Sorry this took a little longer than anticipated! Here it is anyway :] I own nothing. All rights/characters belong to OUAT and the writers/creators.

It had been raining with little pause for nearly a week and the fog danced low on the residential road just a block past main street. Emma pulled alongside the curb as the tires of her car caused a small splash in a leftover puddle. The air still felt damp with evidence of a mid afternoon storm and as the ignition kicked off, she snuggled into her jacket and the thick wool scarf draped around her neck.

Yes, it was the favorite scarf she'd chosen to wear for weather related reasons and only those. A blush skimmed her cheeks as she adjusted the woven article. Damn Killian Jones and his rogue teeth, Emma thought with a smirk. Although, she couldn't totally blame him. He'd merely done what he always seemed to. He respected her choice. He let her decide.

Now when and why her choice had become so downright devious and daring was anyone's guess - logic be damned.

She pressed lightly on the skin being concealed, knowing that the puncture marks were healed and fading fast. It was a silly cliche to have worn the scarf at all - she had nothing she wanted to hide. Killian had taken the utmost care when it came to the indents he'd left on her neck during that insane moment of passion. Emma shivered slightly at the memory - the way he'd hovered above her, that drilling blue color of his eyes, the piercing feel of his fangs as he took what they'd both obviously been desiring for who knows how long. It had only happened that single time - their first time in more ways than one - but as the recollection of that rain soaked night continued to prod her, Emma found it increasingly difficult to deny how much she wanted it again.

There was just something about him holding her life in his hands while he offered her his world - his impossible, dangerous, tempting world.

Emma tapped the steering wheel to the pattern of the sporadic precipitation on her windshield, trying to keep her mind focused on work. She was after some scumbag who'd skipped bail a week ago and she'd gotten a tip that he might be holed up in this part of town. She had decided a little stakeout might not hurt and a cup of coffee plus her shiny rain boots had found her doing just that. She sighed softly as she thought of the place she'd truly prefer to be in the shade of the storm.

"Mmmm," he sighed, opening one eye lazily. "Are you watching me sleep now, Swan?"

"Maybe," she laughed, tangling her feet with his. "You've mentioned that it's a rare occurrence so I thought I should take advantage while I could."

"Fair enough," he smirked, his voice thick with some sort of exhaustion. "Though I'd hoped you'd be engaged in the same activity. Not preparing to leave, are you?"

"No, no - of course not," she clarified as her thumb traced the scar on his cheek. "I guess I was just attempting to figure out why….or what it is about you that makes me want-"

"To stay?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. "I guess that sounds pretty awful, doesn't it?"

"No, love," he said after a moment, reaching for the comfort of her hand. "In fact, I find myself curious about that exact thing rather often."

"Oh," she replied softly. "Can I ask why?"

"Well, I guess I just….don't know what would make you want this….just being here with me," he tried, his explanation sporadic and sad. "I have little to offer you, Emma."

"But maybe little-" she decided, her eyes wide with strange certainty. "-is enough."

"Is it?"

"I….think so. I mean, it is. I just….can't explain it honestly. It feels like more than enough, Killian."

"Ah, feels like it huh," he teased with a slight smirk. "I like the sound of that, Swan."

"Me too," she giggled, snuggling into him. "Maybe too much."

"Well, I guess we'll see about that, darling."

The thought of him in those cozy circumstances brought a blush to her cheeks as she rubbed her hands together to will away the cold. His skin had been pale against the color of the silky sheets and though his touch was colder than any other lover she'd had, something about the icy feel of his fingertips set her on fire. Emma blew heat onto her hands and pulled on her black, fingerless gloves in an effort to coax forward the warmth her outdated vehicle wasn't providing. God, if he was there, she wouldn't be having this issue. Not one bit.

The clock hit nine and Emma's mind ran through her updated schedule, subconsciously contrasting it with his. He'd been working in the emergency room the past few shifts and he was scheduled for two surgeries that night, the echo of his promise to swing by after playing in her mind. She had a while before that sweet check in though and her stomach voiced its disagreement with a low grumble. She bit her lip with a soft laugh, remembering the chat that had followed her last bout with an actual real, insistent hunger.

"Whoa," his heavy tone commented, his grin beaming as he held himself over her. "You okay there, Swan?"

