First of all, thank you to everybody who read this and especially to those who took the time to review. I hope you enjoy to see how the journey goes on.
We have left off our brand new couple at a table at Granny's on the evening of the naming celebration, when Hook has just suggested to leave... find out which destination he has in mind.
Chapter 2:
Because You Want Me
Had she just heard right? Come on, Swan; it's time we take our leave.
Emma was taken completely by surprise at this sudden suggestion. She'd just started to enjoy their sitting together, flirting, doing the couple dance for the first time, and she was amazed at how comfortable it felt; how easily she'd slipped on the new situation. It felt like a fancy pair of gloves that she'd secretly tried on countless times, but never dared to wear, only to find out now that they fit perfectly... were exactly right... not ridiculous at all. She wanted to revel in it, sit close to him without being anxious of sitting too close; maybe even lean into him a little and run her hand up and down his arm, completely uncaring if anyone watched. But then again... she looked into his shining blue eyes, saw the adorably adoring smile on his face – bare of any teasing now – and it simply took her breath away, hitting her right in the pit of her stomach. In that moment, she forgot where she was. Time and place, or who else was present was irrelevant. She forgot what she'd wanted to say or even how to breathe. All she wanted now was to be alone with him – to find out how perfectly that glove really fit. Obviously, he was having similar thoughts judging by his sudden suggestion that they should go.
"Leave?" she echoed feebly and thought: Oh God, this is really happening!
Hook nodded. "It's been a long day." He waved his hand. "Days." She still saw no teasing, no lewdness on his face. Obviously, he was determined to be discreet. I'm always a gentleman.
"Okay," Emma replied and swallowed her agitation. With some effort she slipped out of the booth, suddenly feeling clumsier than ever, her palms sweating. Her legs didn't seem so firm right now, and she wasn't sure if that was due to the strain she'd gone through in the last hours – no, Hook was right; it had been days, at least for them – or if the reason for her wobbly legs was the eager anticipation she felt, the expectancy of something exciting and unspeakably sweet, something wonderful yet delightfully dangerous. The more she thought of it, the shakier her legs seemed to become. Emma tried to concentrate on just setting one foot in front of the other step-by-step, nodding her good nights to the left and to the right while shaking a few hands. She hardly noticed what she was saying to whom, just hoping it made at least some sense. She probably looked like an idiot, but she reasoned that she didn't really care. Let them think what they wanted.
Hook followed her, pleasantly surprised at how many respectful, even friendly nods were thrown his way. He was quick enough to open the door for Emma, and they wordlessly left the diner and stepped out into the cold again, though neither of them really felt it. They were both too enveloped in their warm, fuzzy bubble to be bothered by it. They walked in silence; the sleeve of her red jacket brushing against his heavy leather coat was their only point of contact. It could've been any other evening in Storybrooke with the pirate walking beside the sheriff as usual – an onlooker might not even realize they were a couple – but the secret understanding which had always hung between them had reached a new level.
Slowly, shoulder by shoulder, they crossed the small outdoor patio, passing by their table. Emma smiled to herself, replaying their talk... their kiss in her head. She could still taste his lips on hers and feel his hand in her hair, his delicate tongue carefully exploring her mouth. She knew that many, many more kisses would follow, but she also knew that she would never forget this one and how it had felt – the first one deliberately given and shared, not born from an overload of emotions and confusion in a surreal, hostile surrounding. This one had been unspeakably careful, soft and sweet, but also passionate, full of understanding and happiness – no, more than happiness; pure bliss. At the same time, it'd held so many promises: promises of home, of love, a future... even if she knew damn well that it wouldn't be all sunshine and roses.
Hook sensed that Emma had slowed her step a bit and glanced at her from the side. That one look was enough for him to know what she was thinking. For him, it was simply written all over her face, and to see that happiness in her features made his heart dance and ache with the love he felt for this woman. And there was more. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming desire well up inside of him that ran like a bolt of lightning through his whole body and fogged his sight. He'd always more than "fancied" her – physically as well as for her spirit and intellect – but the fact that he now knew they would take that ultimate step soon and be really and truly united made his desire all the more powerful. It cost him all the self-control he could muster to stay calm now. Still, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms again, run his hand through her golden hair and kiss her dizzy. He knew he easily couldhave, had he the intention to, but he made no such move. Hook had learned over the course of three hundred restless years every way there was to make a woman lose her senses in his arms and give in to him easily, even make her beg him to take her, but that was not what he wanted for this woman; at least not for the first time they would finally become one. He loved Emma Swan with all his heart and soul, and his promise of no trickery would remain until the final step. Until she was ready.
