First off, this chapter contains smut (and lots).

Second, whatever my smut writing skills may be, i had to keep re-writing this chap because i had used the term 'grinding' far too much.

Third, it really should not have taken so long for me to post this, and i do apologise.

Fourth, enjoy!

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Holy fuck!

Holy mother of fuck!

Holy mother of all that is fuckable!

It was the morning after and she still hadn't caught her breath. His hand was just resting on her hip and it was instilling emotions in her that were definitely not 'G' rated. His breath was hitting the back of her ear with every exhale, gently tickling her skin that created a cascade of electricity that went straight to her core.

Fuck!

He was sound asleep and the innocent touch of his unconscious body was turning her into nothing more than a horny teenager. She wanted to roll over in his arms and give him the wakeup call all men dreamed of. But she was certain that if she rolled over he would wake.

How different a thought that was? The morning after a one night stand and not only was she – once again – still here, but she wanted to stay here. Again she found herself comprehending her actions. Why was she still here in this gorgeous, sex-god guys arms when the sun was coming up? It wasn't what she did. Once the climax was done she would steal away into the night leaving him to his own snores.

But in hindsight, maybe that was because as good as those nights were, those men never left her in a position of complete immobility. Two nights in a row, and this night more so than the last, he had driven her into a state of ecstasy that she did not believe actually existed up till that point. She could still feel her heart hammering in her chest, still unable to recover from round three.

Their first night had been memorable. It was impossible for it to be improved upon. Then he had to come at her with such an intensity that had her cowering in the bed. Round one had been unbelievably good. Round two had been impossibly good. But it was round three that was going to have her reaching for a cold water bottle for the rest of her life.

The beauty of the multiple orgasm had eluded her. It was a myth, a legend, a complete fabrication that women talked about to challenge others. But it was a real thing, and damn him for making her desperate to experience it again.

Fuck.

She wanted him again, there was no denying it. She wanted round four, and she wanted it now!

Unwilling to roll over and wake him, she did the only other thing that her mind said she could: she wiggled her butt in his crotch. The movement earned a throaty growl to erupt from somewhere deep inside his chest. She took that as a positive response, taking his hand and sliding it up her body and placing it on one of her breasts, covering her flesh completely. His fingers flittered to life beneath her, clamping around her flesh.

"Can't get enough, can you Swan." He grumbled into her ear, taking a moment to press himself completely against her back, and letting her feel his rapidly growing erection.

That was it; she wasn't in the mood for teasing, toying, tormenting or torturing. She wanted him inside of her right, that, second.

She didn't give him a chance to respond as she shifted in his arms, pushing him onto his back, straddling him perfectly. His eyes shot open in surprise as she ground herself down against him, encouraging his almost complete rock. She gasped at the contact of his tip sliding against her dripping folds, her head rolling back as his fingers flirted with her skin.

"Just don't stop touching me." She breathed, sliding her fingers down his chest and stomach, only stopping as she plunged herself down, impaling herself on him.

They both groaned at the contact, more so as she began beating against him, rotating her hips against his as he bucked up into her. He sat up, trying to catch her lips with his as his arms snaked from her hips to her back, but she was too quick for him, pushing him back against the pillows, ignoring his wince as he landed.

To hell with his feelings! He'd spent all night making her feel alive and on fire, she was only seeking to keep it up. He had no one to blame but himself for his current predicament.

"Gods, Emma!" He rasped as their bodies slapped together.

There was nothing soft, delicate or sensual in this current moment. He may have been aptly skilled in fucking her senseless by making love to her, but she was not so talented. Fucking him senseless was only achieved by fucking him senseless. But she didn't care because as mindless as she may have been, it was only because he was inside her, his hands – well, hand – was exploring her skin, his body was against hers.

As she felt her peak swiftly approaching, her walls clamping against him, her movements began to falter. He sensed her failing body and if it wasn't for the fact that she saw his arms move, she would have missed it, but she pegged his arms into the bed as he made to flip them over.

"No, don't do anything." She whimpered, completely breathless and on the brink of oblivion, her body pounding against his.

"I can make you enjoy this so much more." He rasped as she clamped herself around him, dragging his arms from her grasp, but not moving their positions.

"Just, let me." She moaned, working her muscles around him that made his eyes roll back in his head.

With only a few more beats and she was there, pulling him with her as she collapsed against him.

That was better, she thought.

Only it wasn't.

She found an insatiable appetite was filling her as their bodies became two. It was a part of her psyche that she did not believe existed as she rolled off him.

"Fuck." She moaned, her breathing slowly coming back to normal.

"I always preferred 'Good Morning.'" He teased.

She slapped his chest in response, rolling over to face him once she had finally caught her breath.

"Morning." She whispered chastely kissing him.

"That was…"

"Fun." She finished his sentence.

"Aye indeed, and uninterrupted." He added.

"Well after what happened yesterday both my parents should know to always knock from now on." She reasoned, draping her leg between his. "On any door." She added as an afterthought.

"Bloody hell, you really are a siren, aren't you." He growled, trailing his hook along her side.

She shrugged as her lips set to work at his neck. "It's your fault. I was perfectly happy before you fucked me senseless, and now I'm completely at your mercy." She mumbled into his skin.

"Feels more like I'm at your mercy." He responded, her hand delicately tracing an unseen scar along his stomach.

"That's what you picked up from that?" She giggled as he flipped her onto her back. "Not the, 'you fucked me senseless' part?"

His lips dropped onto hers for a heavy kiss. She moaned into him as he pulled one of her legs up, pushing the underside of her thigh into the mattress. When his lips left hers, they also left her breathless, grasping at air.

"Oh I picked up on that." He menaced, his eyes black with lust. "I just haven't finished yet." She whimpered as he slid down her body, not stopping until his lips were upon her most sensitive of nerve bunches.

