I hope a few of you are still on board and are interested to see how this goes on. Thanks for that and for the kind reviews - they are much appreciated. So, where were we? Ah, yes.

We've left off right after Emma confessed to Hook that he has won her heart without any trickery, and that she indeed wants him - "so badly."

To which he had given her the only adapt response: "So, have me..."

Chapter 3:

You'll Feel It

Hook just kept holding her though; he didn't move in any further. He just left it up to her and her alone – again, like he'd already done a few times that evening – to take the next step. She'd once said to Mary Margaret that she wasn't used to someone putting her first, and now she realized that since she'd met this man, he'd been doing little else than just exactly that, always. Emma smiled as she leaned forward again, standing a little on the balls of her feet and – after one last glance at his slightly parted, waiting lips – closed her eyes and kissed him again. This kiss was different than the one on Granny's porch; it was more like their Neverland kiss, but this time it felt real. Their mouths collided passionately, breathlessly, opening up as soon as they touched. They were swaying back and forth while teeth were grazing lips, tongues exploring each other.

Her left arm slid around his trim waist and she moved into him even closer – not getting enough of the nearness – while her right hand crept up to the nape of his neck, messing up his always unruly hair that felt so smooth to the touch. Hook cradled her head in his hand. His fingers combed through those silky, golden locks which had attracted him from that very first day on the beanstalk, and which he'd never been able to resist touching whenever the occasion arose. Unlike before – outside on Granny's porch – he was much more confident now and less afraid to take control. His fingers grasped a thick strand of her hair and pulled her head back a little, pushing his head forward, and Emma followed his demand eagerly, surrendering to him completely now as he claimed her mouth with a fierceness that left her breathless. His hook rested on the small of her back, pulling her soft body into his hard one, and for the first time she felt that he definitely was as ready for her as she was for him. And suddenly, a teasing memory of his voice sounded in her head: When I jab you with my sword, you'll feel it.

Emma's fingers curled in his hair as if they had a will of their own, tugging at it roughly and impatiently. God, how she wanted to feel it. Almost abruptly, she broke the kiss, slightly pushing him away. For a moment he was taken aback, but then she looked at him with glittering eyes and brought her hands to the clasps of his leather vest. "I always wanted to know how these work," she breathed, "it looks so complicated..." With a sly grin, she started to unfasten the ornate metal clasps as if she'd done it a hundred times before, one by one.

Hook swallowed hard and commented in a rough voice; "You appear to be quite a natural, love..."

Emma laughed softly, her voice smoky and hoarse. "I've heard that before..."

When she'd completely undone all the clasps, she tried to pull the vest down over his shoulders, but something was in the way. Hook chuckled softly at her display of impatience and brought both his hand and his hook to his belt, unbuckling it with a few expert moves. It fell to the floor with a loud clanging noise, then he shrugged off the vest and let it fall to the floor, too. As usual, his shirt was more unbuttoned than buttoned, and Emma's hands seemed to have a will of their own as they went up to his chest, sliding into the inviting opening of the garment, running over his warm, bare skin for the first time. It felt better than she'd ever imagined – and she'd secretly imagined many times how that would feel. Emma reveled in the feeling of his abundant chest hair against the soft, delicate skin of her palms, and he automatically arched his back with a sigh, aching for more of her touch.

She leaned forward and kissed the side of his throat, tugging with her teeth at the sensitive skin and inhaling his scent. His skin was warm and smooth, and he smelled like heaven and salt and sea and so very manly; it made her even dizzier. Her soft mouth slid further down to his chest while she started to completely unbutton his shirt. Hook entangled his fingers in her hair, threw back his head and groaned. "Emma... you have no idea what you're doing to me..."

She looked at him with sparkling green eyes. "Why don't you show me?" With a swift move, she pulled the tight grey sweater over her head and had him gasping at the sight of her bare torso, her breasts only covered by something that seemed to be a very tiny, strange-looking white bodice. He would gladly deal with that later. He had his now unbuttoned shirt still on, but it fell open, and she caught her first glance at how perfectly his dark body hair was spread over his well-toned upper body, trailing down over his flat stomach and his neatly defined abs until it disappeared in the waist of his black leather pants, and – Holy Mother of God – they were held by black leather laces. Unconsciously, her fingers played in the air as she imagined unlacing them. Her gaze was fixed on those cords, mesmerized, and she sucked on her bottom lip while imagining undoing them with her teeth. Almost embarrassed about her own boldness, she averted her eyes.

