Dora tried to close the apartment door, but the bow on her shoulder got in the way. She shifted it to the side, and tried again.
"What are you doing with the bow?" Henry's voice came from the stairs, and she turned to face him.
"I was going to go hunting. The food is running out."
Henry gave her an odd look. "The food is running out? In that apartment?"
"I did find metal crocks with pictures of food on them," she explained. "But they're sealed and I cannot seem to open them with my knife."
"Metal crocks?" Henry thought for a moment. "Cans? You mean cans?"
She looked at him blankly, and Henry gave her a smile. "I think I can help you," he said. "Come on. You can't hunt around here, anyway."
"The woods have game, surely," she remarked.
"They do, but you don't have to go to all that trouble," he said. He dug in his pocket for his key and opened the door.
Dora looked at him warily. "Why do you have a key to the door?" she asked.
"Mary Margaret and I are friends," he lied smoothly. "This is her place."
Dora took the bow from her shoulder and followed him in, laying it down. "I hope she won't mind me staying here," she said. "I had nowhere else to go and Neal's things were here. I suppose I should go, now that he's...gone."
The sadness in her voice pulled at him, and Henry really didn't know what to say. If she really didn't have anywhere else to go... He tried to look at the situation objectively. The woman might be a stranger, but she'd taken care of Neal when neither of his grandparents could. And when it came time to give Neal back - to his grandfather at least - she did the right thing.
His Mothers would think it was better to keep her somewhere that they could keep an eye on her. He was sure of that.
"I think Mary Margaret would be fine with you being here - until she wakes up, I mean."
"If you let me hunt, I can replenish her stores," Dora offered. "I'm quite good with a bow."
"So is she," Henry said. He leaned back against the counter. "You're not from around here, are you?"
She looked away, nervously. "As I said, I'm new to this town."
"I mean, you're not even from this realm. Are you from the Enchanted Forest?"
Her entire demeanor changed, and her face turned stony. "I came from there. That is not my home." She eyed Henry shrewdly. "How do you know of the Enchanted Forest?
Henry shrugged, keeping his voice nonchalant. "I read a lot. Now let me show you how to use a stove and a microwave." He reached into the drawer by the sink, pulling out a can opener. "And one of these."
###
"Are you sure you shouldn't be spending the evening with your sugar mama?" Emma joked as Killian stared blankly at the credit-card style room key.
"She's got tickets to a show tonight and then she spending time with friends," he said. "How the devil does this work, anyway?"
"Here, give it to me," Emma said, holding out her hand. "You slide it in here, like this." She pushed the card in the slot, waited for the green light, then opened the door. Her jaw dropped a moment later.
"What the - " She turned to look at Killian incredulously.
"They call it The Pirate Suite," he said. "And of course, that meant we had to have it."
Emma turned back, trying to take it all in. The bed was shaped like a ship, complete with a canopy made to look like sails. The walls were floor-to-ceiling murals of the open sea, with other ships in the distance. The carpet was a dark blue with white swirls, making it look like an ocean with whitecaps.
"This is...WOW." Emma didn't quite know what to say.
"That's not all," Killian said, taking her by the hand and leading her into the bath.
"Holy shit!" She clapped a hand over her mouth at the expletive, but Killian only grinned wider. "Sorry," she mumbled. "But this is really too much!"
The large, sunken bathtub was shaped like a treasure chest, painted gold and black with the lid propped open against the wall. There was a mirror inlaid into it, too.
"Oh, we'll have some fun with that, Swan," Killian promised, running the back of his hand along her neck. She leaned back into him, still pleasantly rosey from her last glass of wine and that turn on the dance floor.
"You really know how to dance," she said, laying her head back against him. He slid his arms around her, pressing his lips in a slow, meandering path up her throat.
"I told you, Swan," he said, between soft, plucking kisses, "We know how to move together."
"I'm thinking we should move to the other room," Emma said, sliding her hand up to twine her fingers with his. She took a step toward the door, but her stiletto heel caught on the seam of one of the marbled tiles and she lost her balance. Killian was behind her in an instant, scooping her up in his arms.
"I've got you, love." He smiled down at her as he walked her through the doorway toward the bed. "You're not drunk, are you?"
She gave him a look. "Please. I barely have a buzz going. I'm breaking in new shoes on a tile floor."
"Good," he said, releasing her legs and letting her slide down the front of him in a very delicious way. "I need you wide awake. I've waited a long time for this."
Emma wrapped her arms around his neck. "You afraid I'm going to regret this in the morning?"
He raised a brow and looked good and offended. "Not likely. I'll make sure of that, love."