"Fuck!" She gasped, her back arching into him.

Just as she was bracing herself for the onslaught of awesome that was about to follow, he shifted, his body rising back up hers, his lips, still moist with her, devouring her mouth. It was a thrilling sensation, a thrilling taste. She felt his body shift so his good hand could touch her. She moaned audibly into his mouth as his fingers worked her ceaselessly. His mouth pulled away, his face hovering above hers. She leaned up, trying to reclaim contact but he kept her at bay.

"Uh uh uh." He breathed at her. "My turn. I want to watch you scream for me, watch you enjoy how I destroy all other men for you." He whispered, lowering his lips so they flirted millimeters above hers, even as she leant up to grab hold.

She looked up, distracted by the fire flooding her body. His eyes were boring into hers, a passion in them that only fueled the fire and fanned the flames.

"And I want you to look at me, see that it's me, your one-handed pirate, fucking you senseless with his hand and never having to be inside you to make you scream." She didn't hear his words, only felt them.

She forced her eyes to remain open, staying on his, his fingers sliding beneath her lowest curls. All thoughts eluded her as they stroked their way expertly around, bringing her closer and closer. It was the change of pressure that did it, a finger on the tip of her clitoris in a feather-light caress that had her exploding beneath him, her eyes unable to stay open, her hips bouncing into his hand, desperate for more. His lips finally descended on hers, bruising, his perfect hand sliding over her hip leaving her aching for more.

Fuck his hand.

Fuck his mouth.

Fuck him.

Oh I intend too, a little voice in her head spoke.

Before she had a chance to register what was happening, he flipped her over onto her stomach, pulling her onto her hands and knees and slamming into her. Goddammit, she could barely breathe, barely hold herself up and she was fast falling around him again.

"God Killian why do you have to be so good." She moaned as she felt him pump her deeply.

"It's a gift." He bit into her shoulder, pain shooting through her as his teeth clawed at her skin, but she found herself unable to care, the pleasure in the moment infinitely better.

Every girl dreamed of the guy who would walk into her life who not only professed about being good in bed, but who followed through, and Emma was certain that those men only existed in the movies. Or in the novels that some of her former foster mother's had thought they had hidden so carefully. Still, Emma could only bask in the joy that she had found that guy, that amazing guy who not only wanted to fuck her senseless but also who wanted her at all other times.

Emma didn't know how long he was going to be able to keep this pace up, and she desperately hoped it was for as long as possible because she had no other desire for today than stay in bed and let him turn her into putty.

His hook slid along her back, scraping her skin and she involuntarily arched into it. His fingers bruised her hips but she didn't care about the pain. She didn't care about the bruises or even the wounds he left, she only cared about the pleasure. The things he did to her body were incomprehensible.

It reached a point where if she'd been skilled enough she could count the number of thrusts he needed until her body exploded. And as it did, as her elbows buckled, she felt him erupt inside of her, following her into oblivion. He collapsed on top of her, a mess of bodies and limbs, a pile of exhausted figures unable to admit their bodies had defeated them.

It seemed like an eternity later Emma's eyes opened again. Her entire being ached; exhaustion flooded her brain and it took her an age to figure out why she had awoken. She was still lying on her front, her god and master half lying on her back, still dozing himself. She didn't feel particularly horny, no matter how good his body felt atop hers, which had her raking her mind to work out why she had woken up when she was so bloody tired.

Then she felt the pang in the pit of her abdomen that meant only one thing: she had to pee.

Extracting herself from his body, she immediately felt the chill of the air the moment she was alone. She had absolutely no desire to put on her own clothes again – her coat required pants to keep her warm. Then her eyes landed on his pile of leather.

Grabbing it, she slipped into it, basking in its smell, basking in the glory that even semi-not dressed and alone, he could completely surround her. Doing up a pair of the buttons to maintain some illusion of decency – no one would be fooled by the image but they still covered her – she snuck from the cabin stumbling weakly, her knees failing to hold her weight up, as she moved to the cupboard that Regina had transformed into a makeshift bathroom in Neverland.

'No way in hell am I peeing over the railing!' The (once) Evil Queen had proclaimed after learning the bathroom facilities from the smirking Captain.

Returning to the cabin a few minutes later, Emma found a very disheveled Pirate smirking through his eyelashes peeking over a pillow. She almost lost the ability to stand at the look.

Men like him should have been deemed illegal (but never were they to be turned in).

"Am I dreaming?" He croaked.

"No, you're perfectly awake." She responded, undoing the buttons slowly before him.

"Good." He sat up. "Because I refuse to entertain this fantasy as a dream any longer."

She chuckled as she undid the last button, but did nothing to remove the coat, enjoying the warmth it gave her too much. No wonder he hardly ever took it off.

"You've fantasized about me in your coat?" She purred, stepping toward him.

"Of course I have." He rasped, pulling her onto his lap and into yet another bruising kiss before flipping them over and taking her again.

For the first time in forever, Emma spent the entire day in bed with a man and never once considered the world outside. And she strongly doubted that anyone would deign to judge her for her indulgence of her selfish side. This was the first time in the almost three years that she had lived in Storybrooke that she hadn't thought about Henry, magic, her parents, the curse, anyone else.

Why did she need to?

Her son was happy with her choice. Her mother was happy with her choice; and because her mother was happy her father would be.

And Neal?

Well he was just going to have to get used to it.

For the first time in a long, long time, Emma was truly happy. And that happiness allowed her to lower her guard to let someone into her soul and take over her protection.

When the sun eventually set, Storybrooke was covered in white, not that the two entangled figures aboard the Jolly Roger had even noticed, too wrapped in their own existence.

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