He enjoyed her obvious appreciation for a moment before he stepped back and gripped his hook, making a move to take it off. Emma recognized immediately what he was going to do and stopped him, firmly putting her hand over his. "No, please don't," she demanded quickly. "I said I want you, and I meant every bit of you. Just the way you are."

He tilted his head a little, almost shaking it slightly. "Emma... I don't want to risk hurting you..."

She shook her head firmly, pulled his hand away and caressed the steel of the hook with her other hand – just as she'd already done once before, but of course he wasn't aware of it, because that had been his past self. "I have seen how gentle you can be when you use it," she told him softly. "I know you're not going to hurt me."

Hook scratched slowly behind his ear, a slightly embarrassed gesture. "Love, I'm afraid I won't be able to... control myself very much." She looked at him questioningly, and he motioned his hand between them in an all-encompassing move. "This might get a little..." he tilted his head "...wild."

Emma drew in a sharp breath at the promising sound of his words. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse. "But I don't want you to control yourself," she replied, and he scrutinized her closely, with fascination in his eyes. She blushed but went on firmly. "I want you to... get carried away. Carry me away. No bounds. No holds barred." She saw his eyes blaze with delight, and before she could control herself she added, "You know, there is something weirdly sexy about that hook."

For a few seconds, neither of them made a move, and he swallowed hard. Then, he slowly reached out with his left arm and slid the tip of the hook slowly, carefully into the waistband of her jeans. She could feel the cold steel on her skin and watched with fascination. The sight of his dangerous trademark attachment directly on her bare skin along with the sensation of the cold steel on her lower belly did funny things to her. When she looked up at his face again, she saw that he was looking directly into her eyes with a slight, almost diabolical smile tugging at the corners of his beautiful mouth. Slowly, he pulled her towards him again by the waistband of her jeans, eyeing her like an exquisite catch he had just gaffed with his hook.

"Is there, now?" he rasped in a low voice.

Emma swallowed, her gaze wandering down from his eyes to linger on his slightly parted sinful lips that were once more moistened by his wicked tongue. Then, her eyes darted up to his again and she saw how he looked at her: an almost dangerous, burning gaze from predator's eyes, ready to strike on his prey, but full of love and tenderness all at the same time. She trusted him completely.

"Take me to bed, Killian," she replied breathlessly.

With a sudden move that made her gasp, he swept her up into his arms. His eyes never leaving hers, she had a bout of déjà-vu, thinking of how his past self had picked her up to take her to his ship. But he'd been different then – half-drunk and a little clumsy, making it all too easy for her to play him exactly how she needed. This time, Killian Jones was completely sober and in absolute control of the situation. Automatically, her arms went around his neck.

In a rough voice he told her, "Whatever the princess desires, the princess gets."

Just the sound of his voice made all the muscles in her lower belly clench. With three determined steps, he crossed the small room, effortlessly carrying her weight in his strong arms. When he reached the bed, he put her down carefully and sat beside her. His hooked arm was still wrapped around her tightly and his hand was at the back of her head, holding her firmly in place, devouring her mouth with demanding kisses she eagerly returned.

Emma tugged at his shirt impatiently, finally managing to lower it down over his shoulders. He released her from his grip long enough to shrug it off and used his hand to slide it over his hook. She drank in the sight of him for a long moment, seeing his bare arms for the first time. His shoulders were broad and firm, and his arms well-toned with a sprinkle of dark hair on his right forearm; the left forearm was covered almost up to the elbow with the rigid black leather sheath of the hook. Emma eyed it curiously; she just had to reach out and touch it.

