A/N: So, I'm back at school and things have been really hectic. There's only one more chapter (which is partially written) and the epilogue left after this and I'm gonna try to get those finished and posted as soon as possible. However, I'm about to come upon my first wave of midterms, so I won't make any promises.

I have a feeling you guys will like this chapter. Please let me know what you think!


Emma exits her apartment in a hurry to meet Mary Margaret and David downstairs, smoothing down her dress as she goes. She feels a little bit overdressed in the black lace over smoke chiffon gown, but to be fair, dressing up is not her specialty. She figures it's a pretty safe bet to trust her Regina-chosen stylist to dress her appropriately for her manager's wedding. Besides, it's not like she has had any time to go shopping lately. Since her album release over a month ago, Emma hasn't spent more than three nights in a row sleeping in her own bed. She spent nearly the entire second half of November touring the U.S., doing interviews and promotional shoots for the album, followed by a similar process in Europe and Australia. Then, she'd taken Mary Margaret and David to Bora Bora for a week as their Christmas present. It had felt so good to lie in the sun and go swimming all day with her family without a camera in sight. Emma has felt incredibly indebted to her brother and sister-in-law for all of their support the past few years—financially, mentally, and otherwise—as she has made her journey from homeless orphan to RIAA certified gold recording artist. It is a bit of a relief to be able to repay them in some way, now that she actually has some money to her name.

Emma steps out the door to her building and out on to the curb where Mary Margaret and David are waiting in a car. She smiles at them through the open car window as the driver steps forward to take her bag. "Thank you," she says, pressing a tip into his hand before she climbs into the car. The ceremony doesn't start for another two hours, but they're planning on checking into their hotel and dropping off their bags before the wedding, so they don't have to come all the way back to Brooklyn and pick up their stuff before the reception and check in then.

"Emma, sweetheart, you look beautiful," Mary Margaret greets her, pulling her into a tight hug despite the general lack of space in the backseat of the vehicle (and the fact they saw each other not five days ago).

"Thanks, you guys look pretty nice, yourselves." Her brother is dressed in a light grey suit over a crisp white shirt while Mary Margaret dons a long, fitted red dress that perfectly matches the shade of her lipstick.

After quickly checking in to The Plaza and dropping their bags off in their rooms, Emma, David and Mary Margaret walk to St. Patrick's Cathedral. As far as winter weddings go, Regina got the perfect weather (Emma wouldn't be surprised if the woman had cast some sort of spell to assure this was the case). It's about twenty degrees and partly sunny, the snow from the previous night lightly coating the sidewalks.

They arrive at the cathedral forty minutes before the ceremony starts. As they walk in, Emma gasps at the grandeur of the interior. She can't help but wonder how Regina managed to secure one of the most famous cathedrals in the country for her wedding. Due to the high ceilings, intricate marble columns, and ornate stain glass windows, the wedding decorations are not abundant; elegant white and lavender tulle are draped across the backs and sides of the pews, adorned with bundles of gorgeous light purple peonies. The altar is covered with clusters of peonies as well as candles of assorted sizes, casting a glow right behind the spot where Regina and Robin will say their vows. The overall effect makes the cathedral look ethereal and heavenly.

Emma's got to hand it to the woman; she knows how to plan an event. Though she supposes it would be more accurate to say she knows who to hire to plan an event. Regardless, her manager has impeccable taste.

Mary Margaret gasps quietly as she takes in the scenery around them. "This is incredible," she whispers in Emma's ear. She nods in response. Something about the whole venue makes her feel as if she shouldn't speak—the space is too sacred and special to interrupt with idle chatter.

They sign the guest book in the back of their church upon their arrival and are greeted by some people Emma assumes are members of either Regina's or Robin's extended family. They take their programs (which have actual flowers pressed in the pages) and are ushered to their seats near the front of the church. Emma knows the scale of the wedding is huge, judging by what she has heard from Regina in passing and the size of the cathedral and reception venue, and she figures the red-clad woman in front of her is to thank for their prime seating location. Mary Margaret and Regina have been family friends forever, so it makes sense that she would be seated near Regina's extended family.

About twenty minutes before the ceremony starts, the ambient music from the string quartet is joined by soft gorgeous harmonies emanating from the choir section overhead. Emma's pretty sure this is exactly what she pictured heaven to be like, between the soft, clear voices, perfectly balanced strings, the light aroma of flowers and flickering glow of candles. The cathedral is full of people, and Emma finally understands the need for the towering, intimidating man standing guard at the door—the large number of celebrity guests present guarantees paparazzi are likely trying to sneak in to get shots of the array of singers, actors, philanthropists, and politicians.

