Author's note: Part 4. As of right now, this is a final part. As with all my stories, I might come back to it if the inspiration strikes. Enjoy!
Revelation
Emma huffed as she pulled her hair back while she sat at the stoplight. It was hasty, sloppy, but it was so damn hot that she didn't care. Sometimes she thought about cutting her long hair, just chopping it off, but she could never go through with it. Killian loved her hair.
Killian. Father Jones. She should not be thinking about him.
Six weeks. She hadn't seen him for six weeks. He'd been unexpectedly summoned to the Archdiocese, leaving her with a brief text message to let her know where he'd gone. She half expected him to simply forget her, to move on with his life, but he'd texted her the moment he returned. She didn't want to admit to herself how much she missed him, how relieved she was when he came back, how much she looked forward to their flirty texts and calls. It was far too risky while he was away; the whole time she lived in terror that they'd been discovered somehow.
What would happen then? What did she want to happen?
She huffed in annoyance; feelings were not going to help her in this heat. Her Bug was starting to smoke dangerously; all she wanted right then was to get home. Home to her dingy little apartment with her TV and a bowl full of popcorn and milk duds.
The light finally changed; she pulled out, ignoring the ominous rumble of the Bug's ancient engine. She'd meant to get it serviced, but it was expensive. The Bug was an old car; it was becoming increasingly difficult to find a mechanic to fix it for a reasonable price. Bailbonds wasn't exactly a lucrative profession. Most of what she made went right back into her work, buying surveillance equipment and such. Whatever was left allowed her to splurge occasionally on a fancy dress or a new laptop. Even those things often went into her work; it wasn't unheard of for her to fake a date to meet a mark.
The fact that she hadn't done that in almost a year didn't mean anything. Absolutely not.
The Bug gave another dangerous belch; Emma tightened her grip on the wheel. She just needed to get to her building. She'd deal with the rest later.
No sooner did she think that than her car shuddered and hissed. Thinking quickly, she managed to pull off to the side of the road, where her beloved car thudded to a halt. "Damn it." She waited for the traffic to pass before hurriedly getting out of the car. Smoke and steam poured out the rear; she burned her fingers trying to open the hatch. The heat was intense; she coughed as she stumbled back. "Son of a bitch!"
Finally, she did manage to get the thing open, but she could see nothing but steam and hot metal. She wasn't a car person, but she knew enough to realize her Bug wasn't going anywhere. It probably needed coolant and bunch of other things she didn't want to think about. Stubbornly, she stared at it for a good ten minutes, trying to will it to work. When it became clear that wasn't going to accomplish anything, she fished out her phone. She didn't have AAA or anything like that, so she just had to roll the dice. There wasn't anyone she could call; she didn't have anything like a friend in this town.
Or did she?
Emma bit her lip, staring at the phone. There was someone she could call. At least she thought she could? The question was: did she want to call him? Calling him meant something, something she wasn't sure she was ready to confront.
"Hey there, miss! Are you okay? Do you need some help?"
Emma looked up, confused. "What?"
The young man in the truck smiled, looking her up and down. "I asked if you needed some help, ma'am."
Okay, the guy definitely looked more interested in her than her car. "Um, no. But thanks."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh, yeah." She waved her phone. "Someone's on the way."
"Suit yourself." The moment the guy pulled away, Emma dialed.
The tension went out of her the moment she heard his voice. "Swan?"
"Um, hi, Killian." She'd only ever called him for sex; how did she ask for help?
"Swan?" She sounded…nervous? "Is something wrong, love?"
Just do it, Emma. "No. Um, yeah? I'm sure you're busy, but, uh…" She blew out a breath. "My car broke down. I'm kinda stuck."
Killian tucked his phone in the crook of his shoulder as he stood, his heart pounding. He could hear the cars roaring past wherever she was. It was loud. "Where are you, Emma? Are you safe?"
She covered her left ear with her hand to hear him better. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay. Just pissed. Damn car."
"You love that car," he replied, almost to himself. It was a Thursday; he had no commitments at the church. He stuffed his wallet into his jeans and snatched his car keys off the table. "Listen, just tell me where you are, and I'll be there as soon as I can."
"You don't have to…"
"Swan. I'm coming. Just sit tight, yeah? Where are you?"
