Happy Fourth of July to my fellow American peeps. Enjoy the fireworks everyone ;o)

Chapter Nine

They barely made it back to the room before Killian peeled the straps of Emma's gown down her arms, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a puddle of black silk.

"Scantily clad enough for you?" Emma quipped. Pulling pins from her blonde tresses, she shook out the strands while his gaze raked over her body, which had been completely bare beneath her dress.

Killian dragged her to him, wrapping his arms around her and securing hers to her side. "Leave the heels," he commanded roughly, relishing the soft expanse of her skin as his fingers trailed down her back, his hands squeezing her arse before they cupped the backs of her thighs and lifted her up into his arms.

"You're still wearing…" Emma mumbled against his lips, greedily seeking hers. "...too many clothes."

After walking them into the bedroom, Killian reluctantly set her back down on her feet, then proceeded to strip off his tuxedo with her assistance. Limbs tangled, tongues entwined, teeth clacked, and when Emma placed her hands on his chest and shoved him back into the leather chair in the corner of the room, a grunted oof whooshed from Killian's lungs.

"What do you think you're doing, love?"

Emma lowered herself onto her knees in front of him and yanked at his belt. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Being a very bad girl." A broad grin stretched across his lips and he pulled her hair away from her face as he purred, "I approve."

Freeing him from his trousers, her eyes widened and a hum caught in the back of her throat as her tongue slowly grazed along her upper lip. "So do I."

Killian lifted his hips, allowing her to drag his tuxedo pants and boxer briefs down his legs. Once they were removed completely, along with his socks and shoes, Emma ran her hands over the tops of his thighs, spreading his legs wider so she could fill the space between them. Her eyes flitted between his gaze and his cock, eager and erect for her attentions, bobbing against his belly in anticipation as her fingers drew closer.

Her nails scratched through the hair at his groin, pulling a moan from deep within his chest, and his head fell back when she finally wrapped her hands around his sizable girth. When he felt the loss of one of her hands, he looked down in time to watch her spit into it before slathering the fresh lubricant up and down his length, then repeat the action with her other hand.

"Gods above," Killian groaned, his breath catching at the feel of her tongue collecting the bead arousal seeping from the tip of his cock as her hands ran long, languid passes over his aching flesh. Each time her thumb brushed over his tip her mouth would follow, applying gentle sucking pressure to his head as her tongue fluttered over the sensitive area his now receded foreskin exposed.

A growl rumbled from his chest when the blessed torment of her mouth left his cock, but a new sound quickly followed when she set her sights further down. The pull of her mouth as she sucked one of his balls into its warm, wet depths - first one then the other - as she continued to stroke his length made Killian's eyes roll back and his knuckles turn white as his fingers gripped the ends of the armrests. Her tongue swirled, saliva dripping past her lips and collected by her hands, allowing them to continue to glide effortlessly over his cock.

"Bloody fuck!" His hips bucked when she released his balls and ran her tongue along his underside, rimming the puckered muscle of arse before licking a long, broad stripe from his back to his front, tracing the veins of his shaft and circling the swollen tip of his cockhead while her gaze remained intently fixed upon his face.

Toes curling and breath held tight in anticipation of the hot, wet feel of her mouth finally enveloping him, a stuttered groan escaped him when, instead, it was the soft, supple sensation of her breasts, and not her lips, he slipped between. The cant of his hips moved in time with her ministrations, each thrust upwards through the valley of her breasts had the tip of his member earning him either a gentle kiss or taunting flick of her tongue along his slit, further lubricating his cock with the excess saliva she released from her mouth and let run down his cock.

By the time she finally took him into her mouth Killian was worked up into such a state it was a wonder he did not come undone from the first pass of her lips as she attempted to take in his fullness.

"Fuck! Your mouth is like heaven," he panted, fighting against the temptation to take hold of her head and force himself further down her throat, knowing it was a feat no woman had been able to manage before, given his size. "But I can only imagine the paradise that awaits me between your legs, where you can take me in completely, Swan."

He saw the acceptance of his challenge flash in her eyes, and Killian refrained from voicing his desire to finish while fucking her into the mattress rather than her fucking him with her equisite mouth, enjoying her efforts too much to want to put a stop to them. However, the shock of being swallowed so far down her throat that the tip of her nose brushed through the thick thatch of hair at the base of his cock unexpectedly unmanned him. The tight coil of ecstasy that had collected in his groin snapped and his entire body shuddered as a guttural groan rumbled up his throat while his release slid down the back of hers.