Gradually, the wedding party members make their way into the cathedral. Emma doesn't even notice at first as the groom and the priest step up to the altar; the former looks like he's trying hard not to smile and the latter somber. She can see the excitement in his eyes and it makes her heart squeeze. After her past relationship failures, she had promised herself to focus on her career and not get dragged into worrying about romance. Judging by the success of her debut album, it worked. But there's something magical about the heavenly scenery and the thrilled adoration on her publicist's face that makes her long for a day like this.

And she doesn't have any particular groom in mind, absolutely not. That would be ridiculous.

The string quartet fades out and the cathedral's organ begins booming Pachelbel's Canon in D, signaling the wedding guests to turn expectantly towards the back of the church. Regina's maid of honor, her older sister Zelena, makes her way down the aisle solo—according to the program, the best man is escorting the bride down the aisle. It may be a bit unconventional, but considering the person fulfilling both roles is Regina's son, Henry, Emma thinks it is a sweet gesture.

The remaining members of the wedding party follow closely behind Zelena. The tuxedo clad men and women wrapped in purple silk look elegant, not that Emma would have expected anything less.

When the second couple in line behind the maid of honor falls in her line of sight, her breath catches a little bit in her throat.


x


Killian almost trips when his eyes lock on Emma Swan.

It's nearly maddening how the lass manages to outshine every person in the bloody cathedral with her radiant beauty without even trying. He's almost surprised Regina allowed the woman to attend—she's all about making sure she is the center of attention today (albeit, a very reasonable demand of a bride on her wedding day) and Killian can't imagine she looks anything like the angel in the dark grey dress ahead of him.

Though, he supposes the white dress will likely draw the eyes of everyone (except perhaps him).

He focuses on the couple in front of him, figuring falling on his face in front of hundreds of people is not how he would like to spend the day. The woman on his arm named Cruella tightens her grip on him just a bit, attracting his attention. "Someone special in the audience?" she murmurs conspiratorially in his ear.

Was he really being that obvious? He feels his ears heat up and suppresses the urge to scratch behind one of them. "Aye."

She straightens a bit and raises one well-defined eyebrow. "Well, best make a good impression, dahling," she croons. "Weddings are famous for their ability to rid even a lady of her inhibitions."

He tries not to elbow her in the side.

Although he'd like nothing more than to appear nonchalant in the moment, Killian fails to stop himself from glancing in Emma's direction as he nears her seat. Her eyes are on him with eyebrows lifted a bit, looking at him with what seems to be appreciation. (He tries not to smirk; he knows he looks devilishly handsome today, but now is probably not the most appropriate time to acknowledge the fact) He allows himself to smile at her, his grin widening when the corners of her lips tick up as well. They keep eye contact for a few seconds until he passes her and continues up on to the altar, taking his place beside Robin's mate John.

The last groomsman and bridesmaid follow into place before a pair of tiny children come tumbling down the aisle. Killian's face breaks into a grin at the sight of Robin's young son Roland and the flower girl Alexandra marching through the church at a speed much quicker than they'd been instructed at the rehearsal the previous night. Alexandra tosses some flower petals high in the air every few feet, managing to land some in the patrons' hair. He hears a few chuckles echo through the space when that happens. The rascals join the party at the altar and Killian sticks his tongue out as Roland looks at him, causing the boy to make a funny face in response.

The tune playing over the organ changes to something he doesn't recognize, and he's grateful that Regina managed to avoid the ever-overplayed "Here Comes the Bride" tune. The bride makes her grand debut, stepping onto the aisle on the arm of her lad. She looks confident and beautiful as hundreds of people stand in her honor. He glances at his mate's face and smiles when he sees Robin is sporting not only a face-splitting grin, but also an eye full of tears. When he glances back to Regina, his eyes land on Emma again. The bright smile on her face as she looks at the bride makes him wish for nothing other than to be the cause of her joy for the rest of his days.

He stops that dangerous train of thought quickly, resuming his respectful admiration of the bride in her regal glory. Weddings are nothing but trouble for a man in his situation.

"Who gives this woman to this man?" the priest asks in a booming, yet not intimidating voice.

"I do," her son says with a smile. Regina pulls him into a fierce hug and Killian smiles as the lad buries his face in his mother's shoulder, then gets pulled into a hug by Robin himself as he takes his place as best man.

The ceremony is beautiful, but a little unsettling for Killian, as it drags up childhood memories of getting scrubbed clean early on Sunday mornings, dressing in uncomfortable clothes, and piling in his parents' station wagon to head to their old, little church week after week. He thinks back to his mother's smiling, bright blue eyes and her unruly red curls and feels a pang in his heart. He has always felt like he has nothing to remember her by, save the couple of faded photographs in his living room, his dimples, and the ginger tint in his beard that becomes especially noticeable during the summer. Liam had gotten her spirit, her curls, and her smile, as well as ten more years with her.