She leaned against her car, alternately relieved and scared. It meant a lot that he was dropping everything to come for her. And that frightened the crap out of her. She let him know her location, already taking mental stock of her resources to get the damn car fixed.
After they hung up, Killian dialed his mechanic. It might be a bit presumptuous of him, but he couldn't stop the urge to take care of her. Emma was such a strong person, but even the strongest person needed a helping hand every now and then. God helped those who helped themselves, after all. Hopefully, Emma wouldn't be too offended. He thought it was a good sign that she called him. He'd missed her fiercely during his trip; it felt like it would never end. He'd just returned the night before; there hadn't been time to do much more than let her know he was back. He wanted—needed—to see her. He simply felt off kilter without her. Which was terrible, but he didn't know how to stop it. Worse, he didn't want it to stop.
He loved her.
Emma gathered the few possessions she needed from the car, then leaned back to wait. It was far too hot to wait in the car; unfortunately, that meant she had to wait in the hot sun. Her would be Samaritan wasn't the first; at least three more men stopped to offer help. She brushed them off with more confidence than she truly felt. She was placing her trust in Killian; it could blow up in her face, just like every other time she tried trusting a man. Still, she couldn't help the tiny voice that told her that he was different. That Killian was worthy of her trust and it had nothing to do with him being a priest.
Crunching gravel got her attention; an old black Ford Mustang pulled up behind her Bug. She almost didn't recognize the driver; Killian was dressed in sleeveless t-shirt and jeans, his dark fringe hanging in his eyes. If she didn't know he was a priest, she would have thought he was just another of the men that had tried to pick her up. Instead, she was just relieved to see him.
Killian growled a little as he waited for the traffic to clear long enough for him to get out. Slamming the door shut behind him, he dashed over to Emma, wrapping her up in a hug. "Swan, are you okay?"
She blushed a little as she hugged him back; it surprised her how much better she felt in his arms. "Yeah, I'm okay."
He held her close, tenderly cupping her cheek. "I'd really like to kiss you right now."
She blushed harder; she wanted to kiss him too, but it was impossible out in the open. Hugging her was dangerous enough. "Rain check?"
"Aye." He squeezed her waist then stepped back. "Have you called a mechanic?"
"No," she said, frustrated. "I don't know anyone here."
"Well, don't take this the wrong way, lass, but I took the liberty of calling someone I know."
She thought about being upset, but she was too tired and frustrated. "Thanks, Killian."
"He should be here in a few minutes. Is there anywhere you want to go?"
"Honestly? I just want to go home."
Killian smiled in understanding. "Of course, lass. We'll get you there." It occurred to him that he had no idea where she lived; all their encounters took place either at the church or his cottage. He never pushed her for more than she was willing to give; something in her past scarred her. Badly.
Emma shoved her hands in her pockets. "Sorry about this. I just…didn't know who else to call."
Killian tenderly touched her chin, coaxing her to look at him. "I'm glad you called, love."
Her lips quirked up in a half smile. It was cute. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." He needed to show her how much he truly cared about her, but this wasn't the place. "I was actually going to call you. It's…good to see you, Swan."
She fought the urge to reach for him. "It's good to see you too." I missed you.
Her green eyes told him everything he needed to know. I missed you too.
Killian's mechanic friend appeared with his tow truck soon after; it took about twenty minutes to get the Bug hitched to the truck and on its way to the shop. Emma felt a little forlorn as she watched her trusty car roll away; she could still remember the times she lived out of it. She was in a much better place now, but it was a powerful reminder of how far she'd come in life.
Killian slipped his arm around her waist, sensing her sadness. "You'll get her back, love. Good as new."
"It's a car not a she."
He chuckled. "Oh really? So you haven't named your mode of transportation?"
She wrinkled her nose. "What? No! No one names their cars, Father Jones."
"I do."
"You do?"
"Aye."
She looked askance at him. "Okay, Father. Spill it."
"She's the Jolly Roger. Jolly for short."
"As in Peter Pan?"
"I enjoyed it as a child," he said, a little defensive.
Emma laid her hand on his chest. "Hey, I was just teasing. I, uh, liked Peter Pan too."
He smiled, a beaming happy smile that made her feel all warm inside. "Something else we have in common." He gestured toward his car. "Shall we?"
"Okay." Killian opened the door for her; Emma rolled her eyes as she climbed in. It smelled like him, woodsy and clean. It took him another minute to get in; the evening traffic held him up.