He took a deep breath and ran his hand over his mouth unconsciously, reveling in her dreamy expression once more. Tentatively, but at the same time completely naturally, Emma put her hand on his leather-clad shoulder. He enjoyed the feeling and flashed her one of his heart-stopping smiles from the side.
"Are you going to tell me what David wanted?" she asked with an almost challenging smile. "And what Mary Margaret told you?"
"Quite persistent, aren't we?" he teased. He didn't want to look like he was bragging about her father and mother apologizing to him; like always when someone addressed him "being good" or a hero, it embarrassed him. He wasn't used to that yet and had never been looking for that kind of glory either. "Let's just say we had a little heart-to-heart talk." He waved his hand nonchalantly. "Came clean about a few things."
Emma nudged him playfully. More intimate gestures, he was thrilled to notice. "He likes you," she declared and could barely hide how happy that made her. "They both do."
Hook tilted his head and shrugged. "I'm a very amiable fellow," he commented smoothly, "it just took them a tad longer to notice." But Emma could see how pleased he was himself that he seemed to be winning over her parents at last. Of course, he couldn't help but add with a cheeky grin: "Must run in the family, too."
She chuckled and decided not to poke any further and just leave it at that. Again, she kind of got lost in simply looking at him, like she was just now really seeing him for the first time. He'd been something like her ever-present shadow for so long – quiet sometimes, and sometimes oh so irritating; infuriating even... but always there, tenacious, reliable and imperturbable. She'd gotten used to it, just like everybody else in Storybrooke seemed to. Even if he sometimes said inconvenient things to her that challenged and forced her to question herself, her own goals and beliefs, she'd never felt uncomfortable in his presence. In fact, she'd actually come to really appreciate it and had felt increasingly like something was missing when he wasn't around. Like earlier, when she'd been sitting inside Granny's with her parents and baby brother and all the other residents of Storybrooke – and suddenly she'd noticed that the scenery just wasn't complete, and that something didn't feel right. Home, she thought, and for the first time she really, fully realized that he was part of that feeling, part of that home.
"What is it?" Hook's voice shook her from her reverie, and it took her a few seconds to focus on his face again; her gaze had drifted off somehow.
Emma smiled and shook her head. "Nothing."
He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head a little forward. "And why are you looking at me like that?" He grinned and waved his hand. "Not that I would dare complain."
She opened her mouth, but before the words could tumble out – there will be a perfect time and place for that, she thought vaguely– she just shrugged and said lightly; "Well, I told you I wouldn't take my eyes off of you."
"Ah." He nodded. "Aye, that you did. Alas, they did wander astray somewhere along the way..." he teased.
Emma sighed and inclined her head a bit, looking at him with a little sheepish smile from under her long eyelashes. "Yeah..." Her smile faded into a more serious look, a faint memory of a despicable monstrous creature crossed her mind: her almost-fiancé. But then, she guessed she couldn't be held responsible for that misstep – Pan's curse and the forgetting spell were to blame for her eyes' momentary detour. "Yours never did."
He shook his head solemnly. "Not for one minute."
They'd moved on slowly and now reached the little fence separating Granny's property from the road. Emma's heart started to beat faster as she eyed the path which would take them in the direction of Granny's side entrance, leading directly to the guest rooms where she was sure they were headed. She started to question how she would manage to even walk straight, so dizzy was her head starting to feel. Every step she would be taking now would shorten the distance between being out here in the chilly open and finally being alone with Hook in the cocooning warmth of his bedroom. His bedroom! God, the thought alone made more than a little warmth spread from the depth of her belly throughout her whole body – it was more of an inferno. But when she turned to the right, she was surprised to slightly bump into his leather-clad front as he turned in the opposite direction. He caught her left elbow in his hand, and she let out a little involuntary gasp.
"Where are we going?" Emma asked with a slight furrow of her brow.
Hook seemed genuinely confused. "Why, I'm seeing you safely to your vessel, of course," he replied, and she thought she'd heard wrong and looked at him with wide, startled eyes. "Ah... unless you'd prefer me to escort you home, of course," he went on quickly, sensing but not understanding Emma's bewilderment, and added; "which I reckoned is a bit too distanced to walk at night."
She was totally puzzled. "But... but I thought... we..." she stuttered, unable to form a coherent sentence, and then finally fell silent, feeling silly. A warm blush crept slowly over her face. Had she made a complete idiot of herself now by entirely misinterpreting his intentions?