He flexes his jaw and schools his face into a less haunted expression, mentally rejoining the ceremony. Fortunately, he's spent enough time in the Catholic Church that he knows what to say and do throughout the mass without following along too closely. He imagines otherwise he would make a fool out of himself.

When it is time for the wedding party to rejoin the bride and groom at the altar for the end of the ceremony, Killian's eyes close in on Emma once again (no surprise there). Her smile is beautiful as she watches Regina and Robin vow to have and to hold, in sickness and in health. Killian sees her brother try to inconspicuously wipe a stray tear from his eye before he smirks and returns his gaze to the happy couple.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest proclaims. "You may kiss the bride."

Killian doesn't think he's ever seen Regina smile as freely as she does the split second between the officiant's final words and Robin's lips crashing against hers. He joins everyone in applauding the happy couple before the music resumes and the wedding party begins the processional to the back of the church. Once again, he catches Emma's eye and winks as he passes, her bright smile in his direction making his heart leap.


x


The first hour of the reception is boring, if Emma is being blunt. Guests are milling about, chatting and finding their seats at the tables set up around the hotel ballroom and grabbing hors d'oeuvres from tuxedoed waiters. Mary Margaret and David spend the time catching up with Mary Margaret's parents as well as old friends who grew up with her and Regina. Emma has been in a very contemplative mood since the wedding. She's spent the idle time since the end of the ceremony taking in the ornate details of the ballroom and frowning at her dwindling glass of red wine, doing a good job of avoiding the other guests.

Emma has a choice to make. She knows what she wants and she thinks she knows what Killian wants, but it doesn't do much to assuage her fears. After a life of abandonment and loneliness, she has put a lot of effort into protecting herself from people who could hurt her. Hell, it took her years to put her full trust in her brother and his wife, even after everything they did to help her get on her feet and get her career started. Ruby has tried to tell Emma a hundred times to just take a leap of faith and tell Killian she cares about him, but that's much easier said than done. Especially when the only two men Emma really has cared about left her in the ways that Neal and Graham did.

On top of all that, there's her new relationship with the paparazzi. She's seen the headlines magazines print about celebrity couples, and they're mostly not good. Granted, Killian isn't exactly someone that is already in the news, so it wouldn't be as bad as it is for couples in that situation. During every conversation she's had with Ruby or Mary Margaret for the past month, the women have been urging her to let go of her fears and go for it. She's starting to think maybe she should listen. After all, while on her nonstop album promotion tour, she missed him like crazy. Somehow, against her will, this man has found himself a space in her heart and doesn't seem to be going anywhere.

She's pulled from her thoughts by the DJ announcing the wedding party has arrived. Emma chews on her lip in anticipation of seeing Killian again. Even though she was away from the city for so long, they had still talked pretty frequently, mainly via texting and email. She is finally admitting that misses him—at least to herself, anyway. She misses their movie nights, his stupid jokes, his kind, understanding eyes, the way his warm scent lingers on her throw blankets after he leaves, and even the solidness of his chest against her cheek on the event they fall asleep watching movies. She misses him and she wants him. The only thing standing between the two of them being together is herself.

Loud music plays as the groomsmen and bridesmaids make their way into the ballroom, dancing goofily and, if Emma's not mistaken, a bit drunkenly. When Killian enters the ballroom, it's with a goofy grin on his alcohol-flushed face, his shirt rumpled and untucked, tie loosened, and sleeves pushed up to his elbows. Emma gulps down the rest of her drink before catching the attention of a waiter to grab her another Pinot Noir.

Mary Margaret and David rejoin her at their table as she tips her new glass of wine back a little quickly. "Woah, kid, way to get the party started without us," David says with a teasing grin at her new but already half-empty glass. She stops herself from making a comment about needing a little liquid courage. She would rather not have a conversation with her brother tonight is about her feelings for her former one night stand.

"Gotta do something to keep myself entertained while the two of you gallivant around," she says in mock defense.

"Emma, darling, come here!" Mary Margaret's mother Eva (who seems to have gotten head start on the wine along with her) says, opening her arms up. Emma stands and hugs the woman, smiling at the tight embrace. "It's so good to see you again," she says genuinely. "I've spent the last month bragging to all the women at the club how The Emma Swan is part of my family. They may be getting a bit tired of it, but that's their own problem," she says with a smile.

Emma tries not to let her eyes betray the sudden emotions Eva's comment drags up. Hearing that her sister-in-law's mother considers her family after how she grew up makes her want to cry. Never could she have imagined having so many people who support her and so much success even six years ago. "Thank you, Eva," she says, touched. She hopes the woman can see how grateful she really is, despite her few words.

"It's no problem, dear," she says, patting Emma on the shoulder affectionately as she sits down. "When do you start your tour? You'll have to give me a heads up when you'll be nearby—I would love to see you in concert."

"Mom, don't worry, I'll get you a ticket to go with David and I when she's in New York," Mary Margaret assures her, winking at Emma.