Hook saw her appreciative glance and reveled in it although he knew damn well how gorgeous he was – devilishly handsome, as he never tired to point out. But still, her admiration made him feel like he could walk on water. He lifted his left arm and slowly, carefully, ran his hook from her bare right shoulder down over her front and along the outer side of her breast. He could see her shiver, and much to his further delight, he could clearly see the outline of her peak sharpen and point through the sheer material of her tiny bodice in reaction to his touch. His hand went for the button of her jeans and – as he'd perfected the art of undoing buttons one-handed over the decades – he had it open in the blink of an eye.

Emma's green gaze had been following the trail of his hook as if hypnotized, and she felt a burning desire pool between her legs like hot liquid lead. He tugged at her jeans and she lifted her hips from the mattress so he could pull them down and finally off after getting rid of her boots first. He was still wearing his pants, though she felt the urge to do something about that soon. He ran his hook back over her front, slightly grazing it over the erect tip of her breast and causing her to inhale sharply, then let out a quivering sound almost like a sigh.

"You're going to have to help me out with this bodice of yours," he rasped, his voice low and rough, "or I'm afraid it will come off in pieces."

She reached behind her back to unhook the bra; she was fairly certain that he would be an expert with that soon, too. But she admitted to herself that the thought of her bra coming off in pieces had something very appealing to it, and she was sure something like that would happen in the future.

It was Hook's turn now to stare, mesmerized, at the sight of her exposed, nude chest. Her creamy breasts were like he'd always imagined them: not too big and not too small, firm and round, apparently the perfect form and size to fit in his hand. Their pointed peaks were the visible proof of her eager anticipation. Unconsciously, he rubbed his thumb over the tips of his fingers and rolled his tongue through his mouth. "I'll be damned..." he murmured.

There was no way he could keep on his pants any longer; the smooth, but at the same time rigid leather was causing him almost physical pain in his most sensitive body area now. His gaze still fixed on Emma's perfectly shaped body, he got up from the bed and hand and hook reached for the leather laces. Suddenly, staring at him with a mix of invitation and adoration, she jumped into action; her hands shot forward, and she grabbed his wrist and the sheath that held his hook.

"Don't you dare," she gasped and pushed him away. There was no way she'd miss out on doing that herself. Slowly and lightly, she ran the back of her right hand over the clearly visible shape of him, feeling him come to life under her touch. Hook's sharp intake of breath made a devilish smile curve her lips, so very similar to his own trademark grin, and she repeated the touch before fishing for the leather laces, fumbling to undo them.

He was beyond thrilled about her boldness and playfulness and watched her fingers working meticulously, but he really needed to free himself from the leather confines now… urgently. "Emma," he warned hoarsely, "you'd better make haste, or else I cannot be held accountable."

The more she was fiddling with the lacing, the more anxious she grew. In spite of her determination, her fingertips became slick with sweat from her sudden nervousness. Finally, he had to put his big hand over hers and help her with the task, and together they finally loosened the laces. Emma paused for a moment and looked up at him, suddenly frightened by her own courage. He nodded with an encouraging smile that was so slight that it barely reached the corners of his mouth and was mostly visible in his eyes. "Go ahead, Swan," he prompted, softly and playfully daring her at the same time.

She drew a deep breath and gave the black leather a firm tug. Given how tight they were, the pants came down surprisingly easily, almost falling off his slender hips. Both of them gasped audibly when he was finally free and sprung into her waiting hands. For a moment, she just held him and looked up at him again, marveling at the combination of the hot, silky smoothness of his skin and the steely rigidity that lay underneath: a mix that made all her senses reel and tingle.

When her fingers started to wander lightly over his feverish flesh, causing him to twitch in her hands, he quickly put his hand over hers again to stop her. Her eyes darted up to his, and she saw little beads of perspiration appear on his forehead. He shook his head in a barely perceptible move. "Not the right moment," he managed in a very breathless voice, and she understood and released him immediately, even if reluctantly.

He kicked off his pants along with his boots and sat again beside her on the bed. His hand immediately returned to the back of her neck, fingers entangling in her hair, and he claimed her mouth for more deep kisses that made her head spin, literally pillaging her. Emma had difficulties holding herself upright in her half-sitting position, the overload of desire causing her body to sway. Feeling her reaction, Hook let his mouth wander in a fiery path from her lips along her jaw line, using his scruff to graze the side of her throat and drive her nearly insane. When he reached the curve of her jaw, his wanton tongue darted out and licked over her earlobe before he purred, "Lay back, lass."