The Mustang started with a satisfying roar and he eased them onto the road. "Where to, milady?"
"Home. I'm starving."
"I gathered that, love. But I, uh, don't know where you live."
"Oh. Right." She gave him her address, the knowledge hitting her like a ton of bricks. Killian had never been in her apartment! Hell, she'd never even told him where she lived! In nearly a year! Before him, she was a one night stand kind of girl; she never brought men home with her. But the truth was Emma hadn't been with anyone else since they'd begun this…whatever it was. Affair? Liaison? They weren't dating; priests didn't date. Priests weren't supposed to have sex either, but that little fact hadn't stopped them so far.
They fell into an awkward silence; neither knew what to say. Emma muttered directions as they went; before she knew it, they were pulling into the garage of her building. They had to pull into the visitor parking, since Killian didn't have a pass. He gallantly helped her gather her things; she almost wished he wouldn't. Because it meant he was coming up with her.
"Swan?"
"Sorry, were you saying something?"
Killian frowned; he could feel her withdrawing again. "Nothing."
That just made her feel like an asshole. He was only trying to help her. And she did care about him, despite knowing she shouldn't. "It really means a lot that you came, Killian. Thank you."
"Any time, love."
She laid her hand on his arm. "I mean it. I'm not…good at this. I never have been. But I do care about you, Killian. A lot."
He smiled hopefully, her answering smile was light itself. For his entire adult life, he sought solace in his God, his Church, his Bible. And yet he'd never found the kind of peace he found in her smile. What did that mean for him? Who was he without his calling?
The elevator opened; Killian followed her to her apartment. She seemed a little shy as she let him in. "Sorry if it's a mess."
"It's fine." Her apartment wasn't a mess; it was surprisingly tidy. Small, barely furnished, but tidy. A beige couch lay in the center of the room across from the television that was mounted on the wall. A single coffee table completed the living room; it was simple but functional.
"I don't need much," Emma found herself saying; she didn't know why she was trying to explain. Killian wouldn't judge her, at least she didn't think he would. "Actually, I think this might be even more spartan than your place."
Tentatively, Killian stepped into her space, lightly stroking the small of her back. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Swan."
Emma placed her box of supplies on the small kitchen island, biting her lip. She didn't know why she was so nervous; this was Killian. The priest she'd been fucking for months. But it was more than that; it always had been. She'd vowed to end this a thousand times, yet could never bring herself to say the words. She missed him when he was gone. Not just the sex, but him. He was funny and clever; for some reason, she felt like he got her. It was frightening. And exciting.
And she really needed to kiss him.
Then, as if by magic, he was there. Tall, strong, handsome, with those eyes, the ones that saw right through her. They reached for each other at precisely the same moment, lips crashing together in mutual desire. Emma ran her hands over the tantalizing exposed skin of his biceps, moaning as he backed her against the island.
"Missed you," he said between kisses.
"Me too." The edge of the counter dug into her back, but the pain didn't bother her. His hands slid under her shirt and she shivered. "So much."
Killian broke the kiss, heart pounding in his ears, his forehead touching hers. "My lovely Swan."
She carded her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck; it was soft. "Interesting look for a priest," she teased, an impish smile on her lips.
"You like it?"
"Hmmm, very much." She knew what he looked like naked, how delectable he was in his priest garb, but this was very much for the good too. Emma dropped her hands to his waist, looping her fingers through his belt loops and drawing him to her. "I like you." Her lips brushed his, feelings she couldn't control bubbling up in her chest. And maybe she didn't want to control what she felt anymore. Maybe, with him, her feelings were safe.
Killian kissed her back, sensing the change in her, the shift. The passion they felt was there, but there was more to it now, an emotional connection that grew stronger with every touch. Still, he wanted her to be sure. "Swan? I thought you were hungry?"
Food was the last thing on her mind. She shook her head. "Take me to bed, Father Jones."
He groaned; those words on her lips still made him crazy for her. He ducked down to pick her up, encouraging her to lock her legs around his hips. They made out all the way to the bedroom, Killian kicking the door shut behind them.
"Fuck, that's hot," Emma muttered in his ear, biting down on his lobe.
"Minx." He threw her down on the bed; it was larger than his. "Did my Swan splurge on her bed?"