"Yeah, just….hungry I guess," Emma blushed. "Sorry-"

"No, no, love - don't apologize," he said quickly, pulling her knuckles to his lips for a quick kiss. "I guess I….forget sometimes. Let's get you something to eat."

"Wait a minute….do you actually have food here?"

"Of course, love," he assured her, pulling her to stand. "I must eat sometimes as well, you know."

"Oh, uh, yeah-"

"Dammit," he chuckled, rubbing his eyes. "That's not what I….that came out wrong again, didn't it?

"No, it's okay," she laughed in return. "Just another one of those things I'm curious about I guess."

"Well, allow me-" he offered, sweeping her up in his hold and using that unmatched speed to dash them to the kitchen. "-to show you."

"So," Emma started, hopping up onto the counter as she regained composure. "You were saying something about eating…."

"Ah, yes - that," he nodded, tugging open his fridge door in pursuit of something. "I suppose this is one of those times your folklore is accurate, darling."

"So it's more like drinking-" she inquired, her head tilted in thought. "-than eating?"

"Aye, love," he nodded as he removed a plastic container of strawberries from the shelf. "I suppose that's a better way to describe it."

"So, like….what you did with me?"

"Oh, no - not at all love. You're not my source of food, Swan," he clarified with a wave of his hand. "I acquire my sustenance from the hospital. I've got an arrangement with one of the lab technicians there - Victor's his name. He provides me with a couple of bags a week. It's the minimum I require because even after several years of having to endure it, cold blood isn't exactly the highlight on my preferred menu."

"But can you actually….eat as well?"

"Yes, love," he laughed, plucking a berry from the case as holding it out for her. "As long as I keep a decent amount of blood in my system, my body functions quite….normally."

"Mmmm," she hummed, taking a small bite and licking her lips. "Quite, huh?"

"Aye, love," he smiled as he ate what was left of the piece of fruit. "Quite."

The kiss that followed as he parted her legs and drew them around his waist was anything but normal. His fingers traced the length of her skin in an intoxicating fashion, toying with the buttons of her - well, his shirt that she'd stolen. Breakfast turned into a lazy brunch by the time he finished devouring her, the syrup intended for their pancakes smeared across various parts of her skin and removed thoroughly with his warm tongue. With her appetite for food sated, he'd led her back to the cozy quarters of his four post bed - and a whole new sort of hunger took hold of them.

Emma allowed her head to fall back against her seat, impatience taking over as she watched the minutes move far too slowly on her dashboard clock. She had no clue where this perp was and the waiting was killing her - especially given the way she was choosing to pass the time.

Reminiscing the past several nights was certainly not shaping up to be an appropriate distraction. If anything, it was making the minutes infinitely longer. She had no clue just how long this stakeout might stretch on and she wasn't sure that she had the willpower to keep those particular thoughts at bay. Her fingernails scratched softly at the denim of her jeans as she tried to think of anything else. They'd barely had any time apart since the first night she'd lost herself in this eternal man and here she was, impatient and trying to will away the seconds until she could be back in his arms again.

Perhaps she really did belong to him.

A wry smile met her lips at the outlandish thought. He definitely didn't own her - and honestly, Emma had a hard time believing he'd ever actually want to. It wasn't really a secret that he liked her fiery, stubborn independence - it was written all over his face every time she shut down his insecurities or instigated an activity that didn't qualify as independent. No, Killian Jones didn't possess her as property.

Emma felt the weak pull of her curious mind as raindrops rolled down the window and her breath fogged the glass. She couldn't help but think of what it would be like if he did own her. She bit her lip at the foreign idea, her mind reeling with words he'd said before.

I don't want to hurt you, love.

Your thoughts and decisions are your own, lass.

Say it again…say you want this…

Chills followed the length of her spine as she recalled that husky timbre of his voice and the way his intent was always wrapped up in that rough accent. Emma's eyes closed as she relaxed, remembering the various circumstances she'd been in when hearing each shade of his lilting tone. Her fingers itched as she thought of the way his lips pressed together in that knowing smirk and the way he punctuated the final part of some words, the sound of the letter sounding remarkably similar to the click of his exposed fangs. Her mind reeled as she squirmed in her seat, her body escalating fast into that state of wanting and needing. Her fingers toyed with the seam of her jeans and she grew oblivious to the way they pulled on the zipper, loosening the denim fast - but of course, not quite as fast as Killian.

