Note: It's taken several years, but here is the penultimate chapter to this story. Thanks to the shipmates behind CS March Madness for giving me what I needed to finish this, a deadline! The final chapter will be up this month.

Chapter 8

David glanced towards Granny's trying to see what might be keeping Robin and Regina, but between the dark of night and the falling snow, which was no longer Regina's signature purple and was once again a more natural pristine white, he couldn't see a thing. He considered walking over himself, but the tension had been understandably thick between those two all day and he knew they probably had a lot to talk about; it was not a conversation he was eager to interrupt.

David turned back to Belle and Gold, about to comment on the length of time the other two had been gone, only to witness Gold ushering his wife quickly down the street. They were almost at the edge of the snow-less bubble Regina had created when David's voice boomed behind them. "Where do you think you're going?"

Gold stopped and turned with an obsequious smile. "My wife is cold; I'm taking her back in the shop."

"That's fine. Belle can leave if she likes." David's voice was every bit that of the authoritative royal. "But you're staying here."

"I'm afraid I can't oblige you. With a crazed person on the loose, I must stay with her."

"No," David replied flatly and then he looked at Belle who appeared taken aback by his firm refusal. David relented and adopted a more moderate tone. "We think the person creating this storm is a young woman who was trapped in your husband's vault. Surely you must see how valuable his assistance is?"

Belle, who was gripping her husband's arm, turned to David and asked in innocent tones, "If Rumple says he doesn't know, then what more do you want from us?"

David eyed her shrewdly, could any person really be in this much denial about the person she married? However, when he spoke, it was with gentle understanding. "Belle, don't you see what's going on here? We think that a magical urn came back through the portal with Hook and Emma last night, from your husband's vault. We think a young woman was in that urn. A woman who is angry enough that she's creating this storm and knocked out Hook because she thought he was the one who put her there. There's already well over a foot of snow on the ground. If we don't find her, and this storm keeps going, I don't know what'll happen; my guess is we'll all be buried alive. We have to find a way to stop it before that happens. Your husband was missing all day, he clearly knows more than he's saying. Are you okay risking the life of every soul in Storybrooke because you're cold? If you need to warm up, I suggest you join Robin and Regina at Granny's for a coffee while your husband stays out here with me."

Belle's eyes were saucer-like by the time David finished speaking, she turned to Rumple, trembling either from the cold or from David's words. "I'm fine, I can stay. If you can help..." she let her voice trail off in an unasked question.

The man sighed and turned to David. "Have you considered that perhaps my presence will be more of a hindrance, than a help?"

David narrowed his eyes at him. "Many times, but why don't you explain yourself."

xXx

"Wait, Regina!" Robin yelled as he stepped out from behind Regina.

"What?" Regina looked back to Robin, a fireball perched on her hand at the ready. "She just froze Granny's! I might not love her lasagna, but it's an institution in Storybrooke."

"I know, but look at her. She's scared." Robin stepped forward and held his hands up as a sign of peace. "Hi, my name is Robin; this is Regina, what's your name?"

"Don't come any closer!" The woman barked. As per Hook's description, she was a young, very beautiful, and very angry looking blonde woman.

"Okay, no problem," Robin complied and stepped back, however he didn't lose eye contact with her. "Listen, if you promise not to freeze anything else, my friend, Regina here, will put away her fireball and we can have a conversation." He looked back and gave Regina a pleading look. Regina didn't seem pleased about it, but she did lower her hand, though the fire still burned in her palm.

Robin looked back to the woman. "There, see, no one has to get hurt. Now, why don't we calmly discuss whatever it is that has you afraid?"

"Why do you think I'm afraid?" snapped the woman with bravado. However, Robin hadn't made a great leap. There was a tremor to her voice and the look in her eyes radiated fear. If he hadn't seen her turn Granny's to ice, he would have had a hard time believing she was responsible for creating the storm or hurting Hook.

"Because you don't seem like someone who would purposely hurt innocent people."

"Maybe I am!" she said defensively, but she looked unsettled by what he'd said.

"If so you're doing a good job. You've brought the town to a standstill and I hear you knocked out and almost froze the savior's boyfriend." Regina spoke matter-of-factly, but allowed the fireball in her palm to extinguish. "The savior is not someone you want to make an enemy of…"

"Did I hurt him?" The woman swallowed roughly.