"Regina is still in the process of planning out my tour schedule, so I'm not sure exactly when everything will be," Emma tells Eva. "And since she's gonna be on her honeymoon for the next two weeks, it'll be awhile before I know for sure."

"You think Regina is going to go without working for two weeks? I'm afraid you haven't known her as long as I have," Eva says with a laugh.

She smiles. "I told her I would find a new manager if she doesn't take a couple weeks off to enjoy herself. Empty threat, and I'm sure she knows that, but still. She deserves to actually enjoy her honeymoon. Robin has other people in his office handling his cases while he's gone. I told Regina I'll contact her if there's an emergency, but otherwise she should just enjoy the Hawaiian sun and not stress out about work. Hopefully she listens, but…" she trails off, shrugging.

Emma decides to find Killian, hoping get a chance to talk to him before the speeches and dinner starts. She glances over to the head table where Killian should be sitting but finds his spot empty, shortly before spotting him standing with a short, beautiful woman with blonde curly hair, laughing at something she said. Her heart sinks as she watches how he doesn't recoil at all when the woman playfully swats him in the chest, smirking at her response to whatever he's just said. Of course the exact moment she decides she is ready and tries to muster up the courage to tell him so, he's already moving on. His glances towards her during the ceremony seemed to prove otherwise, but she sees the woman return to her spot at the table reserved for the wedding party's dates, and Killian hasn't even tried to come talk to her even though he hasn't seen her in weeks. She bites the inside of her cheek and finishes off her glass of wine. At least I might get a decent song out of this, she thinks bitterly.

Emma spends dinner trying to hide her brooding and pace herself when it comes to the wine one of the bartenders seems to know she needs immediately after finishing a glass. She needs to keep herself together a bit, at least while she's within range of the cameras parked around the room. After the reception finishes she can always go up to her room, order some room service wine, and drink 'till she passes out. But for now, to avoid explaining the situation to her family or worse—going and telling Killian off to his face—she needs to keep her wits about her.

She's not surprised to find Killian dancing with his date once the party has moved to the dance floor. She's sitting sideways in her chair, watching all the people—mainly couples dance and laugh and enjoy themselves while she is drinking alone at her table. God she's pathetic.

As the song changes, Mary Margaret comes to the table, grabs Emma's hand and tugs her towards the dance floor. "I know you'd rather sit here and brood about whatever it is that's bothering you, but I won't allow it," she says, right as Emma is about to protest joining them on the dance floor. "I won't make you talk about it here, but you need a distraction and I'm not taking no for an answer."

Emma smiles and follows Mary Margaret into the crowd and loses herself in the music, laughing at her brother's aggressive dancing. Regina's son Henry comes over and introduces himself after she's been on the dance floor a few minutes.

"Hi, Henry, it's very nice to meet you. Your mother has had nothing but good things to say about you," she greets the boy with a smile.

"She likes you too, I think. At least, she never seems as stressed out after your events as she does beforehand, so you must not be screwing up too much." Emma laughs, surprised at how outgoing her reserved manager's son is. "Anyway, I won't stay in your hair for too long, Mom said I'm not supposed to distract the guests, but I just wanted to meet you and tell you I really like your music. I had Mom get me my own copy," he says proudly.

Emma pulls the boy into a hug because maybe she's a little tipsy and a little emotional. "Thank you, Henry. You're not bothering me at all. Tell your mom she needs to give you a break," she says with a wink. "Once my tour gets started, you are more than welcome to bring some friends and come hang out backstage."

His face lights up. "Thanks, Emma! That would be amazing."

She smiles as the boy turns around, practically skipping off towards his mother, no doubt to tell her what Emma just said.

A few minutes after Henry leaves her to continue dancing with Mary Margaret and David, she hears the familiar introductory lines of Single Ladies start to play. She groans, knowing exactly what that song means, and gathers with the other women for the bouquet toss. Thankfully, it lands nowhere near her, so she doesn't have to pretend to try and reach for it while simultaneously actually not wanting to grab the thing at all. The red headed woman who catches it is wearing a sparkling ring on her left hand and laughs, immediately running towards the man Emma assumes is her fiancé and tackling him in a hug.

After the necessary cliché group activities have been completed, Emma goes to the bar to grab her and David a refill on their drinks. When the young man tending the bar hands her their glasses, she says her thanks and drops a few dollars in the tip jar. She turns around to rejoin her family and walks straight into someone, just barely managing to avoid spilling her drink on her dress (thank God).

"I'm so sorry, lass, I wasn't paying attention to where I was—Emma?" Killian says, noticing exactly who he's run into.

"Hi," she says lamely.

He pulls her into a quick hug. "It's good to see you, love. I've wanted to come talk to you all night, but I didn't want to interrupt you and your friends."