With a sigh, Emma let herself sink back onto the pillow. He tilted his head and smiled down at her before he slid to the foot of the bed and slowly traced the cool metal of his hook down over her stomach, then achingly slowly over her pubic mound, still covered by her lace-trimmed white panties. Moaning softly, Emma curved her back and arched her hips upwards in an instinctive move; she felt all her juices flow abundantly.

"I like the knickers in this realm," he commented in a raucous voice thick with arousal. Chuckling devilishly he teased; "White and innocent, and yet so sinful."

Emma was breathing heavily by now, her hands clasping the sheet. "Hook..." she panted, and it was almost a plea.

She felt more than she saw – because her vision was fogged somehow – that he used his hook very carefully to pull her panties down over her legs, leaving her completely naked and exposed to his intense, blue scrutiny. When he saw her there before him, bare of the last barrier, he was nothing less than filled with awe – about her beauty, her openness and her courage. He knew he was just about to witness Emma Swan's final leap of faith, and that leap carried her right into his arms.

"Emma Swan, I swear by God you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my long life," he told her, voice thick with raw honesty. "Every inch of you deserves to be thoroughly worshipped and will be..." he swallowed and went on in an almost apologetic tone: "...but right now, I just have to have you."

She smiled and reached out for him with both arms. "Then take me already," she replied in a crystal clear voice. "I'm yours."

Hook knelt between her legs, nudging them open a little, and grabbed her left knee with his hand. Catching her other knee with his hook, he pulled her towards him in a quick, almost brusque move that made her gasp. He covered her body with his and said almost solemnly, "You are now."

For a moment, he lingered at her entrance, grazing his tip over her waiting core, rejoicing in the delightfully obvious proof of how ready she was for him. His eyes locked with hers and, studying her closely, he entered her deliberately slowly, watching those jade eyes he adored grow darker, and her lips curve into an almost unbelieving, ecstatic smile as she felt him fill her so neatly and completely. Then, finally, he buried himself inside her with one single push of his hips, causing her to let out a little cry. Hearing her, he held back and looked at her with a question in his eyes, but Emma wrapped her arms only closer around his body and opened her eyes wide. "Move now," she panted, "please."

He happily obliged and allowed himself to finally let go of his passion completely, not holding back any longer; he knew he didn't have to. He wasn't surprised at all to find that their bodies matched perfectly, like they were made for each other – which he believed they actually were. They found their rhythm together easily with his very first thrust as if they'd been doing this breathless dance together for years. They moved in perfect, beautiful sync, faster and faster, as their long pent-up passion carried them away, until neither of them could think anymore.

They were sighing, moaning, panting each other's name, along with those meaningless sounds lovers make during their wildest, most uninhibited moments. Emma felt like she'd gone to heaven, finally unburdened and free. If she hadn't been aware of the weight of Hook's body pressing her into the mattress and holding her in place like a safe anchor, she would've thought she was flying; a sensation that normally would've scared her, but here, with him, there was nothing anymore that could scare her because she knew she was finally safe and home. She felt a tingling start at her toes and wrapped her legs tighter around his hips, craving more closeness, more... not getting enough of him, not now, not ever.

Emma's eyes were closed. Head thrown back onto the pillow and lips slightly parted, she murmured words only she understood, completely lost in their passion. Hook paused for a moment inside her to bend his head down and shower the side of her throat with burning kisses, grazing her sensitive skin with his teeth and his scruff. She moaned and arched her body even more into his, partly because her neck was obviously one big erogenous zone, partly because she was almost desperately urging him to continue; he could tell that from the way she wrapped her thighs so tightly around his hips and lifted hers upwards impatiently. He smiled against her feverish skin and started to move again, and when her nails dug into his back and her sighs became louder and more urgent, pleading almost, he knew she was close, so very close. He increased his pace and force and could feel by the way her whole body was tensing and her core was starting to clench around him that she was about to fall apart.