"Yes," Robin replied truthfully. "He was unconscious and almost died from being out in the cold, but we think he's going to recover."

"I thought he was the one who trapped me, but..."

"You now realize that's not true," Robin finished for her, the pieces starting to come together, albeit slowly. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. Do you have any idea where you are or how you got here?"

The woman immediately looked defensive again and her posture stiffened. It was clear she didn't have an answer to the questions. Sensing her unease, Regina's hand once again filled with fire and she adopted a fighting stance.

"Please! Both of you!" Robin Hood put his hands up once again in an effort to defuse the rising tension. He gave Regina a pointed look before turning to the woman and trying to appear as kind and nonthreatening as he could. "Worry not; we think we know how you got here. We recently had..." his eyes slid to Regina once again before he referenced the unpleasantness with her sister, "an incident with a wicked witch and she opened a portal to the past of another realm. We think you must have come through the portal while it was open. We mean you no harm, but you have to stop freezing things if you want us to help you."

"I... I don't know if I can!" The woman's voice was rough, and it was apparent she was having just as bad of a day as the rest of them.

"Well, now we're getting somewhere. Why don't we talk?" Robin smiled at her. "Would you like something to eat or drink? Perhaps some tea or coffee?"

The fire died out in Regina's hand and she rubbed her palm against her coat. One might assume that her eyes would be glued to the interloper in blue, but they weren't. She was watching Robin, feeling in awe of how he was handling the situation. He was so calm and so kind. It wasn't necessarily surprising, it was after all how he'd treated her when they first met and that thought pulled at her heart. He was such a good man. She'd finally found a good man to love and it had all been ripped away. She felt the anger build once again and threaten to boil over. Instead of letting that happen, she took several deep breaths and calmed herself. Nothing was helped by dwelling on her personal situation, particularly not the current crisis, so she forced herself to turn her attention back to the woman in blue.

Robin had ducked behind Granny's counter to pour a cup of coffee for the woman. When he handed it to her, he asked, "Now why don't we start by you telling us your name?"

The woman took a sip of the hot liquid and then with wide eyes she looked at Robin. "I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

xXx

"What?" Emma felt her heart-rate increase at both his question and the way his gaze was drilling through her.

"Would you like me to repeat the question?" Killian asked when she didn't elaborate. He studied her intently in the firelight, his head canted to one side quizzically. When she still didn't speak, he repeated, "In the Enchanted Forest if I hadn't already been in the Captain's Quarters, what would have happened between you and him?"

"Me and who?" Emma asked obtusely.

"Him." Killian tried to sound neutral; however, the word came out with a slightly injured sounding huff.

"You mean you?"

"I mean him."

"You do know that was you?" Emma narrowed her eyes as she watched him and tried not to feel amused at the expression on his face. It was clear that he was serious about this, but there was a surreal aspect to the conversation for her that she couldn't help but find funny.

"It was not me," Killian replied slowly, "the sentient being sitting across from you right now. I was the person already there, when you brought him home."

"He brought me home," she clarified.

"A-ha!" Killian said as if he'd scored a point in a game he didn't want to win.

"He, who also happens to be you, brought me home," Emma repeated and then bit her lip to keep from smiling. She was only moderately successful. Truth was she was finding this side to him to be very cute, not that she'd admit it to him necessarily. She hadn't often been the object of jealousy, and while as a modern woman she didn't find it a romantic notion necessarily, it was heartening that he cared enough to let it bother him. Besides, the situation was so crazy that laughter really was the best way to cope.

"What's so funny?" he demanded and crossed his arms protectively in front of him.

"You. You're jealous of yourself!" she replied pointedly.

He shrugged and looked slightly peeved. "I don't get jealous."

"All evidence to the contrary." She nudged his thigh with her foot in a playful manner. When he looked back to her through the dim light, she smirked teasingly at him. "First off, can we agree that even though he wasn't you," she pointed at him, "he was absolutely you?"

"That," he shook his head, but finally allowed a small smile, "is nonsensical, besides, he... I... was a different person then. I'm not him anymore. You didn't even know him."

"Maybe," Emma replied with a smile, not allowing the circular nature of the conversation to daunt her. "But I liked him."

"Yes, that was apparent." Killian replied with a grimace.