Emma smiled, slow and seductive, throwing herself into this. This she understood. Part of her wanted to understand this thing between them, but she was so fucking scared. It helped to get lost in him, in their undefinable connection, rather than examine her own feelings. "A girl needs her beauty sleep, Father."
He nodded in agreement. "You certainly are that, love." He crawled in after her, over top of her, forcing her back against the soft mattress. She cupped his scruffy cheeks as he kissed her, relishing the way his weight felt. She spread her legs easily, moaning at the feel of him. "Emma."
"Touch me," she pleaded, fisting his shirt. "I need you so much."
Killian sat up long enough to strip off his t-shirt, smirking as his lover followed suit. She wore a simple blue bra; he palmed her through the fabric as Emma braced herself on her elbows. Her head fell back, exposing her long pale throat, begging for his lips. Killian didn't hesitate to suck a mark into her neck, red and angry. Emma writhed under him, trying to grind her crotch against his.
"Patience, darling," he soothed, reaching behind her to unhook her bra. Together, they got it off, Killian's thumbs going instantly to her nipples, slowly stroking them into hardness.
"You were gone," she complained, back arching.
"I know. I'm sorry." Until Killian's trip, they'd seen each other at least once a week, unable to stay away from each other. More often if they could manage it. It was like they were addicted to each other. "Did you think of me, love? I thought of you. Every night."
She jutted her chin out defiantly. "No."
He smirked. "Liar." He continued to massage her breasts, knowing it drove her crazy. "Tell me, Swan. Tell me you missed me as much as I did you."
Rather than deny it again—which they both knew would be a lie—Emma pushed herself up and rolled them over, leaving Killian on his back. She guided his hands back to her breasts, then slid her own down to her jeans, deftly popping the button. "Let me show you?"
"Oh yes," he breathed, riveted as she slipped her hand under the waistband of her underwear. Her beautiful face was a mask of pleasure as she touched herself, lips parted in a soft O.
Emma deftly circled her clit, wetness flooding her core. It was intensely erotic, her lover watching her. Killian may be a priest, but he was also a man, one who looked at her like she was a goddess. It was intoxicating. "Fuck, Killian," she breathed, shoving her hand deeper, the teeth of her zipper digging into her skin. It pinched a little, but the pain only fueled her need. "Missed you so much. Wanted you."
He moaned, dropping his hands to her thighs. She was grinding against her hand now, whimpering with pleasure. He tried to pull her jeans down, so he could see better, his cock twitching with need. "Wanted you too, Swan," he promised. "I always want you." In the last year, she'd turned his entire world upside down, and God help him, he didn't want it to end.
"Imagined you," she whispered, pushing two fingers inside her slick heat. "Touching me. Kissing me." She shuddered, fingers finding her g spot. "God, fucking me. So good, always so good, Father Jones."
He could feel her trembling, barely hanging on to sanity. "Come, my darling," he coaxed. "Let me see you fall apart."
She nodded absently, bracing one hand on his chest as she chased her high with the other. The wave crested hard, her body shaking, her eyes screwed shut. Killian caught her before she could fall, cradling her against his chest as he eased her onto her back. Emma panted for air, smiling in acquiescence as he peeled her jeans, socks and panties from her body. His own jeans were painfully tight; he took her post orgasmic haze as an opportunity to free himself of their confines.
"Killian?"
"Shh, love." He smiled as he dropped to his knees, gently easing her legs apart. She was gloriously bare, wet and pink; he could smell her arousal. All for him. This wonderful, incredible creature wanted him. She desired him. In seminary, he was taught that his desires were a sin, incompatible with his calling to ministry. But how could this be a sin? How could his feelings be wrong? Everything he felt with Emma felt right. Like he finally understood who he was and what he wanted.
Above all else, he wanted her. If that was a sin, then he was prepared for the consequences.
Inhaling deeply, he dived in, licking a long stripe over her glistening sex. Her answering moan was music to his ears, spurring him on. He focused on her clit, alternately licking and sucking, his arms wrapping around her thighs to hold her down. Emma keened, a long wailing cry, back bowing off the bed. "God, fuck!" she gasped, fisting the sheets. "Don't stop!"
He pressed a kiss to her clit, chuckling warmly. "Killian will do, lass. Just Killian."