Suddenly, the scales fell from his eyes and Hook realized in absolute disbelief what his Swan's intention had been; obviously, she'd been ready and willing to give herself completely to him tonight already – something he never would've dared to expect, even with the development their relationship had already taken. But to see in her wide green eyes that his lady had really sincerely been open to that, filled him with awe and simply took his breath away. He smiled and looked at her long and longingly, raised his left arm and smoothed out her hair ever-so-tenderly with his hook. Emma closed her eyes involuntarily for the fraction of a second at the familiar gesture.
"Believe me, love," he said in a soft, yet hoarse voice, "I would be more than thrilled to shower you with my..." – he paused for a second to scratch behind his ear – "...prompt attentions..." – and at that point, he couldn't help but run his tongue over his lower lip, it was stronger than him – "...but I presumed after those last eventful and exhausting days you'd prefer to spend the night at home with your family... your loved ones," he added.
Emma scrutinized him closely, still in disbelief that obviously he was not planning to pluck that sweet apple ready to fall into his open hand. She could see in his expressive, beautiful eyes what a great amount of self-control this was obviously costing him, and she realized that in spite of all his chasing, all his invading her personal space and throwing innuendos... despite all his many displays of lewdness, Killian Jones was indeed a gentleman and was once again putting her first, pushing aside his own wishes and desires that were certainly churning underneath his calm surface. This touched her beyond anything.
Emma smiled with shining eyes and surprised him by slowly and deliberately lacing her right arm through his left, something she had never done before. It was a gesture that seemed oddly old-fashioned, but was all the more endearing as it came from Emma tough-lass Swan. She rested her hand firmly on the leather sheath that held his hook. Its surface felt cool and rough, but at the same time smooth against her fingertips, the warmth of his skin seeping through it. He looked down at her hand and up into her eyes, mouth open and eyebrows raised in question, and she smiled openly at him and simply said: "I do."
Hook's face was a mirror of all the emotions flooding through him while in his mind flashbacks were replaying all the times she had pushed him away, denied her feelings, fled from him, from them.
In Neverland: "...a one-time thing..."
In New York: "...a guy I love..."
In Storybrooke: "I'm not embracing anything!"
"I can't trust you now, how can I?"
"So tell me, what is it? Why you're so scared to stay? I think it's because you can see a future here, a happy one."
"Let me guess – with you?"
"Next time you try to take my power away, why don't you try to enchant the lips of someone I'll actually kiss?"
"I was never a part of any of this."
Her words had hurt, every single time, although he'd done his best to hide it because he'd always known that pushing her towards anything she wasn't really ready for would never work out. Emma Swan had to overcome her fears and doubts all by herself and find out what she really wanted, allow herself to be happy and finally believe that it hope and happiness was possible for her. All he could do was stand by her side and show her that he would always have her back and be there for her, no matter what, no matter how hard she tried to push him away. Show her that he was not expecting anything in return from her and that he was putting her first, always.
And now there she was, with her "I do" practically telling him that she'd come to see him as an equivalent for home, family... and loved ones. She wanted to be with him, she really did. After having gone through an ordeal with him – after having won another battle, having saved their world once more – she'd left his side to run to her family. But now that she'd come clean with her parents, her son and with finding her home here in Storybrooke, she'd come to him. His presence was the one she was looking for at the end of the day, and after all had been said and done and concluded, all she wanted now was to be with him – and she was not afraid anymore to admit to that.
Hook swallowed thickly – once, twice... there was a huge lump in his throat that left him almost speechless; something he really wasn't used to, like his own croaky voice almost failing him. "Are you sure, Swan?"
Emma's confident smile never faltered. "I haven't been so sure about anything... in a long, long time," she told him sincerely.
She saw that her cutthroat ruffian of a pirate was in danger of being overwhelmed by his emotions and could only try to imagine what her response meant to him. The air between them was heavily loaded with unspoken words and thickly swirling with emotions. Emma didn't want to ruin the moment somehow by burdening it with too much weight, so she decided to add a light note – something that usually was his specialty and never had failed to make her smile, even in her darkest hours. She tilted her head and playfully batted her eyelashes.
"Besides... you might not remember it, but I do; you still owe me a nightcap." She smiled at him flirtatiously, almost encouragingly, shaking her head inwardly at the absurdity of the situation. In her wildest dreams she would never have imagined that one day she'd have to be the one to encourage Killian it's-about-bloody-time Jones to finally make a pass at her. "I've been waiting for it for decades," she added.