"You're missing the point. I liked him. I liked you, that part of you."

"Yes, it was obvious."

Her sigh held both amusement and frustration, however when she spoke it was with care. "Is this because I kissed him? You know that was to distract him so he didn't see you."

"A distraction you were enjoying quite a bit."

At that rejoinder, Emma made a decision. She tossed back the comforter and then crawled from her end of the couch to his. His eyes went wide, and his heart rate increased at her unexpected approach. Straddling his body, she planted a bare knee on either side of his flannel-clad thighs. Her own too-large flannel pajama tops were hanging haphazardly off to the side, exposing a tempting view of her bare shoulder as she rested her hands on the blanket that still covered his shoulders. Her hair framed her face in a messy tangle making her appear untamed and, definitely, tantalizing.

He felt his groin tighten involuntarily. He was supposed to be getting answers, not getting aroused. He hugged his arms even tighter across his chest and let his gaze fall to the side and whispered, "What are you doing?"

"I never thought I'd see the day when you were insecure." Emma studied him quizzically, wishing he would make eye contact.

He shrugged noncommittally, so she continued. "You know it's not like we were together when any of this happened..." Her voice was gentle, but her meaning was clear, it wasn't necessarily any of his business who she went home with. However, she squeezed his shoulders to lessen the sting of her words. To be fair this was a rather convoluted situation, what with him being both parties of a potential time-travelling love triangle.

"I know… that's not what... I mean... no, I know we weren't together." Killian finally uncrossed his arms and gestured with his hook. Emma felt a shiver zip along her skin where the cold metal brushed inadvertently against her bare thigh. "It's just... I've been interested in pursuing you since we met." He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "And while you've clearly been charmed by me…" Even though he still wasn't looking at her, Emma rolled her eyes at that with almost theatrical flair. "You've resisted my allure. With him, you willingly went back to his cabin on the first night you met him. The first night. That's why I'm inquisitive about what you were planning to do if I hadn't been present."

Emma brought her hands to his cheeks, idly stroking his scruff with her thumbs before tilting his head so he had to look at her. "Okay. First, we were on a mission, you and me." She let her left hand fall from his cheek so she could gesture between the two of them for emphasis. "I did what I had to do for us, again, that's you and me, and our mission to succeed."

Her left hand moved back up to his shoulder, but this time she slipped it underneath the blanket. With a soft touch, she caressed over the smooth skin of his shoulder and then pressed tenderly down his arm over his bicep and along his forearm. She felt his muscles grow taut under her touch and it seemed as if his breathing had become slightly more erratic. When she reached his hand, she ran her palm over the rough skin of his knuckles and then laced her fingers with his. The tingles she felt from the contact with his bare skin and just his nearness were consuming. Mesmerized, she stared at the sight of their fingers twined together.

He squeezed her hand tenderly and then, his voice hoarse, asked, "Was there a second thing?"

What was she doing again? This proximity to him was making her lose her train of thought. Maybe she should go back to the other end of the couch. However, when she looked back to his eyes, his pupils blown wide in the firelight, she found he was watching her with an intent, but nervous expression, so she took a deep breath and then shook her head to clear it. After everything he'd done for her, namely jumping down the portal after her, she owed him an answer.

"Right…" she cleared her throat and resolved to not get distracted by him until she had said her piece. "Yes, there was." This time she squeezed his hand before she continued. "Second… it was not the first night I met him." He was about to protest but Emma moved her right hand to his lips to silence him gently with her index finger. She felt something deep in her chest well up, almost making it hard to breathe. How had she pretended for so long that she didn't have feelings for this man? Looking back over their time spent together, suddenly everything became crystal clear.

