A/N: Well, here it is, ladies and gentleman. The finale to this amazing Valentine's Day adventure. I hope everyone enjoys it.
"Let's make love," he heard Emma say the words strongly, confidently, absent of any inkling of doubt.
The three words he never thought he'd be blessed enough to hear. She felt so incredibly good in his arms, so right….and the fiery glimmer in her green eyes told him all he needed to know. She was ready. She wanted this.
It was almost too much for his old, weary soul to bear.
Oh, but the last thing he wanted to do was make the same petty mistake as he had with the other women in his past life. The last thing he wished to do was hurt her or expose his heart long enough to be hurt again. What if they did this….and she left, never to warm his bed again? What if they did this…and she regretted it afterwards?
It was with excruciating difficulty that he refrained from kissing her until she was breathless.
"Are you sure this is truly what you want, Emma? This isn't simply a last resort to escape the handcuffs?" Emma's eyes noticeably darkened on the heels of that insinuation. She shook her head, as if she honestly pitied his lack of confidence.
"Gold, I've barely given these handcuffs a thought today. On or off…I don't care anymore. I want this to happen. Don't make me change my mind," she said, her voice luxurious as caramel.
Undoing the perfection of his crimson tie, she peeled the collar of his shirt back, exposing the hollow of his throat. Leaning her head down, she dared to kiss that glorious spot on his chest that was always hidden by his tie. The sensation of her velvet lips against his searing-hot skin was maddening enough to make him moan and tilt his head back in bliss. She laughed against his neck, the breath tickling his skin.
Gods, his toes threatened to curl in pleasure and it was so damn hard to keep a single strain of logic in his mind. At one point, he even forgot how to breathe, suddenly gasping as the breath caught in his throat. In, out, in out….right.
When he no longer sensed her lips teasing his skin, he glanced down to find her watching him intently, her eyes wide in wonder and almost pleading. Oh, gods, that delicate mouth of hers was slightly parted and looked so kissable…
"Please," she whimpered.
The muscles of his stomach coiled painfully tight, his leg throbbed something fierce…or was that throbbing really a fault of his leg? His chest constricted until his heart beat against its cage, demanding a way out. The allure of her voice was undeniably akin to the mystical call of a siren, luring him in without a fight.
Please…The one word that would erase every ounce of willpower in his bones and bring him to his knees before her.
His hand rose to cup her chin before caressing its way to that inviting thicket of sunshine. He thought he might have whispered her name, as familiar to his tongue as his Scottish accent. It was like he was under an unbreakable spell; he was coming apart at the seams.
What the hell. It was futile to deny the truth: he wanted Emma Swan. No one else would ever suffice.
"So be it," he conceded.
In seconds, his lips connected with hers and it was like tumbling down the rabbit hole into Wonderland—forever falling, falling, falling…His thumb rubbed tantalizing circles into the nape of her neck as she kissed back eagerly. Her hand clenched a fistful of his midnight-shaded dress shirt and urged his body infinitely closer to her body, the fingers of their conjoined hands weaving together atop the rolling curve of her hip. An explosion of delicious cinnamon taunted the tip of his tongue as her lips parted wider and their kiss deepened.
What exactly did he taste like to her, he wondered? He supposed it would be strange to ask at the current moment.
Emma took it upon herself to dominate the situation and shoved her hand against his chest, guiding him backward until he bumped into the kitchen table. If he hadn't gripped Emma for support, he would have splayed across it on his back. It was then that he paused, taken aback by her blunt urgency.
Who knew Emma was such a lioness?
He pulled back at the risk of her disappointed groan to peer into her cloudy, lust-filled eyes. Her pupils were enlarged, her irises a thin green circulating band, foretelling of her immense pleasure. Her lip pursed in a small pout, her brows knitted together.
"Why'd you stop? Too straightforward?"
She started to draw back, but he swiftly caught her wrist. His thumb traced the largest vein running in a purple river just beneath her skin. Her pulse throbbed against his finger and he bent his head to lightly suck the tender spot.
"Believe it or not, dearie, I can keep up rather well. I just…I want to do this right by you," he admitted. Emma lifted an eyebrow skeptically. It occurred to him that perhaps no man had ever been quite so noble for her.
"How?"
Guiding her into his arms, he dipped his head and kissed her cheek. His lips slid across her skin until he reached the lobe of her ear. A little nip here, a little nuzzle there—enough to warrant Emma speechless, her eyelashes fluttering down to shield her eyes.
"My bed," he breathed into her ear as he continued to plant a trail of open-mouthed kisses on her neck. Her nails dug into his neck as she held his head steady. As if he was thinking about going anywhere. "But I fear…" Kiss. "…with the fire fueling between us…" Kiss. "…we would never make it up the stairs."
