Rating: M

Killian's eyes snapped from the report on his screen to the other end of the room as he heard the familiar sound of heeled boots making their way swiftly toward him, a head of blonde curls breaking into view. He glanced at the time and frowned – David would be back from his lunch soon.

"What are you doing here, Swan?" he asked, turning his chair toward the entrance to his shared office as she stormed in. "Is everything okay?"

Gods, if she wasn't a sight for sore eyes, no matter the reason. Her white tank top was framed by black leather, a floral skirt floating elegantly above her knees – she was a vision that he'd missed dearly since leaving the night before.

He had his answer the minute she entered the enclosed space, before she'd even opened her mouth to give it. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, nostrils flaring as he breathed in the addicting taste of her arousal. Before he could separate the memories of the prior evening – his mouth buried in her folds as she came apart on top of him, tongue lapping every last drop of her down – she was clambering onto him.

"I need you," she murmured, her bare thighs creamy and smooth against the black denim he wore as she slid onto his lap, her skirt fanning across him as the chair he sat in leaned precariously back.

Her fingers scratched through the short sides of his hair and down his neck, her plea ghosting across the space between their lips as she pressed herself to his chest.

"Your father will be back at any moment, Swan," he chastised, hand rising to find purchase in her loose curls, his fingers tightening just that Emma knew he was tempted as well, "and I don't think he'd be pleased to return and find his partner fucking his daughter across the desk..."

"But I would be very pleased," she purred, grinding herself against the bulge of his crotch and tucking her face into the crook of his shoulder, rutting along the smooth skin between the ribbed top of his black sweater and the rough beginning of his stubble, "so if you won't fuck me here on the desk, take me out back, Killian."

"Emma," he sighed, unable to still the rumble in his throat or keep the smirk from his lips as she scrunched the soft fabric of his sweater, digging in as she ground herself further against what was becoming a very obvious problem between his legs.

"Alpha..." she whined in response, knowing what using his title would do to him, though the scent of her fresh arousal washing over him once more as she writhed on his lap was already more than enough to do him in. "Please, I need you..."

"Aye," he growled, standing abruptly, the chair slamming against the wall as he held her body to his own, her legs wrapping instinctively around his hips.

She clung to him, his footsteps echoing through the empty building as he strode toward the back courtyard that led to storage and evidence – with her father returning any minute, he needed a place where his partner would have no reason to go looking for him.

The last thing he needed was David finding out he'd been sleeping with – not sleeping, never sleeping, he reminded himself ruefully – for the past six months. Emma squirmed against his hold, rucking her core against him as he held her, his needy omega – not mine – writhing against his body and scent gland, drinking in the pheromones that were rolling from his skin thanks to her unexpected visit during his weekend shift.

"You're a desperate thing today, aren't you, Omega?" he crooned against her, drawing pleasure from the way she whined as he back her up against a hard, brick wall, the long-disused entrance to storage the perfect alcove to keep them hidden from nosy partners.

"My sheets still smell like you," she murmured, her voice laden with something he couldn't quite place, her hands delving into the narrow space between them and tearing at his zipper. "You're everywhere – and all I can remember when I wake up is how full I felt the night before...how empty I am now..."

Her words stoked that part of him that was always hungering to take her completely, to make her his in the way only a claim would. He loved the idea of his musk marking her apartment, the scent of his release imprinted on her skin and sheets so that no matter how far he was, she was never truly without him.

Gods, didn't she know how badly he wanted to stay, to wake up with her each morning, wrapped in her scent and knowing that everything he'd ever needed was within his arms? He wanted so desperately to tell her, but the fear in her eyes whenever he made love to her too slowly, whenever he called it something other than fucking...it would drive her away, and if this was the only version of her he was allowed to have, then he would suffer the loss of what might have been in silence just to keep it.

"You have me now, Swan," he rasped, the words a poor substitute for everything running through his head, but he growled and bucked beneath her as her hand found his cock still constrained within his jeans, aching to be sheathed in something far more welcoming.