"It wasn't the first time I met him… because I met him in the Enchanted Forest right before we climbed a beanstalk together. I was attracted to him immediately, but he was a fairy tale pirate, working for the other side, hell-bent on revenge and he could see right through me, which scared the hell out of me. And then when things began to change, when we, he and I, were on the same side, when he became a friend... a very good friend... and a trusted ally, things got complicated. The attraction was always there, but I had issues, I still have issues, and there were curses and danger… "

Emma stopped abruptly and swallowed hard over the lump that had begun to form in her throat. She also took the opportunity to take a deep breath, Killian's hook had found its way to her waist, holding her steady, and his eyes hadn't left hers, but some of the uncertainty in them had waned. She squeezed his hand one more time, before she continued, "And then you did begin to pursue me and you made it clear you had feelings for me. So there was no way to act on that attraction, that chemistry, that pull without it having deep and lasting emotional ramifications for both of us, and that... was terrifying and complicated and something I absolutely wasn't ready for. But in the Enchanted Forest, there you were, still you in so many ways, but you without all of our baggage. It was you with no repercussions. You didn't know me; you didn't have feelings for me. So, yes, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed him. Because he was you. I got to flirt with you, without it hurting you. And nothing would have happened, he was minutes away from passing out. I would have kept him occupied until he was out cold and then met back up with you. And no, I didn't want to sleep with him, it didn't cross my mind, because the first time I'm with you, I want it to be you."

Killian looked absolutely gobsmacked. All slack jaw and slightly parted lips. He tried to swallow, but he found his mouth was dry and his heart was pounding in his chest. He had never heard Emma string so many sentences together at once; she was usually a woman of few words. The room was silent except for the wind howling outside and the fire crackling beside them. However, the way his blood was thrumming through his veins, it occurred to him that she could probably hear it from her position perched over his lap. He should say something, but when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. A man, who had survived and thrived on always having something to say, had finally been rendered speechless.

Sensing that she might have overpowered him with her unplanned and unrehearsed recital but feeling empowered after finally admitting how far back her feelings for him stretched, Emma let go of his hand and snaked her right arm around his neck. At the same time, she let her left hand slide from his cheek to his neck and then gave into temptation and traced an enticing path down and over his chest. Her nails lightly scraped across the furled hair until they hit metal. A smile curled her lips as she lightly fingered the charms that hung from his necklace and then gave them a gentle tug towards her. With only inches separating them, the new proximity only heightened the frisson of sexual energy that snapped between them.

Her eyes flicked down and she watched his tongue dart out and wet his lips. She felt the desire, the unmistakable naked desire, which she'd been trying to ignore, tamp down or banish since the day she met him, roar back to life. With a lick of her own lips, she whispered, "Does that answer your question?" before her lips crashed into his.

The instant the kiss connected them; Killian came alive. While he'd spent the last few minutes in stunned silence, listening, watching her and trying to process everything she'd said, now his body responded instinctually. His hand hit the couch behind them; reflexively trying to keep their balance, even as his hook arm pulled her tighter to him. The second Emma felt him respond, she used her position above him to change the angle and deepen the kiss.

Heat. The entire day had been about the cold, but now all she felt was heat. Delicious heat. The kind that raced like lava through her veins and ignited something primal in her soul. It was as if they were melting together, combining as one. She wanted to be closer to him, craved it. Craved him. Keeping a tight hold on his necklace with one hand, the fingers of the other slid through his hair, avoiding his earlier injury, until she gently gripped a handful of silky black strands, anchoring him to her. Their lips continued to work deliciously against one another in soft, but hungry, open-mouthed kisses, and the first time their tongues met in a warm tangle, her moan broke the silence.

The second he heard it, the pirate in him took control. With a movement only someone with great strength and dexterity could accomplish, he tightened his hook arm around her and then both scooted them down and flipped them so that a moment later Emma found herself flat on her back on the sofa, an amorous Killian on top of her.

He had broken the kiss to switch their position, but now his lips once again found hers. His tongue pillaged her mouth, fervently kissing and licking and sucking as he tried to elicit another moan from her. The lustful sound on Emma's lips only served to fuel his passion. He wanted to make her feel, to give her pleasure, he wanted for her to desire him as much as he desired her. And to him, that moan was a sign he was succeeding.

As she settled beneath him, his solid mass delightfully weighed her down. The wool blanket that had covered his shoulders slipped unceremoniously to the floor, and her arms wrapped around his bare back. She felt giddy. This was it. This was happening. They were happening. Her hands traveled over the surprisingly smooth skin of his back and she was enthralled by the way his muscles tensed and released under her touch.

Without warning, his lips left hers and instead trailed soft kisses across her cheek until he was sucking on her earlobe. And that did it. Louder than before, Emma moaned, but this time it came out in tandem with his name. His mouth instantly curved into a self-satisfied grin and he pulled back to look at her. He paused only long enough to wag his eyebrows at her suggestively, before he dove back in, his mouth finding her neck.