Their growing passion was like an active volcano—there was only so much time left before it erupted. Emma observed the kitchen over his shoulder and shrugged, her shoulder rising to meet his lips.
"It's okay. I've seen worse places than your kitchen," she excused it, her voice raw in his ear. But Gold shook his head violently and leaned backwards to view her face. His hand brushed the stray strands of blonde waves from her cheek.
"No. I refuse to let you be unsatisfied. I don't want this to be a meaningless romp on the kitchen table," he exclaimed a bit forcefully. Emma blinked in surprise. He readjusted her free arm on his neck so it was firmly wrapped around him. "Here, hold onto me. Wrap your arm around my neck…just like that….and close your eyes."
Emma humored him, keeping her arm securely draped around his neck. She buried her face into his shoulder, his scent delightfully teasing her nose. She hoped he never ran out of that cologne.
"Gold, what exactly are you—"
But before she could get the question out, he snapped his fingers over her head. All of a sudden, she felt extremely lightheaded and something misty and cool swirled around her legs. It only lasted for a second, but Emma figured she would never forget the odd sensation.
He tapped her shoulder to instruct her to open her eyes. No longer were they standing in the middle of the kitchen; he had used magic to transport them to his bedroom.
"Now…where were we?"
Emma briefly escaped from his arms in order to gaze around his bedroom with dazed eyes. She even crossed to the bed with Gold in tow and patted the sheets and pillows to be sure they were real. She'd never traveled magically before.
"Impressive," she flatly commented. Show-off, she added in her head. He apparently missed the sarcasm and grinned anyway. He pressed his hand to his chest and she imagined what kinds of thoughts whirred through his mind. Oh, stop it, Emma. You'll make me blush.
"Gets you all hot and bothered, does it?"
Emma rolled her eyes to the ceiling. Only Gold had an ego big enough to place himself on a pedestal the size of Mount Everest. Still, she failed to hide the smile as she returned to the welcoming arc of his arms.
"Guess you didn't get the memo. It's too late for that," she replied before tracing her mouth across his jaw. A delightful shudder traveled through his body. "Are you sure about this?"
Gold chuckled deep in his throat and ran his hand upwards along the lacey curve of her back. If he was not sure about this, he would not already be responding to Emma like a desperate wanderer discovering water in the midst of the Sahara Desert.
"Trust me, Emma; there's no else I'd rather get hot and sweaty with. There's no else I'd rather have…but you," he assured her, his accent thicker in the latest wave of desire rushing through his body. He could feel the blood pounding in his veins—among other places—as Emma's smile stretched.
"Good answer."
And then she kissed him again, effectively making his head spin. Together, without once breaking the kiss, they stumbled backward toward the bed. Gold pressed his hand firmly into the small of her back and guided her onto the mattress. He half-straddled her waist, his knee sliding between her legs, and nuzzled her neck.
Emma's loose hand spread across the silk sheets, occasionally rumpling them in her fingers as her muscles succumbed to spasms. Her fingertips brushed something soft and light. Craning her head to the side, she picked up something from the bed and examined it.
How typical.
"Rose petals? Really?"
There were dozens of them in all sorts of colors—red, pink, white petals scattered over the bed. Gold lifted his head, a shy smile hovering on his lips. He hardly looked like the fierce being that beat people with canes when he cast his gaze down like that. He flicked a few of the stray petals away from the spools of her blonde hair.
"I wanted this night to be perfect. I did not want you to regret a second of it," he admitted almost in defense of his actions.
Emma plucked a petal from her hair, swirling it around in her fingers. She never had someone sprinkle petals on a bed for her. It was…sweet. In a cheesy, romantic comedy sort of way.
"Never knew you were such a romantic at heart," she teased.
There was that adorable blush again. She chewed on her bottom lip to stifle the giggle bubbling in her throat. Gold nipped the hollow of her throat and sighed upon feeling the fluttering heartbeat underneath.
"There's a lot you don't know about me," he hinted as he drew up on his haunches. The restriction of the handcuffs forced him to angle his body a certain way, but still he was able to vastly drink in the sight of Emma lying in wait for him. And she let him look. "For instance, I wouldn't be much of a romantic lover if I only gave you rose petals. There shall be candles, too. Vanilla cupcake scented."
With a wave of his hand, dozens of cream-colored candles of all sizes appeared on the furniture—on the bedside table, the dresser, the floor, everywhere. The glow of the flickering flames illuminated the room, casting inky shadows on the wall. Only three candles on the bedside table remained unlit. Holding her gaze, Gold pinched each of the wicks and immediately the wicks caught fire.