"Really?" she asks, thinking of him dancing with his date.

"Of course, I have barely talked to you since your album came out. I've missed you, Swan." He tilts his head to the side, looking at her with that small smile that makes her knees weak.

Before she has a chance to respond, his date joins them, sliding her arm through his. "Gonna introduce me to your friend, Killian?" the woman says teasingly.

Emma flushes in embarrassment and, if she's being honest with herself, jealousy at the question. She really doesn't want to have this conversation.

"Erm, this is Emma Swan, Emma, this is my sister-in-law, Nicole," he says, scratching behind his ear. The tension that was in Emma's shoulders relaxes completely. She's an idiot. Of course he brought his sister-in-law. She knows they're close.

The woman smiles and sticks her hand out to shake Emma's. "You can call me Tink, Killian knows no one calls me that," she says with an eye roll. "It's so great to finally meet you, Emma. This one has told me lots about you."

Emma glances over to find Killian looking awfully betrayed and glaring at the other woman. She laughs. "Really? Like what?"

"Alright, it was good talking to you, Tink, see you later!" he says, dismissing her before she has a chance to tell Emma anything else.

Emma laughs freely at his obvious embarrassment and he turns his glare on her, though the corner of his lips twitch as he tries not to smile. "So you've been talking about me?" she asks, stepping a little into his space.

He wets his lips momentarily. "Not sure what you want me to say, love. That woman has known me since I was ten. She knows who you are and that we're friends."

"Mmhm," Emma hums in disbelief, "sounds like that's definitely all she knows."

His jaw flexes as he clenches his teeth and she giggles, elbowing him in the arm. "Come on, no need to get all broody, Jones. I'm just teasing."

He huffs resignedly, running a hand through his hair and mussing it up in the process. "Between you and that woman I get teased plenty," he groans.

She laughs again and tells him to wait a moment before she walks over to drop off David's and her drinks without a word, leaving before her brother has a chance to interrogate her. As she rejoins Killian near the bar, the music changes to something pretty and slow. "Wanna dance?" she asks him hesitantly.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at her question but he nods, holding out his elbow. She smiles and wraps her arm through his as they make their way to the dance floor. She laces her fingers together behind his neck and rests her arms on his shoulders as he tentatively places his hands on her hips. They move in silence for a couple of minutes, and Emma gradually lets herself lean into his chest, inhaling the comfortingly familiar scent of his cologne.

"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised you invited me to dance," Killian says quietly.

"And why is that?" She asks without lifting her head from his shoulder.

"Well, you have been a bit hesitant to be seen together in public."

She pulls back to look him in the eye so he doesn't mistake her next words. "Maybe I don't care about that anymore."

Surprise registers on his face and he nods, swallowing briefly as they continue dancing.

Emma's heart races as she leans back into his chest. She's terrified of this, of him, but she also wants this so bad it hurts, and she can't help but feel completely at home in his arms. The music picks up again and she reluctantly drops her arms from his neck as the slow song makes way for something more upbeat. Killian's hands fall from her hips, but he smirks and takes her hand before twirling her around. Emma laughs, wishing this moment wouldn't stop.

"Attention, everyone," the deejay says over the speakers after what feels like only a few minutes. "The countdown to the new year begins now. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…"

The crowd joins in, counting down the seconds until midnight. She's watching the clock, but she glances over to find Killian licking his lips, his eyes darting to meet hers. She blushes and looks away again, trying to distract herself with the countdown and not think about New Year traditions of what happens when the countdown reaches zero. When the clock strikes midnight, she locks eyes with him for a moment before grasping his crumpled shirt and yanking him towards her. His lips don't hesitate to respond and move urgently against hers. His hands move quickly—one anchoring against the small of her back and the other threaded through her hair, locking her in his embrace.

She hears the shouts and cheers of everyone around them as the crowd rings in the New Year and faintly remembers where she is (in the middle of a crowded ballroom with dozens of cameras around). Killian pulls back and she sways towards him, their foreheads still pressed together. "What's your room number?" she breathes. Killian pulls back to look at her, eyes smoldering and lips smirking. He presses a soft kiss against her lips and grasps her hand, tugging her towards the elevators.

She giggles as he impatiently stabs at the up arrow, the fingers of his other hand tightly clutching at hers. When an elevator opens, they quickly stumble inside with, much to Emma's dismay, several other people headed up to their own hotel rooms. As they stand in silence, waiting to arrive at his floor, Emma squeezes his hand tightly. He glances down at her and squeezes back and suddenly they're doing that back and forth like children, on the verge of breaking into hysterical giggles because they are still in the presence of six other people and all they really want to do is tear each other's clothes off.