However, something she'd seen in the split second he'd hovered above her gave her pause. In the firelight, the flush of his cheeks had glowed brightly, maybe too bright, and there had been a light sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

"Wait," Emma gasped as Killian nipped and licked his way down her neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake that made her moan again. Somehow, most likely by a simple flick of his deft fingers, the top button of her oversized flannel pajama tops had come undone and he was pulling the collar open, pressing warm, wet kisses all along the gentle ridge of her collar bone. When a second button came loose from its hole, and Killian's mouth started trailing lower, she once again spoke her entreaty, "Wait."

This time he obeyed, and looked up at her, a question in his eyes.

"Are you sure you're up for this?" she asked breathlessly.

"Up?" As he said the word, his eyes lit up with an oddly appealing combination of amusement and desire. Once again, he wagged his eyebrows, but he also shifted his hips over hers and with deliberation pressed his arousal against her soft center.

She audibly gasped.

"Does that answer your question?" he asked in a low rumble, mimicking the last words she'd said before kissing him.

Emma fought the desire that coursed through her. Even though he'd immediately shifted his hips away from her as soon as his point was made, that brief contact had been like an electric shock that had started at her center and reverberated through every nerve ending in her body. She knew she wanted him. She knew he wanted her. And after that display of his she knew they were both aroused to the breaking point. However, she also knew it had been a very physically traumatic day for him.

Emma shifted to the outside of the cushion, making room so that he could release his weight onto the sofa instead of hovering over her.

With an expression that bordered perilously close to full on pout, he settled next to her, letting his head fall to the pillow. "What's wrong, love? Is this not what you want?"

Immediately, her hand found his cheek and she caressed it with a wide circle of her thumb. "Of course I want it, but I'm worried about you. You almost died today and just now you looked a little…"

"What? How do I appear to you?"

"You looked a little flushed and," her hand soothed across his brow, "you have a bit of perspiration on your forehead. How do you feel?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, she interrupted. He was clearly about to issue reassurances by rote and that's not what she wanted to hear. "Honestly, Killian. Tell me how you really feel."

"I'm fine. Your magic pain pills erased my headache, the medicinal soup gave me back my vigor and you in my arms healed my soul."

She smirked at him in order to hide the fact that his words made her heart pitter patter in her chest. "Good, I'm glad to hear it, but maybe we should hold off until later, another time when you're stronger, when-"

"When we're being attacked by whatever is creating this bloody storm? Or perhaps we should wait until we get sucked into another time portal, or until Regina decides to make good on whatever threat upset you last night."

"Killian…"

"No, Emma, if you're not ready then end of story, we arrest our current development, but if your solitary concern is my health then," instead of finishing his thought he looked suggestively at her.

The way he was looking at her caused a melting sensation that started in her chest, and then ran like molten liquid to her toes. She didn't answer him verbally; however, she did feel herself drifting even closer to him, her torso leaning into his as if pulled by a magnet, her bare leg shifting in between his flannel-clad ones, making it clear it was not her desire to stop. It reminded her of how they'd fit together so flawlessly earlier that afternoon, and that reminded her of why they had needed to fit together, for the body-to-body warming, and ultimately why she was concerned. Her desire was not the important thing. The important thing was that he almost just DIED. She could still see him lying cold and lifeless on the floor of the barn and the thought sent a cold stab of pain right through her. "But... are you sure... you look-"

"Love, if I look peaked, no illness is the cause. It's because of you."

"Me?" Concerned, Emma shifted back from him slightly, though there was really no place to go and stay on the couch. She propped herself on her elbow as if she might be planning to get up.

"Yes," he affirmed, however he didn't let her move away; instead he anchored his leg around her hip, just as he'd done when he woke to find her naked against him that afternoon. He snaked his hook arm around her, the metal pressing firmly, but not uncomfortably, into the excess fabric of her pajama tops gathered at her lower back. "Regardless of whatever injuries I might have sustained earlier, having the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on, on top of me, kissing me senseless, is going to cause a physical reaction."

"Is that right?" she asked in a faux serious tone and then shifted back and away from him on the narrow couch.