Her hands and mouth worked him through his orgasm, prolonging his pleasure until every last drop of bliss was spent. Laboring to draw in a full breath, his chest heaved as he ran a hand over his face, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"You naughty girl," he exhaled, breathlessly. His eyes narrowed on her self-satisfied expression as he accused, "You made me come."

Swiping her thumb over the corners of her mouth, Emma smirked deviously. "I thought you liked it when I was bad."

"Oh, I do," he assured her darkly, leaning forward as she began to scoot back on her knees. "Because that means I get to give you that promised spanking."

Emma yelped when he surged forward. Hoisting her up and over his shoulder, he smacked her arse firmly and carried her over to the bed, depositing her across his lap after he settled on its edge.

"You like that, don't you love?" Killian grit out, alternating between firm swats and soothing caresses while she was draped helplessly over his thighs, the imprint of his hand emblazoned on her backside standing out in stark contrast with her usual creamy complexion. "You don't have to answer." After one final solid spanking, he slid his hand between her legs, his fingers dipping into her drenched core. A thoroughly indecent moan escaped her lips, which were indented with the impression of her teeth, their bite having stifled her cries of pained ecstasy each time his palm had struck. "I can feel how much you enjoyed it even if you tried to keep the truth of your pleasure from me by trying to stay silent."

His other hand wound through her hair and with an insistent tug, he pulled her off his lap and ordered her onto the bed.

"Spread those gorgeous legs for me, Swan. It's my turn to taste you."

Killian couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight of her glistening sex, her flesh pink and plumped and desperate for his cock. His gaze trailed up her form, his eyes glazing over with lust as he watched her knead her breasts, her fingers rolling her nipples into taut, beckoning peaks he could not ignore. Climbing onto the bed, he crawled over her body, bracing his weight onto his hands while his mouth worked each rosy bud in turn. His tongue laved penance for the transgressions his teeth left behind, and brands were seared into her skin as he rut his recovering cock through her slick folds.

Emma's back arched off the bed, her hands fisting the covers as her body writhed beneath his. "Fuck, Killian!" she panted, canting her hips in search of greater friction than his half-hard state could provide her in that moment. "Get a move on!"

"As you wish."

Forcing her legs further apart, he wasted no time delving into the delectable pool of arousal that awaited him, lapping up her desire with broad strokes and teasing her clit with each finishing flick of his tongue. The decadent taste of her would have been enough to shorten his usual refractory time, but coupled with the sounds she made the closer she got to the edge, Killian found himself swelling to the point of aching in record time.

Pain ripped through his scalp when Emma's fingers dug into the strands of his hair, her hips rocking and swiveling against his mouth as she held him against her sex, each flutter of his tongue bringing her closer to ruin. Her legs quivered on either side of his head, her pants becoming vocalized moans between the string of praises and profanities spilling from her lips. When she finally came, her release washed over his tongue like champagne pouring from a freshly uncorked bottle and he wasn't about to let one drop of her essence go to waste, swallowing down her orgasm as she continued to convulse before falling limp.

"I'm not done with you yet, Swan."

Kneeling, he grabbed her legs and flipped her over onto her stomach before hoisting her onto her knees by her hips. Her torso, arms, and head remained slack, a fresh round of whimpers and moans muffling into the mattress when he slid two fingers into her core, gauging the stretch of her to make sure she was adequately prepared for his size at this angle. Coating his cock with the moisture he'd collected from her center, he lined himself up with her entrance and slowly eased in the tip. A sound of discomfort hissed from Emma's lips and her core clenched around him, stalling his actions.

"Too much?" he asked with concern lacing his strained tone, willing her to relax so he could slip further into her tight depths.

"No," she rasped, wetting her lips and taking a deep breath in. "No, God! Keep going! Please!"

This time, when he thrust inside, she pushed back along his length, both of them working together until every inch of him was seated within her. Killian's head fell back, his eyes clamped shut at the feel of her molding around his cock, as though she were made for him. His lips parted and a gasp left his lungs when she apparently became fed up with his lack of movement and began rocking her hips. The grip of her walls releasing and catching his length had his own hips thrusting in time with her rhythm until her arse, still imprinted with the palm of his hand, was bouncing off his thighs as he pounded into her.

"Look at you taking me so well, love," he panted, his fingers digging into her hip as he watched his cock disappear into her depths again and again. "Fuck, you're a marvel."

Sweaty slaps of skin and filthy utterances filled the room as they both chased the desire that had been building between them since the moment they faced off in that alley. Feeling how close he was to potentially finishing before her, Killian grasped beneath her breast, wrapping his arm around her so he could pull her flush to his chest.