When the elevator door opens at his floor, Killian quickly pulls Emma out of the car and down the hall, stopping in front of his door. As he fumbles for his key card in his suit jacket pockets, Emma runs her lips along the scruff of his jaw. He groans and angles her head up before chasing after her lips with his. She tugs his bottom lip with her teeth and he groans before gripping her head and hungrily kissing her back. After a moment, he stiffens as if sobering up suddenly and pulls away with a pained look on his face. "Wait, Emma, fuck, I still can't do this," he winces.

She drops her hands from his sides immediately. Of course he doesn't want her, it's too late. She waited too long. "Oh," she manages.

He softens and brings a hand to squeeze her shoulder. "No, it's not that I don't want to. I really, really do. But I can't. I can't do this if all it will be is another 'one-time thing' to you. I can't handle that, love. I'm perfectly content with being your friend if you are not ready for more and that's what you desire, but I can't be a hook up or whatever you choose to call it when I have all of these feelings for you, and despite my efforts, they don't seem to be going away any time soon, and—"

Emma cuts him off with her lips pressed against his once again, softly this time. "This isn't a one-time thing. I don't think it ever was," she admits. "Though I have been too scared to admit that for the past few months. What I'm trying to say is, I want this. I want you, for real this time. I want to try."

Killian nods and wastes no time unlocking his door and hauling her inside. He hoists her body up over his shoulder and carries her across the room. She squeals, laughing as he enthusiastically drops her onto the fluffy comforter on his bed with a bounce. He flicks on the bedside lamp, casting a warm glow around them. "Care to put your money where your mouth is, love?" he asks breathlessly as he loosens his tie and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

She stops laughing as his shirt opens up, revealing the warm skin beneath. Emma sits up and grips the bottom of his shirt, pulling it out from his pants and unbuttoning from the bottom to meet where his hands are making their way down. Impatiently, she pulls the shirt from his shoulders, but it doesn't fall from his wrists. She huffs in annoyance before grabbing at the sleeve and undoing one cufflink then the other, smiling in satisfaction as he stands completely shirtless in front of her for the first time in far too long.

Leaning forward on impulse, she presses an open-mouthed kiss against his the middle of his abdomen and traces her tongue along the line of hair that leads downward beneath his pants as her hands get to work removing his belt. She feels his groan rather than hears it, the sound rumbling through his body. His hands come up to play with her hair, fingertips flexing against her scalp. Emma unzips and quickly slides his pants down his legs so she's face-to-face with his boxer briefs which are betraying his already growing arousal. She grins at him wickedly, licking her lips before palming at him through the thin material.

"You trying to kill me, Swan?" he asks breathlessly. She looks up, smirking at how wrecked he looks before they've even truly started, and shrugs nonchalantly before pulling down the remaining barrier between her and his skin. She begins to stroke him gently and leans forward to bite at the skin above his hipbone, enjoying his answering hiss. Without warning she takes him into her mouth, immensely enjoying the effect she has on him.

After just a few strokes of her lips on him, Killian's hand wraps in her hair and gently pulls back so she releases his length from her mouth. "I think I'm plenty warmed up," he whispers, pushing her back by the shoulders until she's back to lying on the bed and kicking his pants the rest of the way off his legs. "I say it's time we even the playing field. Shall we?" A hand snakes beneath her, quickly flipping her over so she's face down on the bed. Killian begins unfastening each of the delicate buttons that trail down her spine, covering each exposed section of skin with his mouth as he goes.

Emma doesn't bother trying to hide the shiver that trails down her back as the scruff on his chin lightly scrapes along her spine. He chuckles at her response and she reaches back to lightly smack at his head. "You're going about leveling the playing field much too slow, Killian."

"Darling we're just getting started." He guides her to turn over and pulls her back to a standing position so he can lower the dress down her body, carefully skimming the chiffon sleeves down her arms so he doesn't ruin the dress (and thank god for that, because it's on loan from Monique Lhuillier and she really would rather not pay full price for the gown), and licks his lips as her chest is bared before him. She raises an eyebrow, expecting some sort of innuendo from the dark look on his face, but he says nothing. Instead, he delicately pulls the dress past her hips and it falls to the ground and honestly it has never taken her this long in her life to get undressed, this is ridiculous.

The moment she's free of her dress, standing before him in nothing but a black thong, she licks her lips at the sight of him completely naked before her. Emma pushes him down on the bed, quickly straddling his hips and fusing her mouth to his once more. He groans at the urgency, hands going down to grip her ass and pulling her closer so they're pressed together as much as they can be. "I had…kind of wanted…to take this slow," he says between kisses, trailing his mouth across her collarbones.

"We can do slow later. Killian, please," she whines. His lips wrap around a nipple, sucking it sharply into his mouth and she gasps.

He flips her over, pinning her to the mattress primarily with his hips flush against her own. "Ah ah, Swan," he tsks, nipping at her nose. "I've been waiting months for this." He lowers his lips next to her ear and practically growls into it. "I will not be satisfied with just a quick fuck. I want to watch and feel you fall apart against my mouth before I finally slide into you."