As he felt her slip away from him, he sagged against the back of the couch and reluctantly released her from his grip. He pressed his eyes closed, and then felt her weight shift next to him and he knew she was rising from the couch. It appeared he'd failed to convince her of his robust health. After a deep breath, and unable to keep a dejected note out of his voice, he said, "it's okay, love."

"Oh, it's going to be much better than okay, love," she mimicked cheerfully.

At her tone, he slowly opened one eye. What he saw made his other eye pop open and she immediately had his full and undivided attention. She was leaning on one elbow, smiling cheekily down at him, the black scrap of fabric that comprised her bikini underwear hanging from her index finger.

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Apparently, she had not been getting up when he'd felt her shift next to him. She had something else in mind.

"Cat got your tongue, Captain?" This time it was her turn to wag her eyebrows at him. With a flick of her wrist she flung her underwear over the couch and then she reached for his hook.

"Whaddaya doing?" he asked almost incoherently. Still not entirely believing what was happening.

"The hook has to go," she replied frankly as she began unscrewing it and then set about loosening the brace, so she could remove it as well. Second time today, she was becoming an expert. "You wearing it while we… you know… is definitely advanced difficulty. Not a good idea for our first time."

His jaw dropped as he watched her work. Once she'd removed the hook and brace, she turned away from him and carefully sat them on the raised hearth of the fireplace. When she twisted back around, she found that he was no longer looking quite so stunned. In fact, he appeared fully recovered as evidenced by the fact that the deft fingers of his right hand were swiftly flicking open the rest of the buttons on her pajama tops. As he finished, he looked up at her, his eyes dark, his expression held both hunger and a shy question, as if he was silently asking if what he'd done was okay. She now knew it was possible to look like both an eager puppy and a seductive pirate at the exact same time.

"So helpful, Killian," she murmured flirtatiously and shrugged out of the garment before flinging the yellow and blue fabric over the couch. Now wearing only her tank top, she leaned over and kissed him. A firm, wet kiss that was a promise and an answer to the question she'd seen in his eyes.

As soon as their lips met, he tugged her to him, a feeling of joy bubbling from within. She was kissing him. Emma Swan was in his arms, disrobing and kissing him. He pulled his lips from hers for a split second to change the angle and was about to go in for more, when she pulled back once again and broke the kiss.

"But two can play that game," she whispered with an almost predatory smile as she surreptitiously slipped her hand under the comforter and surprised him by tugging on the waistband of his matching crown pajama bottoms.

Killian eyes went wide and he let out a startled grunt at her bold maneuver. However, he instantly cooperated by lifted his hips so she could work on removing the offending garment. He sucked in air and closed his eyes briefly as her hand brushed his erection. However, she didn't linger; she was on a mission. Next, her fingers ignited a trail of fire down his bare legs as she pushed the fabric down his hips, past his thighs until finally she was able to pull them off completely. Almost triumphantly, she pulled the pajamas out from under the comforter and held them up a moment, pausing to wink at Killian before she flung them over the couch to join the rest of their discarded clothes. Wanting to be helpful, he reached down and peeled off the white-athletic socks he'd borrowed from David's bag and handed them to her, looking pleased with himself. She reached down and peeled off her own socks, before launching all of them in the air.

Once socks were discarded, she leaned into kiss him again. Their open mouths moved against one another with heated intensity, tongues sliding and sparring erotically, the passion that was always just under the surface when they were together igniting into a blaze in an instant. As they molded together, he fiddled with the hem of her tank top. Hands roamed everywhere. Hers sliding down his chest, around his back, over his shoulders, she wanted to touch him everywhere, to learn how he felt and where he liked to be touched. His hand found its way around her waist and under her tank top, his palm flat against the silky smooth skin of her back. He slid it between them and up under her tank top until he was cupping her breast. When he brushed over her nipple, she whimpered and he smiled against her mouth.

Without warning, she pushed back from him. For a second he blinked, feeling bereft from the loss of contact and worried he had done something wrong, until he realized she was only making space in order to rip her tank top over her head and launch it over the couch in one movement. As soon as she'd done it he grinned wickedly at her, it had been the last barrier between them. They paused a moment, both panting, eyes roaming over the other, taking their fill in a way neither had dared that afternoon.

Her gaze drifted back to his face only to find him transfixed by her breasts for the second time that day. She chuckled and reached for his chin to tilt it back upwards. "I knew when I took off my shirt; you were going to forget about me."

