentleman, Swan. What kind of suitor would I be if I didn't walk my lady home?"
Emma snorted. "Suitor? Is that what you are?" She'd have thought that whole True Love's Kiss thing would have moved them past the awkward teenager phase fairly quickly.
Killian smirked. "Well, I didn't want to presume..."
Emma tugged on the deep V of his ridiculously buttoned shirt, bringing her lips to his ear. "Oh, I'd say you're much more than that, Captain."
Killian growled softly, hand at her back again, pushing her toward the door. She offered a hurried good night to her parents as they swept past, the door jangling as they exited the diner. In no time at all, they were around the corner and inside the bed and breakfast, Killian pushing her up against the wall, his mouth covering hers in a deep passionate kiss.
"You're a bloody tease, Swan," he mumbled, sucking on her lower lip.
"Me? I wasn't the one who couldn't keep their hand to themselves," she countered, fingers tugging on his dark locks. She kissed him hungrily, almost as if she'd never get another chance. So many times in the last few days, she'd nearly lost him. She didn't want to ever take his presence in her life for granted again.
Killian hoisted her legs up around his waist, grinding his now evident arousal against her. Emma groaned softly. "Killian...we can't. Henry's upstairs." Not to mention, they were barely inside Granny's foyer. There was nowhere for them to go.
"You'd just leave a me in this state, Swan?" he whispered, lips brushing along her jaw. "That's very bad form, you know."
She knew exactly how he felt; she wanted him too. But they couldn't...could they? "The couch," she muttered, peering through the dark hall. She prayed that Granny stayed over at the diner for just a little while longer. She so did not want to get caught in a compromising position right now.
Killian did as she asked, walking them over to the couch in the sitting room with her still wrapped around him, his hand and hook under her ass. As soon as they were there, he put her down and shrugged off his long coat, while Emma shed her jacket. It was far too hot in all that heavy leather. Killian sat on the couch, tugging her down into his lap. Emma straddled his hips, her lips instantly in his again. Good god, but he could kiss. She supposed three hundred years of living—along with the whole pirate thing—was good practice. A flash of jealousy for all those others bloomed in her gut and she didn't like it, not one bit. She ground her hips against his, to remind him who he was with.
Killian groaned, his hand sweeping under her shirt to caress her skin. "Gods, I want you, Emma. I've always wanted you."
"That so?"
"Aye, even after you chained me up on that beanstalk," he said, his voice low and gravely, going straight through her. He thrust his hips up; she could feel the heat through their clothes. "Although, I don't think I'd have been gentle back then. Bloody furious, I was."
"Oh god." Emma couldn't help but picture how the encounter at Rumple's cell would have gone if they'd been alone. Much, much differently, surely. Emma rocked her hips back against his instinctively, seeking as much friction as she could get. Killian's hand snaked back under her shirt, coming around to her breast, pushing the fabric covering it out of the way to tease her.
"Would you have liked that, Swan? Being taken up against that cave wall by an angry pirate?" His words were like liquid fire rushing through her veins, every word, every inflection designed to drive her mad with lust and want. He pinched her nipple, hard. "Answer me, love."
"Oh fuck. Yes! God yes." Her head fell back, exposing her neck to him in the dim light. She didn't know what had gotten into her, but she wanted—needed—more. She had a feeling he could get her off just like this, with only his words and grinding hips, no need to touch her more intimately.
Killian laughed low in his throat. "Gods, but I wanted to. Strip you naked and ravish you properly. Mark you as mine for all the world to see. Teach you a lesson about crossing Captain Hook, maybe spank that delectable derriere of yours. You're enough to drive a man to madness, Swan."
"Christ, Killian," Emma moaned softly. She was dry humping Captain Fucking Hook in the middle of Granny's sitting room, with him telling her all the filthy, dirty things he wanted to do to her and she needed more. Needed him in the worst possible way.
"You wanted this even then, didn't you? Wanted to know how I would feel inside you, if I could make you scream for me. Did you think about me, darling? Touch yourself while whispering my name? Be honest now." Every sentence was punctuated by a sharp thrust of his hips, his hardness pressing along the seam of her jeans, making her whimper with need.
"Yes, alright? I dreamt about you, damn it." She was too far gone to be ashamed. His face had haunted her when they'd returned to Storybrooke. It didn't take long before her imagination had gone wild, using him as the source of her fantasies. Then he was here and she hadn't known what to do about it, since he was still hellbent on revenge at the time.
"That's my girl," Killian purred in her ear. He tweaked her nipple again, his hook tearing into her blouse, popping buttons going everywhere. "Show me, love. I want to see you."