He scrutinized her closely with intense, incredulous eyes full of wonder. She'd never looked more beautiful to him than in this moment of complete and utter vulnerability and devotion, letting go of everything that had ever held her back from being her true self and being happy. All her walls were down, her heart and her soul laid bare to him just as her body was. He wanted nothing more than to spill out his heart to her and tell her how much he loved her, but then he held the words back. Emma Swan might need time before she would be able to handle that.

Instead, he just softly urged, "Emma... look at me..."

She opened her eyes and gasped incoherently, "Killian... I... I can't..." Hold back, he knew she meant.

"Don't," he replied breathlessly. "Let go for me... don't be afraid... I've got you."

She smiled her angelic smile he loved so much then let herself fall completely and utterly, and he caught her, just like he promised. He had enough time to hold her close to him until her shuddering slowly subsided before he allowed himself to lose control and finally find his own long-desired release inside the woman he'd loved for quite awhile, calling out her name.

For a long moment, neither was able to move; they just lay still, eyes closed at first, with him still inside her and his forehead resting on hers. They listened to their slowly decelerating heartbeats and the softening of their heavy breathing. Finally, Emma opened her eyes again just to find his right before her, watching her come back down to earth. Hook smiled his lopsided smile and was happy to see the radiant expression on her face. If he'd been afraid in the slightest that there was a chance she might regret what had happened, the look on her face was all he needed to sweep all worries away. He gently pushed a lock of hair away from her face and waited for her to speak.

She moistened her lips, somewhat surprised at how incredibly dry they were. Her head was still dizzy and her body still hummed all over from the sensual explosion she'd just experienced. Still a little breathless, she started speaking; "That was..." but her voice trailed off. She had no words, and he saw how she literally couldn't handle it yet.

"You'd better not tell me it was a one-time thing," he teased, and that helped her regain her ability to form coherent thoughts because that teasing felt so much like home.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she replied with a smile.

Hook nodded. "Good. Because this time I'm not letting you get away." He gently slid out of her and to her right side, propped up on his left elbow with his hook resting on the pillow beside her head. His last statement had obviously pleased her – her smile told him that – and once more he was amazed at how at ease she seemed with their new found intimacy. This woman obviously regretted nothing. He started lazily painting patterns between her breasts with his fingertips. "But where are my manners," he went on almost casually. "I interrupted you, love." Emma frowned up at him questioningly, and he smirked. "That was...?" he prodded with a raised eyebrow.

Emma rolled her eyes, refusing to feed into his ego. Smirking, he offered: "Earth-shattering? Like a tempest? Heavenly?" He waved his hand invitingly. "Don't hold back, love."

She shook her head and grinned at him. "I'm glad to see you're still the same pretentious loudmouth as ever, pirate," she replied dryly.

As a response, the circles he was drawing on her chest grew larger and he let his index finger trail around her right breast. That bastard! He noticed with delight that she started to shiver under his touch. "Look me in the eyes, Swan, and tell me it's not true," he challenged.

She didn't find the energy to slap his hand away. "There's no need to brag, Hook," she told him. "It's not like you didn't lose your composure yourself..."

He chuckled. "Aye, but I recover fast..."

Emma propped herself up on her right elbow, their fronts now facing each other as his hand easily slid to rest on her back. Her eyes darted to his mid-section and she saw what he meant by recover. Still not used to that kind of intimacy – but she would get there soon – she blushed a little and looked away with an almost coy little smile that threatened to blow his already rebooting fuses completely.

"Why am I not surprised?" she murmured.

He snorted out a self-satisfied little laugh. "Because you know me almost as well as I know you, Swan," he replied with his trademark grin.

She raised her eyebrows. "Almost?" she echoed.

"I might still have a few..." – he paused to roll his tongue through his mouth more than suggestively and tilted his head – "...surprises for you."

Emma smiled and shook her head at him. There he was, the pirate captain, humble and decent as always. God, how he'd driven her crazy in the beginning, and God, how he was still driving her crazy now, but in the best, the irresistible way. She knew he was exactly the way she wanted him. Ignoring his smug grin, she moved closer to him and snuggled into his chest – much to his delight – and wrapped her left arm around his waist. "Did you ever doubt we would end up like this?" she asked and tilted her head back to look at him.