He met her eye and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. "Never," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire, need coursing through him. "You are so beautiful, Emma."

Emma blushed prettily, but then in a soft almost shy voice answered, "So are you."

"I know," he replied in his usual manner of cocky assurance, but a moment later his eyes drifted to his left arm and he murmured a little less confidently, "Most of me, anyway."

Emma knit her brows in confusion until she followed his gaze to where his left hand should have been. She immediately shook her head defiantly, "All of you." To punctuate her statement she reached for his left arm and brought the scarred skin of his severed forearm to her lips.

He watched her in mesmerized silence. Once again wondering if this was really happening. They were together and naked, she was pressing a kiss to his damaged skin; he knew it was her way of letting him know that she accepted all of him. If he was honest, what she thought of him and what she would think of his disfigurement once he was stripped bare of braces and hooks and fake hands and leather armor was something that had followed him, a very real fear of rejection niggling at the back of his brain periodically over the course of their relationship.

In awe, he almost didn't notice that her mouth had left the site of his injury and she was now trailing kisses up his bicep. Almost. Because of course he noticed, there was no realistic way he would ever not notice the warm, wet trail her lips were leaving against his skin. His pulsed raced and a thrill shot through him; he shivered involuntarily at the sensation.

Immediately, Emma pulled back so she could meet his gaze, concern furrowing the brow over her lust-filled eyes. Clearly, she had felt the shiver. "The cold or me?"

"All you, love." Giving her no time to respond he hooked his left arm around her torso, lifting her body weight in one fluid motion, and sweeping her under him, so she was once again lying flat on her back. Killian now hovered over her, his left elbow braced against the outer edge of the couch. She let out a sound between a shriek and a giggle at his unexpected movement and the noise inspired him to run his fingers lightly along her side, trying to get her to make the sound again. It had been so playful and carefree; he'd never heard anything quite like it from her before and he was pretty sure he would be quite content to spend the rest of his life trying to find ways to get her to make that noise again.

The tickling caused her to squirm under him, which caused her to retaliate and retaliate she did. Her fingers began to move over his side and it wasn't long before she hit a spot that both caused him to laugh and to lose his balance, weight dropping so his body was entirely pressed against her. It was much like they'd been this afternoon except for this time there was no bikini underwear or pillowcases separating them.

Killian groaned at the deliciously intimate contact as she opened her thighs and wrapped her legs around him. "This is better," she sighed as he shifted over her, his cock sliding against her center.

"Better than what?" he panted, barely restraining himself from entering her right then and there. However, he'd waited so long for this he wasn't about to ruin it by putting his own pleasure before hers.

"Than this afternoon when we were… naked… but you were out cold."

"I'm glad you prefer me conscious," he replied as he started kissing his way down her neck. "But you know you need never stand on ceremony with me."

As he moved lower, she let her head fall back to the pillow as she sank back and enjoyed his ministrations. However, somewhere in the back recesses of her mind it registered that it was still cold, so she reached down and pulled the comforter up and over his back as his lips moved lower. There was no reason they couldn't be cozy inside the covers and stay protected from the chill in the cabin. The only heat, and light, was still only coming from the fireplace and the stove.

He trailed slow kisses down to her shoulder and then across her collarbone, leaving no section of sensitive skin untended. Finally, his mouth found her breasts. He began licking, sucking and laving until Emma was moaning and writhing, her hands kneading his shoulders, but it wasn't enough. Not early enough. She ran her palms across his back and up to his shoulders. Fingering the black locks at the nape of his neck, she gently slid her fingers through his hair, and gently tugged, trying to get him to look up at her.

Flushed and panting, when she finally succeeded at getting him to look at her, she brought one hand in front of his face and made the 'come here' gesture with her index finger.

Killian smiled wolfishly at her, but shook his head in refusal. He winked at her and then his face was back between her breasts, but this time he started kissing a line down her stomach. She sucked in a breath, and for a moment Emma lost her train of thought, lost the ability to think at all, the sensation of his tongue and lips on her skin creating a haze of pleasure and anticipation.

When he buried his head between her legs, Emma moaned so loudly it was as if a siren had pierced the silence of the old farmhouse. Killian chuckled against her thigh and redoubled his efforts.