Afterwards, Gold smacked his fingertips to his lips, as if to say voila! Emma inhaled the increasing aroma of vanilla. She should have expected scented candles on his romantic checklist.
"I'm surprised you don't have a hidden radio under the bed playing sappy love music. Here I figured you'd be subtle enough to play 'Let's Get It On'," Emma remarked as Gold sank into her arms again.
He was content with tasting every inch of her body before he allowed her to please his. He knew that, if he did surrender to her tantalizing touch, he would be far too greedy and selfish in his pleasure. With ease, he encouraged her loose arm to slip out of the strap of her dress. He began to do the same with the other one, but cursed when the handcuffs got in the way. He pulled his head back from Emma's tresses and scowled at her dress.
Why did he ignore his instincts and not go strapless?
"Damn these infernal contraptions," he growled, whisking the strap away with magic.
Emma busied herself with undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and pushing it over his shoulders. A few of the buttons popped off and rolled across the floor. Once his chest was exposed, she was helpless to run her hand over his taut skin, the muscles contracting and rippling in response to her touch.
They were not in any hurry despite the magnificent fire burning viciously between their bodies. Slowly, they did away with their clothes, their forms writhing atop the bed to accommodate the handcuffs. Gold's palms slid across Emma's hips as he helped her shimmy out of the red velvet dress once and for all.
It was difficult not to admire Emma once she was completely unsheathed and fully exposed to him. The enchanting glow of the candles bathed her skin in a rich golden hue, with only a hint of pink pooling in her cheeks. A low moan escaped his lips.
"Sweetheart, do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" Heartbreakingly beautiful, in his opinion.
It stirred something inside him, made worse by the inviting smile on her lips. It was a half-smile borne of relief and gratitude, as though no one had ever really informed her of that truth. He couldn't fathom why. If he had Emma by his side, he would whisper that truth in her ear every night.
Ever so tenderly, he kissed her lips again, pouring forth every aspect of his emotions while savoring her delectable taste. She lightly sucked on his bottom lip, eliciting another groan that seemed to spring up from his toes. Her legs readily embraced his waist—the volcano finally exploded.
They came together so perfectly, two pieces of the puzzle fitting together. Emma clung to his rigid back, the muscles thriving rapidly beneath her palms. Her head tossed backward, offering her throat to his mouth, her back arching off the bed to meet him halfway. His nails hooked into the sheets, nearly tearing them as he buried himself in Emma. Slipping his arm under her waist, he held her flush against his body. Never had he heard sweeter cries in his ear.
There was no other feeling like it in any of the realms he walked among. This was heaven.
After what must have been hours of love-making, Gold finally collapsed atop Emma's chest, the rhythm of her pounding heart his personal lullaby. Her fingers weaved through his hair, sweeping it off his forehead. Sweat drenched their bodies, their muscles aching though neither complained. They were happy enough to breathe and relax in each other's presence.
"That…was…" Emma's husky voice trailed off into the silence, her exhausted mind blindly searching for the proper word. His ears strained in anticipation of her response. "Perfect."
He grinned victoriously against her chest. Ooh, his leg would be in a sorry state tomorrow from having driven his body so hard…but it was well worth the suffering. He stretched his legs and arms to rid of the remaining tension.
That was precisely when it hit him. His eyes shot open wide, a sudden bolt of realization striking him in the dark.
"Hey," he breathily commanded Emma's attention.
She curiously tilted her head to catch his eye, her own green orbs glazed from her simmering passion. She gasped. In his hand was the pair of enchanted handcuffs, the chain dangling from the tip of his finger. Emma instinctively lifted her wrist and rubbed it in amazement. No cuff. No imprisonment. Only a light red mark gave any notice of their predicament.
"We're free," he whispered, throwing the measly handcuffs on the bedside table next to the candles. Emma reclined her head on the sheets and massaged the stiffness from her wrist.
Finally.
And yet…
"No," she negatively countered. His brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes flicking between her face and the handcuffs that currently held no prisoners. "We may be free of the handcuffs, but it doesn't mean we're free of each other. The handcuffs were always the tip of the iceberg. Gold…I'm bound to you."
Gold stroked his knuckle along the rosy apple of her cheek. This was more than he ever dared hope for from Emma, after all was said and done. Bound…It sounded so promising, so official, so ultimate. It radiated with a power of its own, like true love.
"You don't have to be," he told her gently. Emma gave him a flippant look that questioned his sanity.
