A/n: Fair warning. Smut chapter. Don't like it, don't read it. If you would prefer not to read, skip to the bottom where I will sum up the important plot information.
Disclaimer: I realized I forgot to put these in previous chapters. Whoops! Not mine.
Emma strode to the docks with purpose in her stride and rage in her heart; the Pirate Ship was now docked successfully in Storybrooke's port. At least she wouldn't have to swim out to it. She slowed her pace and paused before the boardwalk. The ship was impressive, she could admit that much. Most little girls dreamed about being princesses; but most of those little girls had families. Emma Swan had only ever dreamed of being a pirate, of going to far off places and having adventures, and never needing anyone except her friends. It seemed like a pretty good dream, when she realized that pirate's didn't seem to have families either and they did just fine on their own.
She reconsidered what she was about to do; she could be walking into a trap, for all she knew, though this seemed less likely given his current infatuation with her. She cleared the doubts plaguing her mind. She had been taking care of herself since she could walk, and she could take care of Hook too - one way or another. He couldn't get away with hurting David. She boarded the ship quickly lest she change her mind. There was no one on deck, but Emma could see a light shining down a passageway into the depths of the ship - the cabins, she realized. She hesitated, her gut warning her about the narrow, dimly lit space with only one visible opening. She clenched her jaw and pressed forward; she'd grown up on the streets, knew more about starting bar fights than breaking them up. She was not afraid.
"I was wondering how long it would take you to make your way here," Hook said, his voice directly behind her left her. She hadn't even heard him come up.
She spun, and the door shut behind her. She could see the outline of his profile in the torch light, could feel how close they were though they weren't touching. He reached out and pushed a door open, the light from the cabin illuminating the hallway. Emma noted that he had returned to pirate garb, though not the black leather she was used to seeing him in.
"Care to join me for a drink?" He asked, stepping into the cabin and leaving the door open. Emma followed him, her curiosity getting the better of her. The cabin was spacious - as most Captain's cabins were, she assumed - and well decorated. A large oak table occupied the space in the middle of the room, various maps and books taking up much of the space, but for for the lower half which had been cleaned off. A pitcher of wine and two goblets had been set on a tray, and Emma felt distinctly uncomfortable with the thought that this was starting to resemble something romantic.
"Care to explain to me why you attacked David?" She replied in return, careful not to venture any further into the room than she had to.
"Well, I had to get your attention somehow, didn't I?" He smirked, shrugging his shoulders.
"Seriously? Your feelings got hurt because I, what, refused your advances, and you thought that attacking my father was a good idea?" Emma snapped, angry.
He set his goblet down and turned to her, his expression going dark. "No, Emma, because you refuse to see what's before your very eyes. Because you refused to acknowledge what is between us, and we needed to talk where we won't be interrupted."
She moved towards him in her anger, ready to throttle him. "There is nothing between us, Hook, nothing. Whatever we are, it is nothing, it means nothing."
"Then why are you here?" He asked sharply, his blue eyes glittering in the candlelight.
"To bring you to justice," Emma said, pulling the handcuffs out of her back pocket. "For the assault of David Nolan,"
His lips twitched upwards into a smirk. "Oh, really? So, you don't feel my fingers trailing over your skin? You can't feel me stroking the back of your neck?" He asked, his glittering, smug eyes boring into hers.
Emma immediately felt the ghostly sensations of his fingertips trailing along her collarbone. She shook her head in defiance, attempting to ignore them. "No, I don't."
He moved more quickly than she anticipated, his right hand stealing the cuffs from her and his hook ripping the sword from her waist. She was frozen for a moment, taken by surprise at his actions, but retreated when she came to her senses. She bolted for the door, a small voice in the back of her mind whispering 'I told you this was a bad idea,'. Hook reached the door before she did, slamming it shut. He shook his head at her when she squared her shoulders, glaring at him.
"You know, for someone who grew up on the wrong side of the law, you're not a very good liar."
"Let me go," Emma ordered, sounding every bit the imperious Princess she had been born to be; Hook bolted the door shut in response.
"No, I think we need to get this sorted out," He said calmly, waiting for her to make the first move.
"There's nothing to sort out," She snapped, feeling caged.
"Oh, yes there is," He snarled back, moving forward to stand directly in front of her. Emma refused to retreat again, not backing down from his challenge.
"How is this not driving you mad, Emma? I know you can feel them - the phantom touches, the feeling of our skin pressed together, of my lips on yours. They are driving me mad," He admitted, breathless. Emma felt warm all over, the phantom touches returning with vigor; she noted that he looked flushed too.