No, it was only that man who could drive her crazy in merely seconds.

"Swan."

"Mmmm…."

It was truly a wonder that Emma didn't have permanent indentations from Killian's front door against the flesh of her back. He'd gotten awfully skilled at anchoring her against that strong surface over the past few nights, often pulling it open and yanking her inside before she even had time to knock - although he'd insisted she didn't need to do that anyway.

"I missed you, love…."

He said the all too sweet words in that ragged, accented tone as he trailed kisses from the arch of her jaw down to her collarbone. Her skin was wet with the continuing nightly downpour outside and chills traced the curve of her spine as he removed several stray drops of water with his tongue. God, the things that man could do with that mouth.

She almost never wanted it to stop raining.

"I haven't been gone….that long," she smiled against his mouth. "Less than twenty four hours actually-"

"Mmmm, I know," he growled, hands firmly hugging her hips. "But I was hoping my recent reactions to this particular position might confirm just how much more frequently I'd prefer to lay eyes on you."

"Yeah, your response might have suggested something like that," Emma sighed, her eyes falling closed as he ran his tongue slowly along her neck. "Though I never mind hearing it…."

"There are several things I'd like to hear as well, love," he said in that sultry, moan stealing tone he seemed to save for her. "The first one tends to happen when I kiss you here."

His lips brushed the space just under her ear, his teeth testing it right afterward with a teasing drag. His hands worked her hips as his thumbs moved in slow sensual patterns along the protruding bones. Damn, he was good at that. The low, pleading sound she let out was soft but enough to make him grin against her neck.

"That's the one," he commented, his palms sliding more firmly to her waist. "Then here…."

His mouth slid slowly, his pace torturous as he moved to the space of skin just above her breast. The tickle of his scruff made her shiver as his tongue swirled softly at her nipple. Emma worked her fingers into his shaggy hair, tugging and twisting sporadically as he groaned lowly. He peered up at her from hooded blue eyes and it was nothing less than staring into the sun - dangerous, blinding, and white hot.

"Killian…."

"Mmmm, love," he gasped, peeling her remaining clothes from her body. "Let me have you…."

Emma couldn't find her voice as he moved to his knees, her mind hazy as she gave a weak moan and an even weaker nod. His hands were firm on her thighs and he pressed her tighter against the door, his heavy breath hot against her aching core.

"That's what I like to hear, darling," he said, his thickly uttered words mumbled as his tongue grazed the spot that had been craving his touch. "But perhaps a little louder now."

His direct, coaxing request from that recent instance encircled her mind with temptation as Emma fingers ran teasingly along the dark lace just under her jeans. The woven thread of her gloves brushed her exposed torso and she was grateful that they didn't cover her fingers - especially because she needed desperately to use them. She tried to recall the feel of his hands as she pulled back the material and moved her own anxious touch lower. The sharp gasp that left her mouth was unexpected, but it prompted her pace and she rubbed a little harder. Her head knew that this was not the time or place - even if it was secluded enough. She was working. She had a job to do.

But as the image of his icy, fiery, bold blue eyes burned in her memory, Emma knew there was no way in hell she could stop.

"Killian..."

Her jagged intake of breath wrapped around his name like a prayer, the letters leaving her mouth as her fingers slid back and forth. She thought back to him doing this - the anxious, groaning action of his tongue paired with a very skilled hand had sent her over the edge faster than she'd imagined possible. Now that she'd seen him like that, there was no way she would be able to go without it. Her body wanted - no, needed him. She writhed against her palm and her hips moved with a slight jerk, her pleasure soaring and causing her eyes to open instantly.

Killian.

The name wasn't said aloud this time, but it lit up Emma's mind in a flash as she attempted to freeze. There weren't many things that could have ripped her from the heightened circumstances she'd worked herself into. Well, there was actually only one thing - and he was currently staring a hole through her head with his palms flat on the hood of her car.

Son of a bitch - she'd been caught.