"Not yet," she breathed, giving him a squeeze, "but I will – I'm so wet for you Killian, just for you..."

Pressing her harder against the wall, he slipped one hand free from beneath her and shucked his pants down his hips, groaning with satisfaction as she pulled his length upwards, the sensitive head exposed and weeping to be inside of her tight heat.

"Alpha," he reminded her with a growl, desire and possessiveness curling in his gut as he jogged her upward, her slick-damp thighs teasing his shaft before he let her slide back down, her folds greedily swallowing every inch of him, drawing obscene noises from them both, "and what a needy omega you are, driving through town with that tight little cunt of yours aching and open for me...no panties, love..."

"I needed you...Alpha," she purred brokenly, rocking against him more urgently as he thrust into her, the brick rough and jarring against her back as his pace increased. "I wasn't going to take no for an answer."

"Aye," he rasped, already spiraling within the tight grip of her channel, his knot swelling embarrassingly fast as visions of all the things he wanted for her – for them – spun through his head, "that's what I bloody love about you, Emma...my headstrong omega..."

Somewhere between the harsh breaths and noises they shared, he could hear his words echoing – what I love about you – but he was too far gone chasing her to care, her orgasm ripping through her, slick seeping around his rigid length and coating his knot and balls as he buried himself fiercely in her warmth, her walls clamping and gripping him as she bore down wantonly, needing more – needing to feel him in her completely.

"Yes, Killian...Alpha, please..." she cried, her desperation climbing into satisfied ecstasy as he growled and pulled her roughly onto his knot, every nerve in his cock on fire as her walls stretched and sealed around him, his seed pumping triumphantly into every last inch of her as she writhed and moaned, her weight falling limply into the security of his arms.

He'd forgotten where he was, his world narrowed to the aching grip of her sex around him, to the primal satisfaction of having filled and knotted her, their hearts racing together in his ears, his vision a dark explosion of color and lights and the beautiful flicker of the pulse in her neck as his teeth rested on her scent gland...her words finally sinking into his awareness.

"Killian," she whispered, stroking the back of his head and calling him back to her, back from the tight grip his teeth held over her neck, just shy of puncturing her gland – gods, if he'd been any nearer to his rut, he would have claimed her like an animal, here against the wall.

"Emma," he muttered, drawing his mouth from the delicious taste of her skin and letting his forehead thump against her chest. "I'm sorry, love, I forgot myself, I – "

"Come by tonight, for dinner?" she asked, and though her words were quiet, pressed against his hair, he could find no uncertainty in them, no hesitation in her voice.

He closed his eyes against her, afraid to breathe in, to shatter the fragile hope blooming in his chest that perhaps he hadn't fucked things up completely – that maybe she was finally ready for something more, as he was.

"Aye," he murmured, adjusting their joined bodies slightly so he could see the luminous green of her eyes, the beautiful flush that filled her cheeks. "I'd like that very much, and, Swan..."

"Yeah?"

"I am sorry, for losing myself a bit there."

"Don't be," she soothed, her legs tightening around him, his knot still filling her pleasantly as the last of his essence leaked into her. "I'm tired of just...I'm tired of running from this, you know? I can't even wash my damn sheets..."

He chuckled, heart soaring at her words.

"I understand, love – if I didn't have to work side by side with your father, I'd proudly wear your scent on me as long as possible. I only want you to be certain, Emma, to be happy."

"I am happy," she assured him, pressing her lips to his skin and running her fingers lightly across the firm breadth of his shoulders, "right here, with you."

He knew he wouldn't be able to keep the flush or the grin from his cheeks when he returned to the office, her words sating every part of him.

"I'll see you for dinner tonight then, love. Anything I should bring?"

"A toothbrush," she teased, her chest filling with warmth at the feel of his smile pressed to her skin. "I've got a spot for it next to mine."