"I can't think of anything else, Emma, except you," He bit out, wild-eyed and visibly frustrated. "I have spent three hundred years planning my revenge, working towards this goal, and now when all my plans are ready to come to fruition, the only thing I can think of is you!" His arms encircled her waist and pulled her forward; she stumbled, stunned, and shuddered with the sensation of their bodies pressed together. Their skin was separated by clothing, but Emma could feel every raw, hot nerve in her body tremble with the contact.
"Tell me you don't want this, and tell the truth, and I will let you go," He commanded, his voice rough and low. He leaned forward tentatively, his forehead resting against hers. Even this simple action made Emma's heart race, and a fire ignited beneath her skin.
She opened her mouth to tell him that she didn't want him, that none of this mattered and that they would both be better off avoiding each other, and stopped. Their breaths were mingling, and Emma could taste the rum and pipe tobacco in his exhale. Her mind clouded over and the room began to feel unbearably warm; she closed her mouth.
"We can't do this," She said instead, refusing to be a hypocrite and denying the attraction. "Something... isn't right. This isn't right,"
Killian gently pushed her backwards until her thighs hit the back of the table, his arms came around on either side of her and swept the various books and maps off the table, continuing to push her until she obligingly hopped up on the table, her thighs spread apart. He stepped between her legs and pulled her closer, their hips connecting intimately through their clothing. Emma placed her hands on his chest, using her arms as a buffer if she felt the need to push him away. He rolled his hips experimentally against hers, and Emma bit back a gasp, her fingers clenching the lapels of his jacket. He leaned into her, repeating the motion. "Swan, there haven't been a lot of right things in my life - but this, this is right,"
Emma looked up at him, her eyes searching his for a trace of a lie, for some indicator that this was all a game and she should shove him away immediately; there was none. She glanced down. She could feel his entire body tense beneath her hands, could feel the taut muscles strained beneath his red vest. His right hand came to cup her cheek, tilting her head back slightly; she trembled beneath his touch, feeling the fire coiling in her belly. It was he who broke the stalemate. His fingers threaded through her hair and his lips descended on hers with all the passion he could muster. Emma felt something inside her snap, and all rational thought flew from her mind. Her hands clenched the lapels of his coat, yanking him forward.
His tongue ravaged the inside of her mouth, his teeth nipped and bruised her lower lip; Emma slipped her hands underneath his coat and slid it off his shoulders. His hand briefly released her and the coat slithered to the ground obligingly. He reached with his hook and tore a small strip in the middle of her shirt; she protested and was promptly silenced by a none-too-gentle nip of her lower lip. His lips traveled down her neck, nipping and sucking as he went, bruising the pale skin of her throat with marks of his passion. His lips reached her collarbone and he paused there, showing special attention to each inch of flesh exposed. His teeth reached the strip of fabric he had torn with his hook. His eyes met hers, the cloth beneath his teeth, and ripped it straight down the middle. The shirt parted and Emma let it slide off her shoulders and done her back, revealing the simple black bra she had elected to wear that day.
His tongue lapped at her navel, leaving soft, wet kisses from her belly button to her ribcage. He brought the tip of his hook to the inside of her bra, ready to rip it as he had her shirt; Emma had had enough of the one being teased. Locking her eyes with his, she lowered her mouth to the metal and kissed it. Her lips pursed around it, sucking on it gently; Killian was still, frozen in the moment, his eyes fixed on the sight before him. Emma reached around her back and unhooked her bra slowly, her tongue reaching out to delicately graze the tip of the hook. She straightened slightly and pulled her bra off delicately, letting it drop to the floor. Hook's eyes followed the motion, his pupils going wide at her coy smile as she slipped one finger into the top of his vest, tugging until each button came undone.
He was panting now, and Emma had the satisfaction of thinking that he probably wasn't even aware that he was doing it. It also occurred to her that this was probably the first time he had been seduced, instead of doing the seducing. Taking his hook in her hand, she turned the point on himself and dragged it down the middle of his shirt, which tore obligingly. She released his hook, which she hooked onto a belt loop of her jeans, and ripped the shirt the rest of the way, revealing his broad chest. She slipped off the table and stood before him, pulling him closer to her; she kissed his neck first, then his collarbone, and laid butterfly kisses all the way down his chest, occasionally nipping at the scars he bore. Lowering her lashes, Emma pressed an open kiss to his nipple, her tongue swirling around it gently. He inhaled sharply, and suddenly his hand was buried in her hair, yanking her head backwards; she yelped, startled for a moment, until his lips descended on her breast, sucking, licking, biting until the only sounds she could make were wanton keens.
