Tumblr prompt: Sexy times with the ladder in Killian's cabin.

A/N: I didn't even realize there was a ladder in the cabin, totally missed that last week, until it was brought to my attention, this is just a light piece, nothing angsty...promise.

Also, thanks so much for your reviews and your prompts, I do read all of them but I'm a spaz so many times I don't get to them, that being said please feel free to send them...sometimes the oddest ones strike my fancy...i.e.-ladder prompt.

Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT.

SMUT AHEAD!

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Fucking…

Pirate.

"No Killian."

"Hmmm?"

"Goddammit. No. Just no…we are not…no…I don't have time…absolutely not."

He's crowding her. Forcing her to shuffle backwards as he leisurely stalks her; amusement shining in his eyes, his grin slow and somewhat infuriating as he licks his lips lazily, making a blatant show of running his tongue over his teeth—the move both deliberate and obvious.

The sneaky son of a bitch.

"I'm going to be late."

"Are you?" Shrugging out of his coat, she watches, unable to tear her eyes away from him, as the leather slides off his shoulders and onto the ground, landing in a heap behind him as he continues to move even closer—clear intent now glimmering in his stare.

"You really are a bastard." she hisses the words out softly, the hint of a smile that tugs her mouth upwards causing the statement to fall flat as her back comes into contact with something hard and rigid. Sparing a glance over her shoulder, lips smoothing and then pursing tightly, she raises a brow at the ladder resting directly behind her, her attention snapping back to him when she hears the floorboards creak under his weight, his movements nearly predatory.

"Am I?" his voice holds a note of humor, his tone low and smooth as silk, a dangerous and frightening combination, something they're both aware she's had trouble resisting in the past.

"Yes…I-I told you…I don't have time for this." She murmurs quietly, weakly, fingers reaching behind her to grasp at the ladder's side rails—a small attempt to steady herself.

"Time for what darling?" his smile widens, stretching from flirty to downright devastating—his teeth flashing white, his bright eyes undeniably hungry.

"Don't play dumb…I have to meet Mary Margaret for dinner…" she whispers it in a defeated tone, her voice trailing off and her eyes fluttering closed as he slowly steps up to her, forcing her to shift slightly—her back pressing hard against the wooden rungs.

"Oh?"

His scent invading her—warm and spicy with a hint of the sea—the familiar smell bringing a slew of heated images to the forefront of her brain, she leans heavily against the ladder, a small whimper escaping her lips as he ducks his head to nip at her neck, focusing on her pulse point for a moment before lazily tracing his mouth up to nibble at her jaw.

"I—I promised her dinner and…and I should go and—"

"So leave…" he mumbles the words into her skin, the low rumble vibrating against her as his good hand moves down between them, rubbing her hotly through her jeans—licks of desire sparking through her as a small moan bubbles up from her throat.

Leave?

Now?

Fat-fucking-chance.

"Goddammit Killian." Self control fading fast, fingers fisting into his hair, she draws him up; and scowling at the smug smile that stretches across his face, she brings him in for a kiss, breath panting out airily as he rocks his hips into hers. "Pirate," she whispers softly, affectionately, before slipping her tongue into his mouth. And sweeping the contours hungrily, greedily, her body tenses as his fingers begin to undo the button of her pants, a shudder dancing up her spine as he flicks it open and moves to tug her zipper down impatiently.

God he makes her weak.

Makes want to lose control.

And she wants to hate it…

But she loves it.

She fucking loves it.

Yanking her jeans and underwear down around her hips, his hand quickly comes back to cup her, stroking her wet folds; a smirk lighting his features at her soft and muffled gasp.

"So wet Emma." Breaking their kiss, he says it quietly, the fact obviously pleasing him as he slips one long and slender ringed finger into her—her purr of satisfaction at the feeling whispering between them. "Always so wet for me…" pumping in and out of her slowly, curving into her just right, he chuckles darkly at her panted gasp before adding another finger, stretching and filling her, the sensation causing her footing to falter slightly. "Always so ready."

And dammit she wants to answer him, deny him, possibly throw a smart retort back at him, a part of her desperate to knock his ego down a few notches in the process. But before she has the chance, before she can remind herself she's supposed to be meeting her mother in less than twenty minutes, he's pulling back from her—his fingers slipping out of her, and his mouth kicking up into a knowing grin at her soft whine of protest.

