Post 4x08 and based on the fact that Killian will be soaking up every moment he gets with Emma from now on. Like, more so than usual ;)
…
Breathless
…
He kisses her hard and with abandon, his hand and hook sliding along her delicious curves, fingers grasping at every part of her that he can touch. Her lips part under his, allowing him careful tastes of everything that they can be and, now that there's no one around to quiet them, her sweet moans let him see a future laid out before the pair of them.
Her hands slide beneath his vest and his shirt, pulling the tucked in tails from his pants and letting her hands roam his back. He growls, tugging her closer and pushing her harder into the wall of his hotel room.
His hand leaves any vague semblance of innocence at the door, sliding over her clothed breast while his lips, teeth and tongue work a trilogy of magic down her jawline and onto her neck. The unsaid words linger between them, love and promise and forever, but right now it's just them. It's always been just them.
She arches her back into his touch, a sinful gasp leaving her lips when his fingers respond with a gentle squeeze. "Please, more," she whispers, her head rolled back against the wall while his hook loops into one of her belt loops and tugs her hips forward.
Everything blurs around them, just the sounds of panting and lips catching whatever piece of skin they land on as their symphony. Emma jumps when Killian urges her, wrapping her legs around his waist and experiencing everything on a completely different level. She'd heard that when you truly love someone everything changes, but god, this is just making out against a wall. She can't wait to find out how else the fire burns between them.
Gasping for air, Killian pulls away from Emma's neck to suck in a deep breath, his fingers having tugged down the neckline of her blouse, mapping out the path his lips will next take.
But before he descends, Emma raises a hand to his cheek, eyes suddenly quizzical. Her other hand continues to trace patterns on his back and he turns his lips to kiss the palm now resting on his face.
"What is it, love?" he asks gently, moving his way down to her wrist and loving it when her hand curls around into his hair and grasps a hold.
She turns his face up to meet her gaze, longingly searching for something she can't quite put her finger on, "I could ask the same thing."
He presses his lips against hers again, rocking his hips forward and drowning in her sweet whimper. It's all too much to know that he's not in control, that his entire world could fall apart at any second – whichever second the Dark One chooses to use him as his puppet.
He doesn't answer her unasked question in the end, instead deepening their embrace, becoming lost in her everything and kissing her like there is no tomorrow.
Because he knows that there is every chance that tomorrow may not come for him.
…
Thoughts?