"I know I don't have to be. I want to be. There's a difference," she insisted, brushing a few strands of dusty brown hair from his eyes. It was one of the characteristics she admittedly treasured in Gold: those impossibly rich brown eyes that made her feel like she was tumbling headfirst into a pool of chocolate fudge. Suitable for the man with the biggest sweet tooth in town.
He started to protest her decision, but she cut him off with a finger to his lips.
"The heart wants what it wants, right?"
He kissed the tip of her finger as it traced the curve of his lips. Then he changed his mind and sucked it wholly into his mouth, his tongue curling around the digit and giving her another reason to mew with want. That tongue of his worked in mysterious ways, indeed.
When he pulled away, his eyes became speckled with sadness and seriousness. His hair fell around his angled face, acting as a curtain that prevented her from peering closer.
"I once told you…I'm a difficult man to love, dearie." It was one year ago, as a matter of fact. As with that moment, Emma hardly batted an eyelash. Perhaps she took it as a challenge, to which she planned to conquer valiantly.
"I remember," she assured him, shrugging carelessly. Her arms freely entwined around his neck, urging his head down to hers. "And you were wrong. Let's do it again."
That was the only incentive he needed. Their lips brushed, not entirely kissing yet. Emma's lips parted for him and he was about to delve inside….
All of a sudden, Emma's eyes shot open wide. Her legs squeezed together, blocking him from entering. A forceful hand shoved against his chest, causing him to topple backward on the sheets while she lunged to her feet. At first, he assumed common sense had caught up with her and that this was a cruel rejection. That was until he heard Emma's incessant cries as she raced from the room, doing funny hops around the candles.
"Gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee—"
The bathroom door slammed behind her, the impact echoing throughout the otherwise silent house. He let out a sigh of relief as he realized that was the only cause of her sudden departure. She had about three days' worth to release.
Oh, right. He forgot about the repercussions of the 'no-pee' spell. It was a good thing he had learned through trial and error to train his bladder years ago in this matter. Stretching out atop the pillows and sheets, he retrieved his copy of The Hunger Games and settled back to read. Emma was going to be awhile.
Tsk-tsk-tsk. "Regina could learn a thing or two from this Clove girl."
….
Emma took over half an hour in the bathroom. She returned to bed with her knees weak and her hand rubbing across her belly in vast relief. After that…they were right back on track. He didn't even care that he lost his place in his book as she practically jumped on top of him and whipped it from his hands.
They made love a second time. And a third.
Instead of waning, their passion only seemed to spike after each round. Sometimes, Gold naturally took control of their love-making, pleasuring Emma until she screamed his name. His true name. The raw wanton sound of it only inspired him to carry on harder than ever before.
But he quickly learned that Emma had a knack for dominating, too.
Occasionally, she would abruptly encourage him to flip on his back and she would willingly take the reins. The wave of mind-numbing ecstasy was so powerful as she explored his body and the ways to make him moan that he was surprised his brain hadn't exploded at the height of their adventures in bed.
Time was lost to them, completely meaningless. All that mattered was the sanctuary they had built within each other's arms.
This time, Emma panted heavily as Gold rested his head in the junction of her shoulder and neck. Beneath the twisted black sheets, his thigh caressed her hip. Shifting her body around, she laid her golden head on his chest, his hand stroking her bare back.
"You really are…amazing," she breathed in awe. The best she ever had, probably. "That's it. You've won the title of Scottish Prince in bed." Her fingertips traced over his abdomen, memorizing every curve and inch of flesh. He lightly squeezed her thigh in his excitement. He shivered with delight.
"Ooh, I like that. Scottish Prince…I suppose it does hold a ring of truth to it, doesn't it?" Emma bet he relished the title. Ate it right up, as was the case with his ego. His lips danced over the crown of her head. "However, if I'm to be your Scottish Prince, then that means you shall be my one and only Swan Princess."
Cupping her chin, he captured her red mouth in a long, hard kiss. Emma gladly returned it, if only to satisfy him before sinking her head onto his chest again. His fingers threaded through the locks of her hair. A tolerable rush of desire pooled in her belly as the scent of his skin tickled her nose—the struck match hovering above the river of gasoline.
She'd never ached so wonderfully in all her life.
"Wonder how many times we can go before our bodies give up?"
Emma inclined her head to peer up at his face. A wicked gleam settled over his dark irises and it was easy for Emma to decode its meaning. Nudging her side with his knee, she rolled over and he carefully climbed on top of her. He started slow, planning kisses on her shoulders and working his way down.
"I say we test that theory," he declared, his mouth traveling below her neck. Much to Emma's chagrin, he lifted his head away to gaze down at her thoughtfully. "Of course, there is still the matter of Henry's involvement in this week's events."