Without preamble, Emma jerked at her pants, popping the button and lowering the zip. She hopped off his lap and shoved the pants down, toeing off her boots. This was insanely reckless—they could get caught any moment—but Emma didn't care. If she didn't come soon, she might spontaneously combust from the heat. Her shirt was in tatters, but it didn't matter. Emma spread herself on the coffee table in front of him, the fingers of her left hand automatically going to her breast and twirling the hard aching nipple. Her right hand slipped down her stomach and over her clit, making her shiver. God, she needed this, needed some kind of relief. She imagined his hand on her, his fingers teasing her flesh, just she had so many times before. Emma heard Killian rustling over on the couch and she raised her head to see him pulling harshly on the string holding back his straining cock. He sighed in relief as it came free, his hand instantly wrapping around it and stroking firmly.
"I didn't tell you to stop, love. Show me."
Emma bit back another groan and tore her eyes away from him. Her fingers danced expertly over her flesh, thumb flicking her clit as her fingers teased her entrance. Finally, she plunged two fingers inside and bucked her hips, wishing it was him instead. But if he wanted a show, then she would make sure he got one.
"Gods, Emma. So beautiful." Emma couldn't see him, but she imagined him stretched out casually on the couch, stroking his cock as he watched her pleasure herself.
"Fuck, Killian," she whispered, flutters beginning to overtake her.
"Soon, love. I'll have you soon. Come for me, Emma."
Two more flicks of her clit and she was there, hips rocking against her hand as she bit her lip to muffle her cries. She'd never done anything so unabashedly wanton in her life and it was all because of him. Killian made her want things she'd never even considered before and to her surprise, she found that she liked it.
"You are bloody gorgeous when you come, Emma."
Emma slowly raised herself up, heart still beating madly in her chest, and she saw him sitting there with the smuggest grin on his face. And she desperately wanted to kiss it off. Her eyes traveled down to where he was still hard for her. "Need some help with that?"
"If you think you can handle it."
"I think you might be the one who can't handle it, pirate." Emma stood on slightly unsteady legs and moved back to straddle him again, this time with no barriers between them. "We'll have to be quick." The sounds of the party still filtered through the wall, but there was no telling how much time they had. They were definitely pressing their luck. But she couldn't in good conscience leave him like this, not when she'd dreamt about this moment for so long.
"I am a pirate, darling," he replied with a salacious grin. Without warning, his hand slipped between them and he positioned himself at her entrance, coaxing her down.
They both let out a low groan as she slid onto him, his long thick cock stretching her. It took her moment to adjust—Christ, he was big—but then they found a rhythm, Killian thrusting into her as she sank down, her legs spread wide. Emma captured his lips in needy kiss as she rode him, pure need driving her. They had waited so long for this; she was almost sorry it was on Granny's couch and not in a bed, but with each delicious drag of him against her walls, the less worried she became. This felt too good, too perfect to be anything to regret.
"Fuck, Emma," Killian muttered, his lips sliding along her neck. "You feel incredible."
"So...fuck...do you." He'd shifted the angle under her, hitting the spot that make her shudder. "Right there, Killian. God."
Emma moved faster, every drive his her hips bringing them both closer to the edge. Killian slid his hand back between them and flicked her clit the way he'd seen her do and she gasped sharply. Her body trembled. "Close."
"Kiss me, Swan," Killian commanded. Emma obeyed him instantly, kissing him like her life depended on it, fingers clutching at his thick dark hair. She was still kissing him when her orgasm crashed into her moments later, their kiss swallowing her shout. She felt Killian pulse inside her as his own release struck, knocking the wind out of him. He tore his lips from hers, swallowing huge gulps of air as they rode out their climaxes, their bodies trembling.
Emma's head fell to his shoulder. "Holy shit," she breathed. This was not what she'd anticipated when Killian offered to walk her home, but damn if she didn't regret it. She loved him, had wanted to be with him for ages, but she'd been so scared. Scared that he was just like all the others. But he wasn't. Killian Jones was her True Love and she was just beginning to accept what that meant. If it meant more moments like this, then Emma would never complain about that.
They stayed that way far longer than they should have, neither of them able to muster the energy to move. But still, the room stayed quiet. "We should get you upstairs, love," Killian said at last, his hand sliding along her spine.
"Yeah." She raised her head and looked at her shirt. "You ruined this, you know."
"I'd apologize if I thought you hadn't enjoyed it," Killian said. "But I know you did, Swan." He grinned.
Emma rolled her eyes. "You're incorrigible."
"And yet, you love me."
Emma's expression softened. "Yeah, I really do." She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Come on, let's get upstairs before anyone finds us, Captain."
"As you wish, my love."
Henry wasn't surprised to find Killian in their room the next morning, his mother curled into the pirate's side. "About time," he muttered, slipping out to get some pancakes down at the diner.