"Like what?" he teased with glittering eyes. "Dirty, sore and worn out? And how is that new?"

She chuckled and slapped his muscular back. "You know what I mean, Hook."

"Oh, that..." He let his fingers run up and down her spine, causing her to shiver and squirm against him. "Did I doubt it?" He swayed his head from one side to the other, pretending to contemplate her question, then he smiled one of his precious, sincere little smiles at her that always allowed her a glimpse of the true Killian Jones beneath the scoundrel attire. "Every day," he replied honestly and let one of her locks run through his fingers, "but then..." – he pursed his lips and shook his head – "...never."

She smiled and nodded at his statement. It sounded absurd but was also so very accurate. "You must be the most persistent man I've ever met."

His eyebrows twitched as he cocked his head. "Well, I had long enough of a lifetime to develop that particular quality... among others," he added with a wicked grin and pulled her a little closer, just enough for her to notice which other quality he was referring to... as if she needed reminding.

"We'll see about that," she teased back and suddenly brought her left hand to his shoulder and gave him a firm push. With a surprised gasp, he slumped down on his back. Her lips quirked into a pleased smile and she swung her left leg over Hook's body, trapping him.

"And exactly what do you think you're doing, Swan?" he asked, although the way she was slowly moving her thigh over his groin gave him an inkling of her intentions. He was more than thrilled about her playfulness and barely managed to keep a nonchalant face. With a swift move, she swung her lean body over to lie on top of him, her face only inches before his. Her hair fell down around their faces like a golden curtain and she grinned, immensely enjoying the power she held over him in this position. She could clearly read on his face how much he was at her mercy right now… how much he knew it, too.

With the devil in her eyes she leaned closer and whispered in his ear; "Lay back and you'll see what enjoyable activities I can do with a man on his back..."

Hook's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, an almost incredulous grin splitting his face. Hearing Emma throw back his own naughty line at him was bloody amazing; that she hadn't forgotten it even more so. She positioned herself right above him. Then, with a light guiding touch of her hand, she guided him into her once more. He glided into her slickness easily; he wasn't the only one ready for a reprise.

Emma started to move slowly, rotating her hips like a belly dancer in slow motion. She was thrilled beyond delight to see her dreaded pirate literally lose it. As soon as he picked up her rhythm, he ran his hand up her thigh and let it wander further up until he cupped her left breast, squeezing it ever-so-lightly.

"You are a true siren, Swan," he told her hoarsely, breathlessly, and ran his ringed thumb over the erect peak. She arched her spine and threw back her head, resting her weight on his strong thighs and completely lost in her lap-dance love play. Her eyes were closed and her long curls cascaded down until they covered her hands, gripping the taut muscles of his legs. When he felt her need and her moves intensify and grow quicker, he put his hand and hook to her hips and held her firmly, going with her increasing rhythm of rising and falling, pushing firmly upwards when her body fell down on his. After a few well-placed thrusts he felt her shatter and crumble around and on top of him and reached for her waist with his hook and his hand, carefully pulling her off of him before she even had the chance to come back to her senses again.

For a moment, she blinked with slight confusion, still hearing the blood rush in her ears. He rose to his knees surprisingly quickly, kneeling behind her, and wrapped his right arm tightly around her waist to steady her. He kissed the back of her neck and brought his hot lips to her ear.

"Very impressive, Swan," he murmured in a deep voice and let the sharp tip of his hook graze over her ribcage – the steel had adopted the warm temperature of her body now, and the sensation proved to be beyond description. He pulled her back closely to his front and rasped into her ear, "But I'm not done with you yet..."

He ushered her a little forward towards the wall, and Emma gasped when she understood what he was doing. Still in a state of dizziness, she followed his lead, bent a little forward and put her hands on the headboard. He smoothed out her hair and let his hand run down over her spine, followed by kisses on her feverish skin. "That's a good girl," he purred in a low voice. "Hold on tight, lass..."

Placing his hand and hook on her hips again, he positioned himself behind her and nudged her legs a little more open with his knees. Right as he entered her again – and her ability to form coherent thoughts faded from existence once more – she remembered a line she'd probably read on some stupid bumper sticker: "A good man breaks your headboard, not your heart." Now this was not her headboard, and it wasn't really breaking, but from the rattling sounds it made it looked like it was pretty close to falling to pieces, just like she was – again.