The look in his eyes reinforced that promise, and she gave him an answering smirk as he lowered his head and kissed her with an intensity that should have scorched her. His arms pulled her in tight as the kiss went on and his lips played over hers with a finesse that had her clinging to him and moving restlessly against him. She started to pull him down onto the bed, but instead of following her down he paused, reaching for her foot.
"Let's get these off," he said. "Don't want you having any accidents." He slid the straps down and pulled first one shoe off and then the other, tossing them aside. Emma started to reach for him, but Killian took a step back.
"Just a moment," he said, smiling mischievously. He walked over to the table near the bed and picked up what looked like a remote control. He studied it a moment, and then punched three buttons in succession.
The room suddenly filled with the soft, ambient sounds of waves and gull calls, then the lights began to dim, and on the wall opposite the bed, an orange-red glow lit the mural, giving the impression of the sun sinking low on the horizon. Then the soft whir of a fan rustled the sails.
Killian set the remote down, surveying the room with his hand on his hip.
"Not bad," he said approvingly. "Now all we're missing is the fresh sea air - or the smell of a half-dozen poorly washed men."
"How about we skip that part," Emma said, scrunching up her nose with a smile.
He moved back to the bed, putting a knee down and sliding down next to her. "Agreed," he said, pulling her back into his arms. "Now...where were we?"
Emma's hands moved across his chest, feeling the planes and muscles beneath his shirt, then up over his shoulders before she slid her fingers into his hair, moving against his body as he kissed her over and over again.
His mouth moved to her neck and she slid a leg up against his hip. He brought his hand up, just above her knee, pushing her dress up and sliding along her thigh. Emma made an appreciative sound as his fingers shifted, tracing patterns across her inner thigh as his mouth played across her neck and collarbone, his tongue swirling a trail down to the tops of her breasts where they pushed up through the dress.
"Emma..."
Killian said her name in a low voice just before his mouth closed over hers again, kissing her hungrily and with far less restraint. She responded in kind, her fingers tightening in his hair as she felt his hand moving inside and up her leg. Her body took over, pushing up to meet his palm as it rested at the apex of her thighs. His fingers grazed the crease where her leg joined her body and an instant later, he was touching her, underneath her underwear.
She felt like she was coming out of her skin - like it was stretched too tightly. She made another sound deep in her throat as his thumb slid into her folds and circled the bud of sensation, pressing into it as he continued to kiss her with more ferocity. She arched her back as she felt first one, then another finger slide inside her, pushing and stroking as his thumb circled and flicked and rubbed. Her hands were all over him, stroking his back, sliding down to grip his backside and pull him even closer.
"Oh, God, Killian...please -" she ended her plea in a moan, tugging at his clothes, and he finally relented, pulling back to help her before he shifted her to her side to get the zipper on her dress. For a one-handed man, he managed to get them both naked in moments. Then he settled his chest against her, the crisp hair teasing her nipples as she welcomed the weight of him pressing her down into the mattress.
"Slow down, love..."
He was panting, fighting himself as she tilted her hips up and he slid into the scalding heat of her, but Emma didn't want it slow. She reached her hands up, her fingers tangling in his hair as she arched into him hard, and he was lost, sinking deeply into her over and over, hearing her gasps and frantic breathing echoing with his, and her hands were all over him, sliding over his shoulders, stroking down his back and buttocks as the rhythm of his hips accelerated.
He got an arm under one of her legs and with a grimace, he plowed even deeper somehow, sure he must be hurting her, but she met him thrust for thrust, clenching him and pulling him in until he felt her legs tighten, and that glorious face tilted back. Her teeth bit down on her upper lip, and the sound she made carried him over the edge, shuddering hard as she milked him dry.
He couldn't move for what felt like an eternity. He had to be crushing her. He pushed himself up to his elbows.
She was laying with her eyes closed, and a smile on her lips. Well, that was a good sign, he supposed.
"Are you all right, love? I should move..."
She slid an arm up around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. "Mmmm," she said. "You feel good. Really good."
"You feel like heaven," he said, with a crooked grin. "Like I've shuffled off my mortal coil - which would be a small price to pay for what I just experienced."
She pushed a lock of hair off his forehead. "I gotta admit," she said, "You're every bit as good as your word. That was amazing."
"I'm sorry it all seemed to happen so fast," he apologized. "I was trying to linger over you, but -"
"To hell with that. I wanted you."
The force of those words and the look in her eyes sent a signal straight to his core, somehow - impossibly - making him hard again. She smiled as she felt him stir against her, and she lifted her face, kissing him softly.
"You can linger this time, if you want to," she offered.
He was only too happy to oblige.