"Fuck," she curses, unable to come up with any more eloquent reply. She grasps at the comforter beneath her. Her skin feels too hot and every brush of his mouth as he works his way down her chest and stomach burns and she honestly just needs some release—"Oh, god!" she cries out as his mouth covers her through her panties, the sudden firm pressure of his tongue unexpected but so welcome.

She opens her eyes and glances at him as he pulls back just enough to pull the last stitch of clothing off her body and settles between her hips. His eyes lock with hers, the blue of his irises barely visible with how dilated they are. Killian's expression is full of heat but, instead of his familiar smirk, he stares at her with dark seriousness and she gulps. He brings a hand up and teases her slick flesh with two fingers, slipping them in after she makes a strangled sound that is a mix of frustration and a moan. As his fingers work in and out of her, he leans down until his lips latch firmly around her clit.

She cries out, too lost in the feel of his tongue circling around her and his fingers pumping in and out to think about what the people on the other side of the wall may be hearing. She reaches down and grabs roughly at his hair, holding him against her as he alternates between sucking and licking at her. She's so close and her back arches off the bed as her body tenses in anticipation of her climax. Just as she's about to fall over the edge, he stops his movements.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" she snaps, her body so on edge she feels like she is going to scream. Killian has the audacity to laugh at her, but before she has a chance to yell at him or smack him, his mouth is back on her, sucking her clit into his mouth hard as his fingers slide into her, pulling her over the edge instantly.

Her legs shake as he continues his ministrations through her release. When she falls back, limp on the mattress, he slows his motions and crawls up her body, burying his face in her neck and nipping at the junction where neck meets shoulder. "Yeah, this is absolutely not a one-time thing," Emma declares on a sigh. "No way in hell am I gonna actively avoid letting you do that again."

He laughs into her neck before tracing kisses up towards her lips. She opens her mouth to his tongue, deepening the kiss. Her hands release their grip on the bedding to run along the planes of his back, settling on his ass and squeezing for emphasis.

"I think it's about time we step this up a notch. What do you think?"

"As you wish," he quips, jumping up from the bed. Emma licks her lips at the sight of him standing before her, hair a complete mess, cheeks flushed and gloriously naked. He groans at her obvious perusal of his body but hesitates. "Bloody fucking hell," he curses suddenly.

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion as he turns around and heads towards his suitcase. "What the hell, Killian?"

"I didn't bring any bloody condoms with me," he says, searching his belongings anyway.

She giggles, causing him to turn around to berate her for her reaction, no doubt, but he stops as she reaches for her clutch on the bedside table, pulling one out. "Thankfully, I came prepared."

He sighs in relief before crossing the room and joining her to sit on the bed once more. "What, Swan, were you planning on taking a poor, innocent man up to your room and having your way with him tonight?" he asks, reaching for the foil packet. She pulls it away from him and pushes him down.

"I don't know about poor and innocent. You seem to be handling yourself just fine," she says, quirking an eyebrow up as she straddles him and rips open the package.

"Are you saying you came to this ceremony tonight planning on seducing me? I have to say, I'm flattered. And I like the way you think." His breath hitches as she rolls the condom down his length, pumping her hand up and down him experimentally before lining her hips up above him.

"You plan on talking this whole night or are you going to let this continue?" Emma asks him.

"I was under the impression that you quite like my talking," he says, sitting up upagain and fondling her breast with his right hand as he supports his weight with his left, "but if you insist, I can keep my mouth otherwise occupied." He replaces his hand with his mouth as if to punctuate his point.

Emma slides down until he is seated completely inside her and sighs at the pleasant stretch. Killian's answering groan vibrates through the spot where his mouth is on her breast. She remains still for a couple breaths, simply appreciating that they're finally doing this again. One of Killian's hands threads through her tangled hair, guiding her mouth down to his and devouring it in a hungry kiss. She takes that as her cue to move, slowly rising up and sinking down on him, tilting her hips to get the angle just right.

Killian helps steady her, dropping his hands to her hips and rocking up to meet her in slow thrusts, perfectly matching her pace. Emma can't help but think slow sex is ridiculously underrated. She's able to savor the feeling of every bit of Killian as they move together, hear each groan rumble through his chest and lock eyes when his flicker open. Not to mention, their slow pace guarantees they will both last longer.

After a few minutes, she tightens her knees again his hips and rolls over, pulling him with her in a messy, uncoordinated tumble that has him falling on top of her and the two of them erupting in laughter. Killian adjusts his position so his full weight isn't crushing Emma, lining up their faces. She smiles up at him, her breath catching when she takes in the happy, uninhibited adoration on his face. The familiar warning signals go off in her head at his expression, urging her to run, but she ignores them. She's still scared of letting herself fall for this man, but she is done with denying herself what she wants.