Hook looked down at her hand on his arm again with a little, almost shy laugh, then nodded slowly. When he looked at her again, his blue eyes were clear and focused; he looked at her from under his twitching eyebrows and tilted his head in a slight bow, swaying out his right arm invitingly towards the side entrance of Granny's. "Well, in that case... would you be inclined to honor me with your presence in my humble quarters?"
Emma's heart skipped a beat, and she deliberately picked up his sometimes old-fashioned way of talking that held its very own appeal. "I'd be delighted."
He answered with a pleased smile and turned away from her, leading the way towards the side entrance of the diner and up the stairs with Emma following him closely. He was glad that for a few moments she couldn't see his face and he had the chance to regain his composure a little. He rubbed his hand over his mouth and let out a deep breath. So, this was actually happening? After all this time of longing, chasing and fighting for her affection, he almost couldn't believe that he finally had her – and she was going to be his completely. Suddenly, his nerves were fluttering and he almost tripped on the stairs. Damn, he chastised himself mentally, pull yourself together, mate. Act like a man and don't make a twit of yourself!
Emma on the other hand could tell from the way he carefully set his steps on the stairs that his usual swagger seemed to fail him, but rather than turn her off, it touched a string deep inside her, just as it did every time he let her see his vulnerable side. Her heart was hammering so fast in her chest that she could feel it in her throat. Although she had told him the truth – she was indeed sure she was doing the right thing – that meant by no means she was calm. The heat she'd felt already before in her stomach had been simmering and boiling and spreading throughout her whole body now, pulsating in every nerve, waiting to erupt. She had an idea that the eruption would be earth shattering. That was enough to make her shiver, in spite of the heat.
They reached the door of Hook's guest room and he pulled a key out of one of the pockets of his coat. For a moment, he looked down at the small key in his ringed hand and threw a questioning glance at Emma. She smiled, and he inserted the key into the keyhole; he had to fumble a bit to turn it and open the door – his fingers were skilled in many ways, but his hand was not used to tiny keys like that, and especially now he was clumsier than ever. Again, Emma was touched beyond anything by his obvious nervousness, and she asked herself where the dashing rapscallion had gone.
Finally they entered the room and Hook closed the door carefully behind them, reaching out to switch on the light. It still seemed a bit like suspicious magic to him, but he'd learned to adapt to that part of this realm very quickly. The ceiling lamp wasn't very strong though, so the small bedroom was only dimly lit. Automatically, Emma's eyes darted over to the bed that was neatly made – she hadn't it expected anything less from a man who'd lived in the restricted limits of a ship for centuries. He noticed that his gaze followed hers, and suddenly she blushed, the butterflies in her stomach going in complete uproar.
"Here we are," he said and waved his hand in a gesture that encompassed the room. "Humble, as I said."
"We are here," she replied and swallowed. "That's enough, I'd say."
He let out a nervous, yet pleased little laugh. For a moment, they just stood there in utter silence maybe only two feet apart, facing each other. But despite the thrumming, vibrating air, there was no awkwardness between them. Still, Hook was hesitating, struggling with himself about what to do next, and that meant something: how to handle a lass in an amorous encounter had surely never been a problem for him. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms now, kiss her and make her truly his in every way. He knew and felt that Emma had decided to open up to him – had stopped her running away from everything including him, especially him – but there was still a part of him that worried that she might shy back again. After all, she was tired and emotionally agitated like churning waters, and maybe tomorrow she would regret it if she stayed with him now. How could he risk that?
Emma looked at him and instinctively sensed what he was feeling, and she couldn't really blame him for it. She did the only thing she could think of and pulled off her jacket. That red leather jacket had become so much of an armor for her, but with him, she didn't need that any longer. She flung it carelessly over the time-worn chair standing beside the door.
Hook got her message; alas, he still hesitated. He raised his hand, took one strand of her hair and let it run through his fingers almost absentmindedly, his intense blue eyes searching hers. Her eyes darted down to his ringed fingers playing with her hair, and she caught herself thinking Touch me already! His voice was rough when he finally spoke; "Emma... I don't want you to think that I'm just after..." he paused, looking for the right words, and she melted a little more inside "...that I'm not..."
"That you're not in this for the long haul?" she interrupted, and he had to suppress a nervous little laugh. Of course, she was oblivious to the fact that she'd used the exact same words he had said to Neal over a year ago, when they'd come back from Neverland and he'd promised his friend to back off for the sake of Henry, for the sake of giving the boy's parents a fair shot. He just nodded, and she went on. "And I don't want you to think that I'm..." she shrugged, looking for the right word herself now "...easy to get." She looked at him and smiled. "I guess we've both sort of spent the last two years proving exactly the opposite, so there really shouldn't be anything to worry about."