She'd never seen him look quite so predatory while looking so beyond frazzled. His hair was a mess, dark and damp with the lingering rain. His shoulders were clad in long, blowing black peacoat she hadn't seen before and a gray cotton tee he'd probably been wearing under his scrubs earlier. All Emma knew for sure was that it was one that shouldn't appear quite as sexy as the storm was making it look. He was biting his lip with fervor as he glared through the glass, his eyes a fierce blue that threatened to destroy her. Emma felt her breath hitch in her throat as he sped to the driver's side door, yanking it open hard enough to shake the car.

"Swan," he growled, his pupils blown wide as he braced himself on the open door.

She's never heard his accent sound so feral before and the roll of thunder behind him was almost menacing. Emma's fingers flinched as she noticed his wide stance and the way his jeans had grown tighter. She barely had time to notice the outline of his hard length when he grabbed her legs and turned her toward him, tugging her jeans off and throwing them up onto the dashboard.

"What in the bloody hell-" he rasped, kneeling on the wet ground and kissing a trail up the inside of her thigh "-do you think you're doing, love?"

"I….oh, god….I just….missed you."

"I can see that," he hummed, pulling her to the edge of the seat as her back hit the middle console. "But I'm here now, darling."

Emma watched him intently, hanging on his sultry words and his wandering hands. Her teeth sunk into her lower lip as she bit back a moan when his tongue ran slowly along the growing wetness between her legs. He growled low and his fingers pressed hard into her legs as he teased her, his mouth moving skillfully as her hips rutted against his face.

"Killian….oh, yes-"

"Emma….you are so wet," he said as his thumb rubbed against her. "So beautiful, love. Come. I want you to come."

"Killian, please….I want you to…."

She didn't finish the words that made up her begging, moaning, pleading request. He knew what she wanted - and this time, he gave only the briefest moment of pause before he caved. His fingers pushed up abruptly, thrusting in and out at a sudden but steady speed. Her mind was heavy with a fog that mimicked the one dancing along the pavement and he worked her carefully and calculatedly toward oblivion. Emma's gasping breath quickly became a rhythm of desperate panting and her eyes fused with his as she came undone, a series of sounds only he could pull from her trembling mouth. She was so busy spinning and sinking into her own pleasure that she barely caught the flash of fangs piercing her inner thigh.

"Oh…K-Killian…."

He groaned in response, his fingers brushing the underside of the leg he was marking. Emma felt her head lighten as he drank, swallowing heavily as he held her steady. She peered down at him, taking in the picture of this voracious man mid-feed. His lashes were long and shielding the veins darkening around his eyes as he took a final taste. When he pulled back, he quickly used a fang to cut his thumb. He pressed his trickle of blood onto the punctures he had left on her leg, that dazed smirk finding him as his bloodstained lips placed a soft kiss over the healing bite. Emma let her fingers trail through his wet hair as the water from the growing storm slid down the contours of his face.

If this man and his impossible state of being didn't end her, that look of pure desire certainly would.

"Sorry, love," he breathed, dragging his wrist over his mouth to hide the evidence. "I didn't mean to get so carried away."

"It's okay," she nodded as her eyes fought to stay focused. "I'm okay."

"You're beautiful," he said sweetly, pulling her to her feet and placing soft kisses on her jaw. "I want to show you."

His hands slid down her back with a heated pressure, his grip landing firmly on the underside of her thighs as he lifted her. His lips found hers as their tongues tangled quickly, the rain clinging to their soaked clothes as he held her tight. A shiver traced her skin from her toes to her scalp and she gasped against his mouth. The door was frigid against her flushed skin and Emma's gloves pressed hard on the metal surface.

"God, Killian….that's cold…."

"Aye, rather wet too," he replied, his voice breathy as it captured the innuendo. "Let's fix that."

The world was a blur around her as she heard the car door slam and the soft whoosh that followed the vampire speed made her skin tingle. The rush slowed and Emma landed flat against the bricks of a hidden wall. She wasn't sure where she was for a moment - the way Killian's lips were ravishing her neck was making her completely incoherent. She peered from side to side as he kiss trailed down her chest and finally somehow realized that they were in a nearby alley. The space was covered and quite out of the way, but something about it was dangerous.

This felt all too familiar.

"Killian, are we-"

"Yes," he confirmed, kissing her hard and nipping at her bottom lip. "I wanted to make amends for how things should have gone last time we were here."