Emma reaches up, tangling her fingers in the short hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Killian's mouth moves fervently with hers, effectively putting an end to their brief soft moment. Using the hand that's not twisted in his hair, Emma drags her nails down his back, appreciating the shiver that follows it. His hips reflexively press down and grind against hers which she takes as a sign to continue. She wraps her legs high against his hips and groans at the way it lines him up perfectly at her center. Slipping a hand between them, she guides his length to her opening.

"Move," she orders him on a whisper.

Killian does as he's told, thrusting into her in one swift motion. "Yes, darling," he says, voice low and thick with desire.

He hitches her legs higher around his torso, pushing into her powerfully. The angle is just right and when he picks up their previously slow pace, she gasps. Killian hits the spot that makes her see stars over and over again, causing her legs to shake. She tilts her hips up as best as she can with her legs locked behind his back to maintain the pressure she can feel building up insider her again.

He leans down to kiss her sloppily, their motions losing finesse as they both get closer to finishing. "Let go, Emma," he practically growls against her lips, one of his hands snaking down to circle her clit.

Her back arches, pressing her breasts against his chest as she climaxes loudly, her legs falling away from his back and flexing against the mattress. Her waves of pleasure triggers Killian's release, and his hips slow and gradually still against hers as he lets out something that sounds like a moan mixed with her name. He collapses on top of her, letting his forehead come to rest against her shoulder. The motion of his chest heaving with labored breath causes his chest hair to rub against her over-sensitized nipples and Emma squirms beneath him.

He immediately lifts himself off of her, landing unceremoniously next to her on his stomach. She turns her head to look over at him and giggles at the boyish, satisfied smile pasted on his face. "Hi," she whispers, pressing her lips against his softly.

"Hello, love," he says, smile still in place.

"How are you doing?" she asks teasingly.

Killian stretches out. "I'm quite well. Better than I can ever remember. Although I do need to get out of this bed and clean up, and that idea sounds particularly unappealing at the moment."

She rolls her eyes and shoves against his ribs weakly. "Go. I'll be here when you get back."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "You better be."

He pushes back the hair that's clinging to her sweat slicked forehead with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss her forehead before he clambers off to the bathroom.

Emma stretches out, sighing in satisfaction. The tension that she tried to ignore between them in during their illusion of being "just friends" seems to have acted as a few months of foreplay, making tonight all the more satisfying. Thinking about just how satisfying it was, she realizes how loud she was a minute ago and blushes, hoping the walls are thick enough that she didn't give any of the neighboring rooms' residents an earful.

Killian clicks off the bathroom light and moves to join her back in bed. She doesn't bother to try and hide her appreciative gaze of his naked body as he returns to her. He lays on his side with a smile, head propped up on a fist. "Like what you see?"

"Absolutely," she affirms. He chuckles and leans forward to kiss her. Emma can't help but think she could get used to this whole not having to refrain from reaching out to him in any way thing. She sighs happily against his lips. "I've missed this."

"Aye, so did I. I wish I wouldn't have pushed you away last time, it would have saved us both a little trouble."

She shrugs and curls into his side, tucking her head against his neck. "It's alright. I think I had some things to work out on my own. It could've been relatively disastrous if you agreed to another one night stand when we both were harboring feelings for each other."

His fingers trace patterns on her scalp as he considers her words. "Well in that case, I retract my apology. This evening was quite an excellent reunion and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Neither would I," she whispers quietly, wrapping an arm around him to pull his face down towards her and cuddling him closer.

They lay there curled up together for a few minutes quietly, simply enjoying one another's presence. He breaks the comfortable silence, clearing his throat. "Are you planning on staying the night?" he asks hesitantly.

Emma pulls away and looks at him incredulously. "Seriously? I thought I made myself clear. I'm not going anywhere."

His answering grin grows slowly across his face and he nods in acceptance, pulling her half on top of him into a squeezing embrace that pushes all the air from her lungs.

She laughs as he loosens his hold on her. "Just so you know, it may be a bit more difficult to keep me around if you hug me so tight I pass out."

"Duly noted. I'll be sure to remember that," he says unapologetically, pressing his nose against her temple.

Seconds later, Killian yawns wide, his jaw cracking and making Emma huff a ghost of a laugh. "Tired?"

"Aye. A beautiful lass may have worn me out this evening," he says with a smirk.

"Well in that case, what do you say we get some sleep?"

He nods, yawning again and reaches over to turn off the lamp, cloaking them in darkness. Killian adjusts his position, making himself comfortable on his back and pulling the comforter over them. Emma snuggles into his side again, tossing a leg over his hips and an arm across his chest.

"'Night, Killian," she says softly.

"Sweet dreams, love," he whispers.