He snorted a little laugh and tilted his head. "Aye, that we have."
"So, then..." Emma drew a deep breath and took a step nearer; this time she being the one to shamelessly invade his personal space, tired of waiting. "Are you just gonna stand there and give me more reasons why I should not be here with you right now, or are you gonna take off that coat and give me some of those... attentions you mentioned?"
She had her head slightly tilted down and threw him a look from under her long eyelashes, combined with a breathtakingly suggestive little smile that made him want to kiss it roughly off of her lips. Hook couldn't believe that she actually bit her lower lip a little. He wasn't sure if she'd done it on purpose, but it was a gesture that immediately made his blood boil even more than it already did. Slowly, he started to feel a little uncomfortable in his tight leather pants. Only once had he seen her act like that: back on the Jolly Roger, dressed as a bar wench, when she'd seduced the hell out of his drunken past self while he'd helplessly and furiously looked on – until that crazy moment when he'd knocked out that blatantly shameless bastard that was no one else than himself. This time, this realm, this place nobody was going to interrupt them. No, there was no way he was going to let her leave tonight.
He swallowed a hard lump in his throat before he spoke. His mouth was as dry as gunpowder, and he rolled his tongue through it a few times; still, he thought he would probably not even be able to utter a word, but then suddenly they fell from his lips so easily. "As you wish."
Emma averted her eyes, suddenly feeling unusually shy in spite of her earlier dash. She remembered when he first said those words to her back in Neverland, and later a second time on his ship, and although on both occasions they'd thrown her off track for a split second, she'd been sure back then that it had just been a weird coincidence. He was a three hundred years old pirate, for Heaven's sake, there was no way he could have the slightest idea about a stupid movie from her childhood, about another dashing rapscallion of a pirate dressed in black who used those three words instead of actually saying... something else. Something she couldn't, didn't even dare to think about yet because it was frighteningly powerful and indeed more than she could handle right now. Just set one foot in front of the other.
When she looked away from him, Hook saw that something was going through her mind, and for a moment he was absurdly afraid she might pull back again. But then the moment passed, and her green eyes locked with his once again, and he'd be damned if she wasn't daring him now to live up to his words. Give me some of those... attentions. Bloody hell, she was begging for it, and she knew what she was doing. He decided to throw overboard all what was left of his scruples in the light of her obvious, utter conviction and determination. Immediately, he felt his old self-confidence engulf him, and he hooked his thumb in his belt in that nonchalant pose of his. He couldn't help the devilish grin that was creeping over his face as the tip of his wicked tongue slowly moistened his lower lip. Emma noticed both and almost magically her gaze was fixed on his mouth. She could barely suppress a quivery sound escaping her throat; that move of his tongue shot right into the pit of her stomach and then deeper. Look who's found his dashing rapscallion again, she thought.
He tilted his head, and his eyebrow quirked teasingly. "I knew I was right." Even his voice sounded almost like his nonchalant old self again: a little smug, a little teasing, a little hoarse, and God help her, he even popped the 't' a little. She felt her toes curl.
Emma frowned. "About what?" She thought for a moment that, in fact, he'd been pretty much right about most things he'd ever said to her, but she had no clue what particular occasion he was referring to right now. But, of course, her mind was clouded right now; her focus was very narrowed, and she could barely concentrate on anything else besides what was right before her, only a few inches away, in the middle of her personal space, right where he belonged: an insanely handsome, hellishly hot, dangerously sexy and unspeakably lovable at the same time pirate. Her pirate.
"I happen to recall in Neverland I told you I would win your heart," Hook explained with a grin and a little shrug, "and that it wouldn't be because of any trickery, but because you would want me."
She smiled and closed her eyes for a moment, then she nodded. "Yes, you were right about that," she confirmed without any hesitation.
"Let me hear it," he demanded. She knew he was teasing her in his typical, smug way, but she also knew that a part of him really needed to hear it – and he deserved to hear it. This was nothing like his fishing for compliments in Neverland – Tell me something, love... in these stories, what was I like? Other than a villain? Handsome, I gather? No, this was different. He'd gone to the end of the world for her, even to the end of time, had even crossed the lines between the worlds. He'd risked his life for her and given up everything that had ever meant anything to him – his quest for revenge and his ship which had been his home – and she'd hardly ever shown him that she truly appreciated that, or even that she acknowledged it. In fact, she'd only given him displays of mistrust when they should've been past that for a long time.
