A/N: just a little extended missing make-out session on Emma's bed from the finale. So, yeah…here's some fluff.
She loves him. The look in her eyes when he died, the desperation in her voice as she tore into the loft in search of him, the light behind her eyes as she launched herself into his arms, and the giggles, oh…they are a dead giveaway. Her confession of thanks, while not what he expected (or dare dreamed) to hear, merely a placeholder for what he knows she wanted to say, content in waiting until the time will be right. But now, with her forehead pressed against his, knees pressed tightly against his waist, all he can think of is how much he wants, no, needs to kiss her.
His fingers still tingling somewhat from her fierce grip as she held him against the bed, he runs his hand along the length of her thigh until he finds her waist under the leather, pulling her closer as he angles his head to slant his lips over hers. Her response is immediate, her hand on his neck gripping tightly as she anchors herself, her hips sliding forward to rut against him in such a way that he begins to feel much like the deckhand version of himself, completely in awe and absolute putty in the hands of this woman.
The taste of her lips, newly wetted by her tongue mere minutes before, sweet and intoxicating as he loses himself in the warmth of her mouth, desperation for more than their current location in her bedroom with no doors allows surging steadily through his veins. Always the pirate, he decides to test her willingness to push the boundaries and begins to lean back, tugging lightly on her lower lip as he urges her to follow, hoping she will let him lead (just this once). He barely quells his groan of pleasure when she does, her chest falling against his as they settle back on the mattress, the sound of leather sliding against leather as she shifts above him loud in his ears.
His hand at her waist moves higher, pressing at the space between her shoulder blades as he takes her lips again, coaxing them lightly until his tongue meets hers in a sensual slide, both exploring newly uncharted waters in their slow burn of a love affair. Unable to quell the desire to move, he lifts his hips beneath her just enough to brush against her, the contact making her gasp against his lips as she presses back down in return.
"Emma…"
Her lips slide against his again, silencing him, stoking the fire burning under his skin as she moves above him, slowly as if she is savoring every push and pull. The scratch of her fingernails against the back of his scalp feels so good his neck arches in pleasure, his mouth breaking contact with her lips as his head pushes deeper into the pillow under her hand. Her lips find a new home on his jaw, nipping and soothing as she works her way across, the press of her nose against his ear sending shivers down his spine.
"Emma? Hook? We…uh…we've got a few things we still need to take care of!"
He groans against her cheek, the sound of David's voice from below like a splash of cold water over them both.
"Love, your father is really not my favorite person of late."
She laughs as she slowly rolls off of him to settle beside him on the mattress, her hand searching for his to hold between them, a moment needed for both before they should be in the presence of others.
"Well, at least you get to hold his killing of you over his head for the rest of our lives."
"Aye, there is that."
"Killian?"
"Swan."
"Please make fun of him for the eyeliner, too."