"Sweet Jesus!" Emma reached back and wound her arm around his neck, carding her fingers through his hair and holding on for dear life as this new angle assured she'd reach her breaking point before he did.

"Oh, God!" she cried out, again. The phrase became a litany as it continued to roll off her tongue while Killian's hips rut into her, thrusting with abandon until her walls clamped down around him and she quaked in his arms.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

The force of her orgasm nearly expelled him from her as it gushed over his cock and began to trickle down his thighs. He showed her no mercy, pistoning into her as she convulsed from the waves of pleasure that he could feel tightening in his groin and building at the base of his spine. Keeping her upright in his arms with his hands clamped over her breasts, he buried his face into the crook of her neck, muffling his cries into the slick, salty taste of her skin when he finally reached his pinnacle and threw himself over the edge. His hips jerked, his thrusts sporadic while his cock throbbed and emptied into her depths, the excess of which mingled with her own release as it seeped out from where they were joined together, making an even greater mess that Killian quite frankly didn't give a flying fuck about.

Sated and panting in equal rhythm, they collapsed together on the bed and Killian felt sure Emma could feel his heart pounding from where his chest was still pressed to her back, her own thumping wildly against the palm of his hand resting between her breasts.

"That was…"

"A one time thing?" he taunted her, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, there was definitely more than one."

~/~

Emma wasn't sure how long she'd lay sprawled out on the bed before finally feeling confident enough in her limbs' abilities to support her. All she knew was Killian was already out of the shower - Are you sure I can't tempt you to take one with me so we can get each other dirty again, love?, he'd quipped - and if she didn't want to wake up sticky and covered in the by-product of their recent activities then she'd better take one as well.

He startled when she opened the door to the bathroom, steam billowing out and fogging the mirror he was standing in front of, a towel wrapped around his waist and his hands braced against the counter, knuckles growing white from the sudden tightened grip he was applying to its edge.

In an effort to alleviate the unexpected tension her presence had caused, Emma teased, "Sorry I didn't join you sooner, I could have washed your back for you… among other things."

Her playful expression and tone evaporated when her eyes fell to the scarred stripes criss-crossing his exposed back, and his guarded demeanor finally made sense. Flicking her eyes back up to meet the reflection of his, her chest tightened at the wary vulnerability the mirror revealed in his forget-me-not gaze.

He tensed again when she took a step forward, his muscles rigid and unyielding beneath her touch as she traced one of the more pronounced lines. When her lips pressed against the raised flesh of his scars, all apprehension melted away and a shuddering sigh expelled from his chest, lowering his shoulders as his head fell forward.

"I'm gonna get cleaned up," she murmured into his skin. "It's okay if you don't wait up for me. I'll be back in bed soon."

She didn't wait for any sort of response, making her way towards the shower and turning it on full force, allowing him the opportunity to leave the bathroom without having to answer any of the questions silently filling the space alongside the lingering steam. Emma stood under the hot spray for several minutes after the door clicked shut behind him, the image of his back practically projected on the marble wall in front of her as her mind ran rampant.

Who could have done such a thing to him? Who would have dared raise a hand to one of Brennan Jones' sons?

Unless…

Emma shook her head and snatched her shampoo off the shelf in the corner, lathering the product in her hands before vigorously working it through her strands and massaging it into her scalp. Brennan could be a cruel and ruthless son of a bitch, based on all the stories she'd heard of him from his hay-day, but she didn't believe for one moment he would raise a hand against his own flesh and blood to such a horrific degree. No. Someone else had abused Killian, beaten him numerous times by the look of it. But who?

While I might have my father and brother close to me now, it was not always the case. I know all too well how it feels to be left on your own for too long, to feel unwanted and of no particular use to anyone. To feel like you're… nothing.

Killian's words from the day before washed over her as she continued through the routine of her shower. Not wishing to make him feel as though he owed her an explanation - even if she did tease him on the yacht that she expected reciprocity at some point - Emma took her time cleaning up and drying off, fully expecting him to be asleep, or pretending to be, anyway, when she opened the bathroom door.

Imagine her surprise when she found him stretched out on his back, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling and clearly awake when she emerged.

Pulling on nothing more than one of his undershirts, Emma slid beneath the sheets and cozied up next to his side, nestling her head in the space between his chest and shoulder. Despite the taut, stagnant atmosphere, she lazily wove her fingers through the hair at his chest, waiting for him to decide.