Emma's head was spinning, and so was Hook's, and he was almost relieved to feel that the tension inside her was building up again fast because he surely wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. His pace and forcefulness became frantic, and when he felt that they'd both reached the point of no return, he simply stopped moving, bent down over her and reached around her mid with his right arm, pulling her into an upright position with him with her back pressed closely to his front. His hand slid up over her sweat-covered body and came to lay between her breasts, his ringed fingers spread widely, feeling her heart hammering madly against her sternum as though he held it right in his palm.

"Killian..." she sighed almost tonelessly.

"Emma..." he breathed into her ear, "together, my love..."

With that, she let her head fall back to rest on his shoulder, her cheek against his and her arms clutching his forearm as she pressed his palm to her heart. No more nearness was possible now – not physical and not emotional. Neither of them moved; they just swayed a little when they let the wave of their shared climax wash over them like a flood and carry them away into oblivion.

Completely exhausted, they fell back on the mattress and for a few moments just lay there, trying to get back to their senses again. Hook was the first to regain the ability to move, while Emma's breath still hadn't slowed down enough. She lay there, blissfully sated, listening to the blood rushing in her ears. Hook pulled the sheets over them both to cover their still entangled bodies before the sweat on their skin could dry and turn tingles of pleasure into genuine shivers. He was leaning again on his left elbow, the hook resting on the pillow above her head. Time for you to take a leap of faith yourself, mate, he thought; she is your tough lass, she can handle it. He tucked her in like a child and threw her his heart-stopping grin, and she half expected some mocking, smug remark. This was so unfair, because she knew she wasn't in shape for an adapt reply yet.

But instead, he just studied her still flushed face as if he wanted to ingrain every feature of hers forever in his memory. Then, tilting his head to look upon her, he simply said, "I love you, Emma Swan." Deal with it.

With wide green eyes she gaped at him, still too overwhelmed to speak. What had just happened had been an amazing act of scorching passion – well more than one, to be specific – but also so much more than just a physical union. It had been the final, secretly long-desired and much needed ultimate connection of two soul mates, nothing less. Lovers. With a clarity that was so crystal sharp that it almost hurt, Emma Swan realized there and then that she was looking up into the mesmerizing eyes of her One True Love, and yes, she almost couldn't handle it. Almost. No, she wasn't going to shy back from it… she was done with that. By now, she was completely open and finally ready to embrace it; but right now it was just overwhelming and it choked her. She opened her mouth and tried to say it. She wanted, maybe needed to say it, helplessly struggling with the words that were so clear in her mind but so hard to let out.

Hook just smiled down at her and wiped a tiny droplet of sweat from her forehead, smoothed out her still damp hair and said, "'S alright, love. Sleep now." Damn him, he knew. Open book. Emma felt hot tears sting in the corners of her eyes, but he wasn't going to let her cry. He was going to make it easy for her, of course, as usual. He kissed her on the top of her head and added in his mocking tone; "That's an order from your Captain, Swan. And we both know you like taking them."

She kept staring at him with an incredulous look, but he just stretched his long body out beside hers and reached for the light switch on the night stand and the room plunged into darkness. Emma slipped into his embrace immediately, draping her left arm over his chest and her leg over his, capturing him like an octopus and wanting to make sure he stayed right where he was. But she knew he wouldn't be going anywhere. They were both home. She nestled her head in the nook between his jaw and his shoulder where it fit so neatly like it belonged there, and within two minutes, she was asleep… the echo of three little words still floating in her ears.

So, that's that... was it how you imagined it? Let me know what you think. Was it a mistake that Hook has opened his heart to Emma, and will she be able to reciprocate? They have still a long way ahead, and I'd be happy if you join them. As usual, reviews are the wind beneath the writer's wings ;)

This time, I have to think my editor emeraldromance even more than usual - with her awesome touch she made these special moments even more special - and all that in spite of her packed days and neglecting her own writing.

To my muse Silvia - bouncing off ideas and your feedback make it all so much easier. Grazie, buona fatina!