Under the spell of his talented tongue and lips and teeth, Emma felt herself winding tight, pleasure coiling and spooling in her belly and thighs. Her mind went blank as she succumbed to the pleasure, not thinking just feeling.

When she let out another moan, she startled herself back to the moment. For a second, it all felt surreal, the day felt surreal, and she wondered if this were all nothing more than an erotic dream. She managed to lift the comforter and glance down. The sight of his head between her thighs sent another jolt of pleasure through her; oh, it was real all right. He was real. She was so close, and in that moment, she wanted him more than she could remember ever wanting anything in her life.

She once again slid her fingers gently into the hair at the top of his head and tugged. When he looked up she once again curled her index finger at him. "Now," it came out in a breathless pant, but it also came out with great confidence.

"But I'm not fini-"

Cutting him off, she shook her head. "I. Need. You. Inside me. Now." Her speech was disjointed as she panted for breath, but her intent was clear. In the dim light of the room, he could see the raw desire reflected in her eyes.

With no more invitation needed, he was on top of her, his cock straining against her hip, his eyes locking with hers, both sets of pupils blown wide. Up close, he was once again awed by the desire he saw there, but that wasn't all he perceived. She was looking up at him with lust, hunger and something else... love perhaps? That thought made his heart clench tight in his chest; oh, how much his heart wanted it to be love. Even though he still lacked the confidence to presume that he'd won her heart, without a doubt, he knew the look held affection, the most tender affection. "Emma..." he said her name reverently, as if a prayer and an oath all in one.

She brought one hand up to trace the side of his face. In the firelight, his expression was open and loving and she could not believe someone was looking at her this way. No one had ever looked at her this way. Everything he felt for her was writ large across his face and the intensity was overwhelming. Swallowing roughly, she closed the inches between them and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Considering what they'd just been doing and what they were about to do it was almost comically innocent, but it was also sweet, tender, and full of promise. She squeezed her eyes shut as one tear leaked through her lids and rolled down her face.

When she leaned back, his eyes searched her face. Seeing the wet trail across her cheek, he asked, "You okay?"

She nodded and then smiled up at him. Truly and radiantly smiled and she answered his question by pushing her hips upwards against his and wrapping her legs around him. Her hands moved lower until they were gliding over his backside, with gentle pressure she squeezed his ass and urged him forward.

Killian grunted as he tried to restrain himself from ramming into her. He'd waited for this for so long, dreamed about it since the moment he'd met her, been tormented by it during their year apart and then thought this level of intimacy was out of reach once he'd found her. However, he did manage to restrain himself. Instead, he moved slowly, his cock instinctively finding the warm, wet path as he leisurely slid into her.

Emma sighed as he began to fill her, it was just as good as she'd imagined. Not that she'd fantasized about this... too much. Some. Okay, a lot, she'd fantasized about this a lot. After the earlier efforts of his talented tongue, she was already hyper-aroused, and she knew it wouldn't take much to have her tumbling over the edge.

Heat pooled in her belly once again, as the drag of his cock against her inner walls created delicious friction as he slowly entered her. She took the opportunity to savor the feel of his weight on her, savored the way the hair of his chest brushed against her erect nipples, and remembered how it had felt when that had happened mere hours ago, but they'd been in a much different situation. She couldn't enjoy it then, but she could certainly enjoy it now. With abandon, she arched her back, pressing her breasts more firmly into his chest. Now she could succumb to the pleasure. At this movement, Killian changed his angle over her, which put delicious pressure on her clit and she exploded.

Emma crashed over the edge just as Killian was fully seated in her, pleasure pulsing from her center, throbbing around his cock and rolling through her in waves. Killian gritted his teeth to keep her from pulling him over the edge with her.

Killian watched in awe as she unraveled underneath him, his cock still buried at deep as he could go. When Emma came back to earth and opened her eyes, he chuckled, waiting patiently, "I knew I was good, but I didn't realize I was that good."

Emma smiled up at him lazily. "Shut up and do it again."

"As you wish," he replied and began to move inside her. They found a rhythm almost immediately, as if they'd always been meant for this. A team through and through, as if the connection they'd forged as adversaries, then allies, and then friends and then as more translated perfectly to this primal dance as their bodies joined and became one.

TBC