Emma smirked at his oddly sexy and thoughtful gesture as she reached for the collar of his coat, yanking him closer as she threw them back into the heated kiss he'd started. Her fingers twisted the material of the coat and he groaned, allowing his tongue to tease hers. Pushing her body tight against his, Emma felt that habitual magnetism take hold of her senses.

"I think-" Emma started, shoving him backward until he hit the opposite wall. "-I might be able to allow it."

Killian grinned at that, grunting softly when she tugged on his belt. He reached for her, hitching her leg up on his hip and Emma pulled helplessly on his jeans. He smirked against her neck as he forced the fabric to the ground with his long coat landing on top of it, the rain now pounding the pavement only a short distance from where she had him pinned to the bricks. His hands moved fast, ripping her sweater from her body before he gripped her elevated leg more firmly. Emma's fingers wove themselves into his dark, thick hair as his tongue followed the lacy edge of her bra - the black, somewhat sheer one she'd definitely chosen with him in mind.

"Bloody hell, lass," he gasped, sucking gently on the swell of her breast before he spun them. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Not at all," she smiled, pulling his hair carefully. "If I was, I would have brought a wooden stake with me."

"Fair enough," he decided, raising an eyebrow as his solid length brushed her bare skin. "Not into the impaling thing then?"

"Well, I didn't-" Emma replied as he crushed her against the cold bricks, pushing inside with a deep thrust. "-say that."

His mouth fell back to her shoulder as Emma's back arched into him. His hand knotted loosely in her hair as her head grew weak, exposing more of her bare neckline to him. His kiss was heated and his hips followed the fervent motion as he his free hand held her lower back. The pattern of moans leaving Emma's throat were rivaled only by the raindrops splashing in the street and Killian's ragged breath as he slammed into her. Emma held his head and gaze steady, wrapping her arms around his neck as lighting flashed distantly. The brief, bright strike lit up the sky and the darkness in his eyes to replace it with an honest, brilliant blue.

"Emma, love…."

She heard it in the words - the desperation, the need, the….love. He wasn't supposed to be real, but this was. They were.

"Killian, please," Emma pleaded. "I need you…."

His fangs grazed her collarbone, leaving a dull bite mark behind as he pulsed into her with a groan. Her forehead landed on his shoulder and thunder clapped loudly in the alley's echo as she rode out her own release, his hands coaxing her through it as his grip kept her in place until her body gave up. He gathered her tight in his arms and took the several steps backward until he found the adjacent bricks. With his back flush against the wall, he slid down the surface to the cold ground with Emma carefully balanced in his lap. They caught their breath simultaneously for a moment, her fingers absently running through his grown out hair.

"Freezing, love?"

Emma shivered slightly as he retrieved the coat from its landing place with a quick stretch, pulling it around her bare shoulders and running his hand down the fabric as it covered her back. He was so careful with her typically and she hoped silently that he wasn't berating himself for being a little less than careful this time.

"Well I didn't exactly plan on being naked in the middle of a torrential downpour," she taunted, kissing him once more. "So I guess I'm a bit colder than I expected I'd be tonight."

"I suppose I should apologize for that."

He kissed her tenderly, his hand on her cheek as he breathed her in like she was his true lifeblood. She melted into the idea without another thought. There was something about it that felt safe - even if he was supposed to be some sort of monster.

"I'm listening," she sighed, leaning her forehead against his. "Whenever you're ready, Jones."

"I said I should apologize," he answered, kissing the end of her nose. "Not that I was going to."

"Well, in that case, we should go before I catch my death out here," she teased. "Then you can take me home to apologize."

"I'd be happy to," he grinned, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Maybe a fire to warm you up as well, love - if you're lucky."

"I guess there's only one way to find out if I am," she retorted, her hands popping his commandeered coat's collar up around her ears. "We should get going, Vlad."

"Vlad, as in-" he smiled, arching an eyebrow. "-The Impaler?"

"Hey, they were your words," she reminded him. "Not mine."

"Fair point, love - and once again, I'm marveled by your historical sense of humor," he replied, a trail of fingertips tickling their way up her spine. "But I've got to say that I prefer Dracula."

"Yeah," she laughed, tilting her head. "Of course you do."