This is their moment, and no one can come between them. In the midst of everything, they are here, together. It fills her heart to the brim, until it is overflowing with how much she cares for him.
When her lips part for him, he holds nothing back, turning his head so he can taste her more deeply. She threads her fingers through his hair, while his hand lowers to grasp her hip. He pulls her roughly against him, and she moans into his mouth. Has she ever been this close to anyone? Will she ever be again?
She wants no one but him.
Rising flames dance along her skin, but she does not retreat. She plunges happily, completely into the fire that has always existed between them.
Finally, she can admit to it all.
"Emma," he whispers by her cheek, pressing kisses. "You are part of my heart. I do not want to live without you. I love you."
She leans back to stare straight into his eyes. Those brilliant blue eyes, seeing her soul. He cannot doubt her. He must believe she speaks the truth. "And I love you, Killian Jones. All of you. I want you."
The light in his gaze is heavenly, and his answering smile is breathtaking. She has never seen him so happy.
"Does this mean I have your permission to court you, Miss Swan?"
She kisses the tip of his nose. "Aye, Mr. Jones. You are most welcome to court me – and to show me how much you love me. As I will show you. Always."
He grins before swooping in and kissing her again, more passionately than before. She is suddenly relieved that the lighthouse is so remote. The way he is touching her, and how her hands are running down his chest, may not be seen as appropriate.
Is it wrong that in all honesty, she does not give a damn?
He is breathing hard, releasing her only when he must. She gasps when he finds her neck and lingers there, his teeth grazing tender skin. Cupping the back of his head, she keeps him near. Her eyes close of their own accord. She only wants to feel, to sense each brush of his lips.
When he draws back, he is quite the sight. His hair is mussed from her fingers, his mouth is red, and his face is flushed. She likely looks the same.
His eyes rake over her body. The glance he then gives her, mischievous and daring and desirous, makes her heart lose control.
"Come inside." His voice is husky. "So we can be alone."
They are alone, but she understands what he means. Anyone could suddenly appear on the path. Then they would be caught in a compromising position. One kiss could ruin her livelihood.
However, as he guides her through the door, she hesitates. Immediately, he turns back.
"It is all right, darling." He squeezes her hand gently. "I will do anything you say. You know that."
She does. She trusts him with her life. This is not why she is afraid.
Can she restrain herself? Or does she want him so much that nothing will stand in her way?
The door shuts behind her. With that barrier, the world stills and becomes distant.
To her surprise, he does not take advantage of it. He only guides her farther inside, leading her to his studio.
Her portrait is waiting for her there, finished and uncovered.
Her own eyes look back at her, amid a blaze of golden yellow, deep reds, and rosy pinks. The colors are dazzling, reminding her of whose brushstrokes brought them together.
He circles behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. She leans into him, cherishing his embrace. Her heartbeat settles, matching the rhythm of his.
Here, she is safe. And she is loved.
If she could, she would never leave.
Judging by the way Killian kisses her hair, humming softly, he feels the same.
He is drowning in a whirlpool of hope, disbelief, and burning love.
She really loves him as much as he does her.
Her hands caress his shoulders as she sighs, closing her eyes. "I wanted to do that for ages."
He murmurs, "As have I. I cannot express how glad I am that you came. I worried… That August–"
She presses her fingers to his lips. He kisses them. He can never tire of kissing her. "I told him that what he was seeking was already given to another."
"And he did not argue?"
"No. He understood." She swallows hard. He sees tears slowly run down her cheeks and gently wipes them away. "I am so sorry, Killian. I wanted so much to tell you I loved you that day – the day when you told me. I was a coward. I thought only of myself, of how much it would hurt me if something went wrong. I do not deserve you."
"Dearest Emma, you deserve everything. I knew why you could not tell me. But I was willing to wait. I'll always wait for you, my love. I can still hardly believe you have chosen me. I am the most fortunate man in Storybrooke – no, the continent, the world!"
This makes her smile. She rests her head on his chest, and he holds her tenderly, stroking her back.