His kisses grew more passionate, more insistent, more hungry as the frenzy increased. Emma growled in response to a particularly harsh nip, and boldly unlaced his pants with her right hand just enough to squeeze inside; she gripped his dick in her hand and felt him shudder in response as she began to gently stroke and tug. His lips left her breasts and found hers, punishing her for her teasing ways. Emma sank into the kiss, having never quite felt anything this intense before. Having sex with Neal had been sweet, slow, loving, but this... this was a different animal altogether. Their lips engaged, Emma's hands disengaged and worked on unbuttoning her jeans; Killian's lips broke from hers and latched onto her pulse point, sucking harshly. Emma knew she was going to have one helluva hickey to hide come the morning. Busy as he was with her neck, he apparently noted the progress she had made with her jeans; before the zipper was completely down, his good hand was yanking the jeans below her ass, and his fingers sought out her core.
Emma relished the feeling of his calloused, skillful fingers stroking her inner heat; she bit back a moan as he stroked her, teasing her to release. Not one to let him get away with it, her own hand sought his member, giving it a particularly sharp tug when he pinched her nub roughly. She mewled under his ministrations but gave as good as she got; he groaned with her reciprocation. An intensely low growl erupted from his throat, and he abruptly pulled his hand away and spun her around; Emma lay flat over the table, her breasts pressed into the oak. Killians hand wrapped around her waist, his fingers bruising her hip; he thrust into her without warning, and Emma couldn't help the moan that escaped her. Neither could he help the sharp gasp when she squeezed him. He leaned over her, pressing further into her.
"Hell, Emma, so tight," He hissed in her ear, placing a gentle kiss into her shoulder. Emma pushed backwards, pressing more firmly into him. He pulled halfway out and thrust in abruptly, causing the table to creak under their weight. The rhythm began to form as Killian began to lose himself to the lust; Emma was already long gone by the time their rutting began. Emma bore her weight on the table, pressing against it to gather more firm friction as Killian thrust into her wildly. She jutted against him, causing him to stagger backwards slightly, and took the opportunity to turn around and face him. She hoisted herself on the table and beckoned him forward with one crooked finger. He came forward quickly, obediently, and thrust into her the moment her legs wrapped around his waist. His lips left trails of fire over her skin; her fingers dug into his hair, tugging it to direct his mouth where to move.
His eyes cleared for a moment, the feral nature evaporating as he took in the sight before him; Emma, bare and writhing underneath him, her head tipped back in ecstasy. Her eyes met his, heavy-lidded with lust and pleasure, and Killian knew, without a doubt, that he would see her this way again - one way, or another.
"I told you my dear," He whispered into the shell of her ear, catching her earlobe between his lips. "I prefer to do much more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back."
Emma growled and squeezed him in response; he hissed and shuddered within her. She smirked. "A taste of your own medicine, Killian," She whispered back, rocking her hips slowly. He shuddered, his breath coming out in harsh pants.
"Say it again," He ordered, his tone dipping a decibel.
"Killian?" She asked, her tone teasing. He picked her up from the table, causing her arms to lock around his neck. He thrust upwards, his shoulders becoming her only anchor. "Killian," She murmured again, noting the quick response she received every time she said it. His cock twitched within her, seeming to grow bigger every time she said his name. She could feel her orgasm approaching, and so could he; her folds tightened around him, her nails digging deeply into his back. He was approaching his end too; he bit down into her shoulder, hard, and tasted the blood in his mouth; fair trade, for the claw marks she was leaving in his back. They came together and the world exploded in color, and a bright golden light filled the room.
Killian sank to the floor, Emma's legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, and kissed her with all the desperation of a dying man. He lay her down on the floor and covered her body with his, placing warm kisses over every inch of sun kissed skin. It took him a moment for his eyes to adjust; they widened.
"Emma, love, I do believe you're glowing," He murmured looking over her bare body with uninhibited fascination.
She rolled her eyes and raised an eyebrow. "Really, you're fishing for compliments now?"
He grinned at her, swooping down for a kiss. "No, love, I mean you're literally glowing," He replied, holding up one of her hands for inspection.
It was then that Emma noticed what he meant; a warm golden glow seemed to radiate from every pore of her skin.
"What the hell?" She asked, frowning.
A/n: So, for those of you who skipped (if any), Emma and Hook had sex and Emma started literally glowing. Something magic-y is going on. Yep.
2, 800 words for those two important plot points. I always knew those skills of stretching out lengthy points in essays had to come from somewhere... Review please! They are the best thing I could ever receive this week - because, it's finals week and I probably won't be able to post anything until much, much later. Thanks for reading!