"Turn around darling…"

"I have to go…"

"Do you?"

"Yes."

It doesn't sound the least bit convincing, she knows it doesn't; not with the way her tone wavers and her body shifts towards his ever so slightly.

"Emma…" his lilting voice practically sings her name, the sound doing ridiculous thing to her insides, as his breath fans out across her face. "I'm going to fuck you now."

Eyes widening slowly, she shoots her gaze up to him, just barely getting a chance to read the look of desire that flashes in his blue stare before he's spinning her around and forcing her to face the ladder, her hands flying out in front of her to grasp onto the rungs as his hook and fingers dig into her pants forcing them down past her hips to pool near her boots.

"Killian…"

"Back up and spread your legs a little for me darling." His voice is gruff, his hook drawing up her slowly to rest at the base of her spine. Applying light pressure, the heavy steel digging into her skin, he forces her to bend over—her ass bared before him, wet heat blossoming between her thighs. "That's a good girl, just like that."

"You're an ass."

"And you love it." Leaning over, his breath ghosting across her neck, she can feel his straining arousal, can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks next. "Don't fret darling…you'll come quick…I plan on taking you hard and fast…been bloody thinking about it all day."

Good Christ.

A slight shuffle behind her, she places the telltale sound of his pants rustling, can feel his body moving against her; recognizes the fast pump of his fist as he readies himself for her, before, with a muffled grunt, he nudges his cock between her slick folds, the feel of him teasing and rubbing her causing her legs to tremble traitorously.

"Oh God…"

His laugh is a dark and husky sound, his body tight and taut behind her and—

And Jesus Christ how the hell did she go from telling him she had dinner plans to…

This?

Stupid. Fucking. Pirate.

"Hold on tight sweetheart."

He doesn't say anything else; his hips rocking backwards a little before surging forward, he thrusts in deep, pushing her body into the ladder, her fingers digging into the rungs as he pulls out only to slam right back in—his pace fast and brutal and almost too much. Sudden and unrelenting pressure coiling tight inside of her, she closes her eyes as he curses low under his breath and drives himself into her—the burn and stretch a familiar and welcoming feeling as she rocks her hips back greedily.

"Gods Emma but you're a wanton thing." His good hand digs into her hips a little more, fingers most likely bruising as his hook continues to rest on her back, the smooth metal cooling her near burning skin. "That weak attempt at resistance…have you been craving it too? A good and decent fuck? My cock deep inside of you?"

"Shut-up." She barely manages to ground out the words as he shifts the angle of his thrusts ever so slightly, pushing in deeper, hitting her in a spot that causes sparks to light behind her closed eyelids—white-hot fire kindling deep in her belly.

And God, with her pants shoved down to her ankles, upper body completely clothed, ass pushing against him again and again, as her head tilts towards the ceiling and her hair spills down her red leather jacket, words—indecipherable sounds—tumbling from her lips, she can only imagine the picture she must make, what she must look like to him at that moment.

"Just shut-up." She murmurs again, her fingers tightening their hold on the rungs as he pushes forward hard, the smack and slide of their bodies coming together causing her to whimper and moan, the feel of his cock hitting her deep, his balls slapping against her in turn with his rhythm nearly doing her in.

"I can feel you Emma." His voice is taunting, his accent rougher than normal. "I can actually feel you…you're so close already…so bloody close."

Cursing him under her breath, one hand leaving the ladder to snake down her body; she shudders involuntarily as she finds her clit, the simple touch causing her to pant somewhat desperately—his thrusts driving deeper, harder, a little less controlled. Eyes fluttering open, vision hazy and unfocused, she begins to rub herself furiously, needing relief from the unforgiving tension that has wound itself so tightly inside of her.

"That's a good girl, touch yourself for me. Rub yourself like you do when I'm not around to fuck you."

"Oh God." Her fingers slip and falter before regaining their pace, his words washing over her darkly, causing her thighs to clench and her eyes to screw closed once again.

"That's it…I want you to come on my cock Emma." He slams into her hard, jarring her against the ladder, jolting her with the force and nearly causing her to lose her balance in the process. "Come nice and hard for me…I want to feel it."