His chest rose higher than it had with the even breaths he'd been taking and his fortifying swallow was audible in the ear she had resting against his chest. "I was ten when my mother died," he began in a hushed tone. Emma kept her touch light and even as he spoke, trailing her fingers over his chest and down his side, skimming over the ridges and dips of his ribs and abs before gliding them back up to start the trek over again.

"She was a warning. A message to my father from some of the people he'd crossed. He wasn't an overly powerful man back then, just another criminal trying to carve out his own place among vipers and rats."

Another deep breath and his hand came down to rest atop hers, stilling it over his heart.

"Worried for my brother and my safety, Father sent us to our uncle, my mother's brother. A man by the name of Edward Teach."

Killian's contempt clipped around each syllable of the man's name.

"We were only meant to stay with him until father could smooth things over, but things took a turn for the worse and he had to leave the country."

"That's when he came here? To America?"

"Aye." His fingertips brushed back and forth over her knuckles then up her arm, gaining further purchase over her raised skin with each stroke until he was toying with the ends of her hair. "He said he would send for us once he had himself established, but as the weeks and months dragged on Liam and I began to lose faith. Then Teach told us he'd heard from our father, that he'd decided he was better off without us and we were Teach's problem to deal with now."

Emma laid there quietly and listened as Killian revealed the hell Teach put him and Liam through, trying her best to keep a tight rein on her anger and tears. The first thing the bastard had done was separate the two brothers, keeping Killian locked away in a filth-encrusted apartment while dragging Liam along with him to learn the business side of things.

"They'd be gone days, even weeks at a time," Killian told her. "More than once I ran out of food before they got back, half-starved and too weak to keep up with the chores he expected of me, to earn my keep." A mirthless chuckle rumbled through his chest. "You saw from my back how he responded to such disrespect and defiance."

"Did he beat Liam, too?"

He stiffened beside her, sucking in a pained breath before replying, "No. His punishment was witnessing mine and knowing there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop it."

Emma curled her fingers over his heart, scratching lightly through hair tickling her palm and leaned in to place a kiss at the base of his neck. "But it did stop eventually," she reminded him. "Tell me about that."

"As I got older, I became less afraid of venturing out whilst Teach and Liam were away. I was coming back from the grocer, having earned some money from some side hustles, when I came upon a gang of kids beating up a younger, smaller boy. I intervened, ran the brutes off and helped the kid up off the pavement, introducing myself to him." A fond sounding huff left his lips before a rigidity set back in. "He ran off without telling me who he was, but I found out the next day."

"Well," Emma pressed, the dramatic pause stretching on too long for her liking. "Who was he?"

Sighing, he revealed, "Neal. The boy was Neal Gold. His Grandfather, Malcolm, paid me a visit the next day."

Emma was stupefied. Killian had once saved Neal from a beating? One that had earned him gratitude and a promised favor from none other than Malcolm Gold. Killian went on to tell her how he had considered asking for Malcolm's help with Teach, but knew favors from men such as Gold, even if it was one they owed you, always came with a price. He'd planned to wait until Liam came back so they could decide together.

"But Teach came back first and decided for me," Killian said tightly, through clenched teeth.

"How so?"

"He'd found out about my hustles, that I'd been earning money. He demanded a cut and when I said no, he proceeded to take off his belt, his weapon of choice in administering his beatings. But he was drunk and unstable. I was older now, bigger, stronger, perhaps not enough to take him on if he'd had all his faculties, but it was enough of an edge, all I needed to…"

"You killed him, didn't you." It wasn't a question. Emma had already deduced that one of the Jones must have done away with Teach, his crimes were too numerous, too abhorrent to let stand. She took his continued silence as confirmation and placed another kiss along his collarbone, murmuring into his skin. "Good."

A shuddering breath she hadn't even been aware he was holding left his lungs and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly against him as he told her the rest of the tale. How, when Liam had learned what Killian had done, he'd offered to take the blame on Killian's behalf with the police, but Killian had already made other arrangements. He'd called in the favor with Malcolm. In exchange for Gold cleaning up the mess and covering up Teach's death, Killian agreed to work for him, to become a part of the Gold family as one of their made men. When Malcolm arrived to collect, Liam refused to let Killian go without him, despite Killian's arguments, and the two of them were drafted into Gold's service.

"Liam never wanted this life," he confessed to her. "He often spoke of the day we'd both be free of thugs and thieves, of the criminal element, making our way in the world, seeking glory with honor. Glory for the Jones brothers." A wistful smile tugged at his lips, brushing against her temple. "But he wouldn't abandon me to the Gold's anymore than he would Teach. Anymore than he would to my demons."