She cocked her head a little to the side; an almost girlish gesture that touched something deep inside him. Then she drew a deep breath. Leap of faith, she thought and said: "Killian Jones... Hook." She still smiled at him; a serious smile without any teasing. "You have won my heart," she told him solemnly, and she was surprised herself how easily that had come out – it hadn't been difficult at all to admit it to him, to lay her heart on the line like that; not half as difficult as it had been to admit it to herself. He was looking at her expectantly, with wide blue eyes, his lips slightly parted, as if he was waiting for more. She shook her head and added: "And it was not because of any trickery."
His eyes glittered, his eyebrows shot up, and he pursed his lips lips into that suggestive smile of his. "And...?"
That devil! There was the pirate again. Emma rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You're gonna make me say it?"
He winked with a wicked gleam in his eyes which seemed to burn right into her soul. "Humour me, love." It was said lightly, but she noticed again that there was also a secret urge underneath his flirting tone, the faint rest of insecurity and need for confirmation. Emma thought back to all the times she'd pushed him away... made him understand that she didn't want him. She knew she really hadn't appreciated him very much until recently – or more, she had appreciated him but had been anxious not to show it to him. More than anything, she'd been taking him and his constant pursuit for granted. Though she was making it pretty obvious now by practically telling him she wanted to stay with him tonight, she knew he deserved to actually hear it.
For a split second, Emma's gaze dropped lower and lingered on his full lips before she looked up into his eyes again without blinking. She smiled. "And... I want you." His face lit up even more, if possible. She leaned forward, putting both of her hands on his chest, feeling the cool, smooth leather of his vest under her palms, but also feeling the beating of his heart which seemed to be just as frenzied as her own. She brought her lips closely to his right ear and whispered, "So badly."
When she slowly drew back, her cheek caressed his and the sensation of his scruff grazing her skin sent the most delightful shiver down her spine. She felt his jaw tighten and his whole body tense, and she knew he was just barely holding back the volcano underneath the nonchalant surface, on the verge of letting go into something very powerful, overwhelming and promisingly dangerous. She swallowed hard and finally looked into his eyes again. Their faces were so close that their noses were almost touching. She could feel his breath on her face and see the smile dancing in his eyes.
He whispered against her lips in a raucous voice, "About bloody time."
Emma chuckled softly when she remembered the first time – what seemed like ages ago – Hook had uttered those words to her; not more than an inappropriate and infuriatingly suggestive line then, but so accurate now. She heard the dry rustle of the long folds of his leather coat when he finally shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor without taking his eyes off of hers for a second, and without moving away from her so much as an inch; her hands still rested on his chest. Even if she had wanted to – which she didn't – she simply wouldn't have been able to step away from him now. Not one single step. She was a hopeless goner.
She was mesmerized, hypnotized by the intense look in his eyes that held her prisoner. She'd be damned if she was able to stand on her feet one minute longer, so shaky did her knees feel, so dizzy was her head. Thankfully, she didn't have to, because just when she thought she couldn't trust her legs any longer to hold her upright, she felt more than she saw – because her gaze was still fixed on his face – how he wrapped his left arm tightly around her waist, the hard steel of his hook pressing into her spine, her hip.
Emma wouldn't have imagined that it was possible for her heart to beat any faster, any louder... but it did. When he pulled her body closer to his with a little thrust of his hips – raw, primal – she let out a tiny gasp and spread her fingers like wings, her palms still on his chest. She felt his eyes burning deep down to the bottom of her soul, slowly peeling off her every layer until she was bare before him, even if she was still fully clothed. She was aware of how down her walls truly were – crumbled, in fact, destroyed. And the strangest and best thing about that fact was that she didn't care one bit. She didn't need them any more.
Hook's unblinking gaze was locked with hers now. He held her firmly and raised his hand to her face, his fingers brushing one blonde lock away from her cheek, lingering on her jawbone like feathers while his ringed thumb traced her lower lip achingly slowly. The touch electrified her even more and did funny things to her stomach.
"So, have me," he purred in a voice so deep it hummed low in her belly.
Don't hate me for making the cut here... your reviews motivate me to update quickly ;)
Thank you to my wonderful editor emeraldromance - I know you're even too busy to update your own stories (I'm sorely missing that!), and you still took the time to smooth out mine.
And thanks to my muse Silvia - we do make quite the team!