"Fuck."

And with the moaned word, coupled with another fast and hard thrust, his hook moving from her back to trail down her ass before settling low on her hip, she feels her walls tighten around him, her fingers slipping against her clit, before with another muffled curse and a hitched breath, she comes around him, clenching and unclenching again and again as wave after wave of fast and unyielding pleasure hits her hard—his name sobbed out on a broken moan, her grip on the ladder faltering slightly.

And as she comes, as her orgasm weakens her stance and shoots her senses into overdrive, she feels him, through the haze of her ecstasy, tangle his good hand into her hair, forcing her head further back; his hook biting into her skin once again before with a groan and a stifled curse he pulls out of her fast. Her body protesting the loss, her sex clouded brain fogged with confusion, her bewilderment slowly melts away into dawning understanding as he turns her to face him. Hooked hand resting on her shoulder, he pushes her down, forcing her onto her knees—the position more than a little uncomfortable with her boots and pants still bunched at her feet.

And Jesus, God, Christ, she's just barely come down from her own high.

Still, with a wicked smile lighting his features, she doesn't resist him when takes his cock into his good hand and places it against her lips, a murmur of appreciation humming in his throat when she readily opens up for him, hungrily taking him in. The taste of herself on him, the way he rocks his hips against her face, thrusting in and out of her and fucking her mouth, the feel of his hand fisted tightly in her hair, and the sound of the filthy and somewhat degrading things that spill desperately from his lips, it all makes her feel so dirty and sexy and she can't help but moan around him; her hand moving down of its own accord to where she's still wet and sensitive and aching for him. Burying her fingers inside of herself, she takes him in deeper, nearly gagging as he brushes the back of her throat, loving the way his voice roughens and his curse echoes throughout the room as she moves her free hand to his balls, cupping him lightly.

And with the action, the light touch seemingly doing him in, he chokes out her name before with a shudder and a groan he comes inside her mouth, spurting and pulsing deep into her throat, his hold on her head forcing her to swallow every bit of him as his grunt of release drifts to her ears.

When they're both spent, her limbs weak and her body sated, she draws her mouth away from him slowly, a tiny trail of cum dribbling down her chin as, still on her knees, unable to really move let alone properly stand, she glances up at him with dazed and glassy eyes, noting with a dim sense of satisfaction that he looks just as wrecked as she feels—hair sticking up where she had run her fingers through it, pants hanging loosely around his hips, chest heaving with labored breaths. Smirking softly, contentedly, she watches with a tilt of her head as he slowly, lazily, tucks himself back into his pants before, with a satisfied smile and light humor dancing in his eyes, he offers her his hand.

"Come now love, isn't there somewhere you were supposed to be?"

Another weak attempt at leaving, followed by a vague text, and five missed calls later, Emma collapses naked onto the bed, her legs shaking and arms heavy as Kilian lays next to her on his stomach, burying his face into the pillows with a muffled oath—a deep sigh escaping his lips as he indulges in a long and languid stretch.

And God she can't remember her body ever feeling so deliciously used—images of his head buried between her thighs, the look on his face as she had crawled on top of him and rode him hard and fast, and the way he had thrown her legs over his shoulders before driving into her relentlessly, flashing before her eyes.

Shifting slightly, and breaking her from her brief reverie, Killian reaches out, the small bed not really allowing her to resist as he pulls her closer, tucking her into his side. And feeling exhaustion begin to creep up on her, her brain sleepy and her body sated, she gives into him without struggle, letting herself nestle further into him, ignoring the low rumble of his somewhat surprised chuckle as she throws a leg over him, hugging him even closer.

She's never really been one to cuddle before.

But then again, she's never really been one to stand up a friend…err…mother...for mind-blowing sex before either.

"Fucking pirate."

And as she feels his lips dust across her hair before stretching into a wide smile at her sleepy and somewhat weak insult, she shakes her head with a quiet and slightly defeated sigh, unable to muster up the strength to feel even a little disappointed in herself as the brush of his fingers tracing idle patterns onto her skin and the steady and even beat of his heart lulls her into a lazy and contented sleep…

End.

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