"What do you mean?"

"Not long after we began working for Gold, truths about our father came to light," he told her. "Malcolm showed us letters his men found when they'd cleaned out Teach's flat. Letters our father had sent, none of which implied his wish to be rid of us. Later, we learned Teach had hired some local boys to write to our father, posing as Liam and I, telling him we blamed him for mother and had no wish to see or speak with him again. He never actually abandoned us to Teach. Upon hearing this news, Liam reached out and got in touch with our father, told him everything. He got on the first plane over and immediately struck a deal with Malcolm to secure our freedom."

"The treaty?"

"Aye. He offered Malcolm, who was losing a long-standing turf war with another family in the UK, half of the territory he'd managed to claim for himself here in Storybrooke and use of the docks, under Jones' supervision, of course, to keep his export business running."

"And you all settled back here after that?"

"Not quite," he whispered, so soft and low she almost missed the utterance. "Though he forgave our father for putting us in Teach's hands, knowing he wouldn't have if he'd known how big of a bastard the man was, Liam didn't want anything to do with the organization father had built here. He wanted out of the life completely, and my father, feeling he owed it to Liam, let him go."

"What did Liam do?"

A snort left Killian's chest, "Joined the navy, if you can believe that."

"Really?" Emma replied with a chortle of her own. "For how long?"

His amusement evaporated, a heavy weight of contrition coming over him as he imparted, "Until father begged him to come back, worried about me and fearing where my recklessness might lead."

"You? Reckless?" Emma teased, hoping to alleviate some of the self-loathing she could feel seeping from his pores, but it didn't really work.

"When we got to Storybrooke, I revelled in the freedom and prestige being a Jones afforded me. In my defense, I was all of sixteen at the time, but I already knew. Was already drawn to it all. The blood, the violence, the women, the power. I made friends with others like me, blokes with their own demons they'd chosen to befriend rather than hide away. Robin and Will have been my best mates for over a decade, and Arthur used to run with us until his father started keeping him closer to the Pendragon fold… and far away from the rash and volatile Jones boy."

"You became too much for your father to handle, huh?"

"I suppose," he sighed, "And once he learned about his disease and the uncertain future it meant for him and the organization, he felt he needed a more… stable person to act as his second."

Wetting her lips, Emma hesitated for a moment before inquiring, "So, Liam is the way he is because he… resents having to come back and run things? Why don't you just offer to take over so he can go back to the life he wants? You aren't that reckless, hot-headed teenager anymore."

"I have," Killian said. "But Liam is ever the dutiful son and big brother. He thinks if he'd come over with us in the first place, I might not have fallen so far into darkness so fast. He blames himself for being selfish and not insisting he take care of me rather than agreeing I go with our father whilst he pursued his own path." Another sigh heaved from his chest. "I don't think it's resentment that makes my brother act the way he does. It's his inability to control things. He can't control my father's illness, or how things will fall to him once he passes. He can't control our enemies, or who might come gunning for us next."

"He can't control his brother or the woman he had conscripted into the family business," she added knowingly, finally understanding Liam Jones a bit more and his order to have her dealt with.

It wasn't the business he feared she was a threat to, it was his little brother. Liam spent his whole life desperate to protect Killian and failing to do so in those moments Killian truly needed him. From Teach's beatings, to being left alone, fending for himself with an empty belly and even emptier spirit until he was left with no other recourse than to end the abuse the only way he knew how. Emma had no doubt Liam would have killed the bastard himself, or would have been good to his word, taking the fall on Killian's behalf, but once again, his little brother had shouldered the responsibility Liam felt ought to have been his and took matters into his own blood stained hands. Time and again, Liam fell short of being the big brother Killian needed - at least in his own reckoning, she very much doubted Killian ever saw it that way - so it made sense he would be wary of anyone or anything that might be a potential danger to his brother, even to the point of lashing out against the very person he was trying to protect.

"You know," Killian mused, drawing her back to the warmth of his embrace and the solace they were both enjoying, unburdened and nestled together. "I think our brothers would get along rather well, despite the whole mob boss, FBI quarrel," he cheeked. "They are rather alike in their own damnable and stubborn ways, don't you think?"

Emma hummed sleepily. "You may be right, but… let's not test that theory any time soon."