"How wonderful it is, to be loved by you," she whispers. "I have never loved anyone as much as I love you."
He almost forgets to breathe.
"Promise you will never leave me. Promise?" She still sounds unsure that she is worthy.
"Emma, I promise you." He means it with every fiber of his being. "I would do anything for you. I promise I will treasure your heart."
She knows by the curve of his lips and the glint in his eyes that he desires her. But Killian is a gentleman. Disengaging himself, he puts the kettle on the stove and fetches a blanket to wrap her in.
Her own cashmere blanket, that she gave him so many months ago. Now, instead of honeysuckle, it smells like him. The salt of the sea. Fresh pine needles.
"You kept it." She rubs the soft fabric over her cheek.
"Of course I did." He smiles. "It was the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. Something you held so dear – yet you gave it to me, of all people."
She drops the blanket on the settee and rushes into his arms.
He chuckles. "It seems we cannot bear to be apart for long."
"It has been several minutes."
"Aye, a quarter of an hour, at least."
She presses a kiss to his neck. His throat trembles under her touch. "After years of not having each other, who could blame us?"
"Ah, I was wondering why you were not at the schoolhouse," he teased.
"School is not in session until after the election. Pastor Hopper let me know after the meeting." The haze of their affection breaks when she remembers the other reason she came to see him. "Killian, Mary Margaret came to see me this morning."
"Oh?"
"Yes, she came to tell me…that she sold her farm to Spencer."
He pulls away from her and stares. "She did what?"
"Exactly what you think I said." She takes a deep breath. "She is staying with me for the time being."
"Wait, lass – why would she do such a thing?" His gaze hardens. "Is she going to leave David?"
"No! No, she loves him. She loves him so much that she…paid his debt." She feels miserable, reliving that moment when the poor girl told her. "Oh, Killian, what are we going to do?"
He clenches his jaw. "Dave is going to have a fit. That is for sure."
"Will he be very angry with her? She was only trying to help."
"I know, love. And I admire her for that. But David will not see her gesture as a helping hand. He is a proud man. He has hidden his father's shame for many years. Did you know that he had a brother? A twin. His name was James. Turns out Mr. Nolan sold not only his farm but his infant son as well. He gave him to Spencer to raise as his own son." He scoffs. "James was the opposite of David. He lived a life of debauchery. He got killed in a brawl at a tavern and left Spencer with mountains of debt. It broke Ruth's heart."
"That is why she loves David so fiercely. He is her only child."
"And Spencer tried to take him away. Tried to bribe him into submission." He shook his head. "He was so proud that he finally had the courage to fight for his family. Without the mortgage on the farm, there is nothing Spencer can do now to the Nolans. I suppose the value of Mary's land was more enticing than revenge to the greedy bastard."
"It was revenge, in a way." The realization, sudden and terrible, horrifies her. "He knew this would truly destroy David's happiness. That losing Mary Margaret would hurt him more."
He says nothing, cradling her in his arms. "Dave can still win the election. He can still become constable. Wouldn't that be a sight, the townspeople showing their faith in him over Spencer the snake?"
The sudden image of Spencer as a hissing snake, long and fat, is too much. She bursts into giggles. He joins in her laughter, adding chuckles of his own.
Afterward, the silence in the room is a reminder that as long as they stay here, inside the lighthouse, the realities beyond that door do not exist. It is a vain but tempting wish.
She raises her head to offer him her mouth again. The kiss is soft and sweet, and he returns her ardor with just as much feeling.
"It's settled, then," he finally says between more kisses. "We must help to convince them all that only David deserves that post. Together, we can accomplish anything."
A/N: This is now up to date with what I have posted on AO3! Thank you for taking the time to read it. ❤ Reviews and feedback are welcome and appreciated! I hope you are enjoying the story - wish me luck as I finish the last 4 chapters!
I removed all my work from this website years ago, and I've decided to slowly bring it back. I have 14 other Captain Swan fics I'd like to share, and while I may not have the energy to post them all up, I will do my best. I'm also on AO3 under the same username, and I'm on Tumblr as 4getfulimaginator2022.