The mention of Henry tethered her to reality.
"There's no question. He's grounded until he's twenty-eight and so help anyone who buys him a magic kit for Christmas again," she proclaimed. The knitting of her brows suggested she was serious. There went his idea of buying Henry that special Criss Angel magic kit he'd been asking for all year.
Emma urged him to continue with what he'd been doing. Even from this angle, Emma didn't miss the way Gold's brown eyes rolled in their sockets.
"Easy for you to say. I owe him a favor."
…..
The clock ticked toward midnight and the town of Storybrooke fell into a peaceful slumber. While other people slept on in their beds, Emma and Gold were wide awake and basking in each other's comfort. In earlier hours, they had resorted to talking, inevitably opening up to each other in ways they never had prior to this night.
Gold told her about his life before the Dark One curse—her response to Milah being what a bitch—and she reciprocated by telling him exactly how it was during her childhood and growing up alone. As he recounted the memories of his son and how he lost him, she described her brief happiness with this odd thief named Neal who ended up breaking her heart. He described the sprawling beauty of his beloved Dark Castle, divulged his affinity for leather pants, spoke of some of his stranger deals. She painted him a picture of Cinderella's castle in Disney World even though she'd never been, her secret wish to learn horseback riding, the origins of the delicate tattoo embroidering her wrist.
They hung on every spoken word whilst valuing those unspoken, both attentive as though each syllable was to be their last.
Now, they retreated into comfortable silence, their throats positively raw from screaming and talking. They found other means of communication. Emma would have to send a thank-you along to Red, at least.
A glass bowl nestled between their bodies, overflowing with multi-colored Sweethearts. The candy hearts had always been Gold's way of indulging in Valentine's Day, even if he didn't publicly celebrate it. Their limbs playfully entangled together under the sheets, their feet exploring their thighs and ankles. Every now and then, one would offer a candy heart to the other, always bearing a special message.
Gold's elegant hand sifted through the bowl of hearts in search of the right one. Emma waited patiently, her body lounging against the steady arm that wrapped around her shoulders. She tried to guess which one he would pick.
The pink one with XOXO? The yellow one with Be Mine? No, we've passed that line. The purple one with…Marry Me? Okay, maybe that's a little too fast. And I don't think that's exactly what Charming's blessing entailed…
Finally, his fingers closed around a single heart. He held it up for her to see. It was a white one with two pink words. My Girl. She examined the heart and then his face. His eyebrows were raised speculatively and she understood that he was asking her.
In answer, Emma boldly enclosed her lips around the heart and his fingers. He released the candy heart to her demanding tongue, but still it was a minute before his fingers slipped from her mouth. There was a tiny crunch as Emma bit the heart in half. Whereas Gold liked to savor the candy for minutes at a time, the temptation was too great to avoid biting instantly.
It was her turn.
She peeked into the bowl and shuffled the hearts around. He watched her intently, probably playing the same guessing game she had done moments ago. Part of her wanted to hold up the heart that said Marry Me just to see how he would react. Would he tumble off the bed in surprise? Have a heart attack? Or rush right out of this house and wake everyone in town to find a suitable ring?
Instead, she snatched up a candy heart and pressed it into his palm before he could read it. He uncurled his fingers. The heart said Kiss Me.
Gold popped the Sweetheart into his mouth. A second later, he leaned forward and kissed Emma, both vying for the sweetness of the candy heart between them. Emma grasped it between her teeth and bit down on it, severing it in two. One piece for her and one piece for him.
Once the heart had been devoured, Gold kissed her again. This one was different—softer, not tainted by lustful urgency but flowering with hope and promise. It was the kind of kiss princesses earned from their princes in fairy tales. Emma would never forget it.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Emma," he whispered in the shell of her ear a minute before the clock struck twelve. She snuggled in the warmth of his embrace, a genuine smile widening on her face. Something told her this was only the start of their adventure.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Gold."
…..
By the way, I got the inspiration of Gold's title of Scottish Prince from BundyShoes. I couldn't resist throwing it in.
A fabulous thank-you goes out to DaesGatling, Huntress4455, DragonRose4, sbcarri, cat4444, dataworf, Newland Archer, discotimelord, Guest, celestria06, Guest, Wandz, The Auburn Girl, la-stella-immortale, SwanQueen4055, eleanorsmom, Onceuponatimesupporter, Guest, PrincessofSea, AngelofDarkness1605, ParanormalMoonlight, Black Heart, and KatieMarrie. Thank you all for the awesome reviews and I hope you all enjoyed reading the story! One more day until Once returns, too.