Killian chuckled and buried his face in her hair, licking and kissing up her neck towards her ear, "As you wish, love." The gravel of his voice made her toes curl and her leg brushed against his, wrapping over his bare hip in an effort to draw closer to him. His hand toyed with the hem of the shirt - his shirt - she was wearing, and began pushing it up her torso. Palming her breast, a soft sigh escaped her lips and he bent his head down taking her nipple into his mouth as his hand slid downward, his fingers slipping between her damp folds.

"Killian," she keened, her back bowing and breath hitching as his tongue continued to lave between her breasts.

"I want you," he murmured into her skin, rolling them so she was on her back beneath him.

Pulling the shirt up and over her head, a teasing smirk matched her tone as she quipped, "Again?"

"Always," he stated, emphatically, dragging the tip of his cock through her folds. "Since the moment we met."

A collective groan filled the room as he pushed inside. Emma's eyes slammed shut and her legs widened. "Fuck! You're so big," she panted, relishing the delicious burn of his massive cock against her walls, stretching her to the brink with exquisite torment.

"And you," he replied, his voice gruff and breathless, each word punctuated with the roll of his hips as he attempted to sink deeper. "So wet. So tight. So… God. Damn. Perfect."

His chest heaved, his coarse hair scratching wondrously against her nipples when he was finally sheathed to the hilt, balls deep inside her.

"I won't let him hurt you," he murmured into her neck. Emma opened her eyes as he lifted his head, fixing his gaze to her as he began to move inside her. "I won't let anyone hurt you… ever."

Words caught in the back of Emma's throat, cut off by both the sensations tugging at her heart in response to his words as well as the ones building at the base of her spine as his hips swiveled and rocked, his cock hitting her perfectly with each thrust.

"Gods above, I don't know how I'll ever let you go after this."

"Killian, I-"

"I know," he grit out, clamping his eyes shut and momentarily losing himself in the feel of her. "A deal's a deal, but still…"

Emma gasped when he hitched her legs up higher on his hips, practically bringing her knees to her chest as his thrusts picked up speed and intensity, each pounding action making stars appear behind her eyelids as her release grew ever closer to its breaking point.

"I'm a selfish bastard and I want you to stay," he grunted. "Say you'll stay, Swan. When this is all over, stay. Stay with me, Emma. Stay!"

Opening her mouth to respond, all that came out was a scream of ecstasy as she surrendered to the flood of her release, bathed in a pleasure so intense she thought she might drown in it.

"Fuck, Emma!" Killian roared, his movements erratic as his cock twitched and throbbed within her, spilling himself with his eyes tightly shut and mouth hanging slack as his hair fell over his forehead.

God, was he gorgeous.

For the second time, they collapsed together in each other's arms, their breaths and heart rates working in tandem to normalize as exhaustion seeped in. Emma stiffened when Killian placed a kiss on her forehead and moved to rearrange the sheets, covering them both. She waited for him to ask her again, to tell her how he wanted her to stay and await her response. Instead, he murmured for her to get some sleep, then soon drifted off himself, his arm around her loosening as his breathing evened out.

Emma laid there for what felt like hours before succumbing to the siren call of slumber herself, warring with how she would have responded if he'd pressed the issue. Would she stay? Could she bind herself to the Jones, serve the family as one of their made men… er, women, a lifetime commitment with no possibility of leaving except feet first? Forget the family. Could she bind herself to Killian? Stay by his side, fully embracing her demons and the life she'd always craved but hesitated to completely fall into?

Emma woke the next morning to cool sheets beside her, remembering after a moment's panic that Killian had an early meeting with Arthur. The faint memory of him kissing her with a murmured, I'll be back soon, love whispered into her ear flit through her mind as she threw the covers back and made her way to the shower.

The hot spray provided no answers to the questions she'd fallen asleep with. Neither did the coffee and fresh plate of hot breakfast waiting for her on the dining table. In fact, she was no closer to any sort of answer when Killian came back to the room later that morning. But it didn't matter. His arrival brought with it a whole host of new questions; ones more pressing than those he'd whispered into her skin while plunging into her depths the night before.

"Get packed, Swan. We're leaving."

"What? Why?"

"We have to get back to Storybrooke. I have to tell Liam and my father everything."

"What, now? But… we don't know who the rat is yet."

"It doesn't matter," he said, pulling her from the table and ushering her into their room so she could get dressed. "Our rat is only the tip of a much bigger problem. One I cannot keep from my father and brother any longer."

"What problem?"

She could practically feel the air leaving the room from the look in Killian's eyes when he fixed her with his cold, hardened stare.

"War," he growled darkly. "A war is coming."