She looked down at him, her green eyes blown wide with lust, a lazy smile on her lips. "Killian," she agreed. "My Killian."
"Yours," he confirmed. He kept his eyes on hers as he tended her clit, thumb brushing over it rhythmically. She squirmed and moaned, teeth digging into her plump lower lip. "Entirely yours." Killian ducked down to lap at her hole, her arousal dripping now, so wet for him. He took great relish tasting her, bringing her to the brink, never quite letting her fall. She writhed and begged, almost crying in frustration.
"Please," she cried, desperately trying to thrust against his face. "Please!
"Dreamed of you," he confided, finally pushing three fingers into her. "You naked and wanting, begging for me to fuck you. Is that what you want, Swan?"
He was torturing her on purpose, but she secretly loved every moment. He made her feel so much, things she never believed could be real. She needed this to be real. She needed him. "Please, Killian. Need to feel you. Missed you so much."
He grinned, pulling his fingers out so he could climb back into the bed. She went to him eagerly, capturing his lips in a fiery kiss. Killian jerked her leg over his hip, groaning as his cock rubbed over her intimately. "Guide me home, love," he whispered between kisses. "Please."
Emma did as he asked, reaching between them. She gasped as the very tip of his cock pressed firmly against her hole, melting into a low moan as he entered her slowly, stretching her, filling her. It had been so long, far too long, since she felt him inside her; she wanted to weep at how incredible he felt. His cock was the largest she'd ever had; even better, he wanted to please her. They made out sloppily as he pumped in and out of her, just enjoying the feeling of being one once more.
"Emma, Emma, Emma," he panted, hissing every time her nails dug into his skin. "So good, you feel so fucking good, darling."
She grabbed his shoulders and pulled with surprising strength, rolling them onto her back. He was heavy, pressing her into the mattress, but it was exactly what she needed. "Don't leave me," she panted, arching as he sank deeper. "Fuck, don't ever leave me again."
"Never," he swore, hitching her right leg under his arm, hips snapping harder into hers. She cried out in pleasure, his cock hitting her just right. "Fucking hell, Swan."
"Harder," she demanded. "Harder!" She missed him so much; she needed him imprinted on her body. She kissed him deeply as he heeded her, her heel digging into his back. Her climax surprised her, coming suddenly and hard, her walls clamping down on his long thick cock. She screamed as she fell, arching against him, nails raking down his back. Killian hissed, the pain sharp but exquisite, fueling his own high. He came with a grunt, rutting into her jerkily, filling her with his seed.
Emma groaned as her lover collapsed on top of her, but she didn't mind. He was warm and solid, something else she missed while he was gone. When he did roll off her, she followed, curling into his chest like it was the most natural thing in world. She felt his lips brush her brow, so tender, and she abruptly felt her stomach drop.
What had she done? What had she said? Don't leave me, she'd said. Don't leave me.
Killian felt her tense. "Swan? Emma? What's the matter?"
"Nothing," she said quickly. Rather than enjoy the afterglow of amazing sex, Emma jumped up, dashing for the bathroom. The door slammed behind her, leaving Killian bewildered. It was cowardly, she hated herself for it, but the panic had set in. Why had she said that? Why did he make her feel like this? What was happening to her? Emma moved on autopilot, using the facilities, cleaning herself up. She splashed water on her face, trying to get a rein on her emotions.
What the hell was she going to do? She hadn't meant it. Had she? What they had was just sex. No, that wasn't true. She truly had missed him; the rich sound of his voice, the way he held her, touched her, listened to her. Killian seemed genuinely interested in her little life; over and over again, she found herself opening up to him, eager to tell him about her days. But she knew this feeling. It only led to anguish and hurt. Plus he was a fucking priest. They couldn't be more, even if she wished it. Which she didn't.
So why did her chest hurt?
A gentle knock got her attention. "I'm fine."
"All due respect, love, but I don't think you are. May I come in?"
Emma squared her shoulders and opened the door. She pushed past him toward her dresser, where she grabbed an oversized sweatshirt and yanked it on. She felt less vulnerable now, but not better. She couldn't look at him as she climbed under the covers of her bed. She had no idea what to say.
Killian took his cue from her, pulling on his boxers before joining her. Something was wrong, very, very wrong. He wasn't leaving until he knew what it was. He couldn't bear seeing her like this. "Have I…upset you somehow?"
"What? I'm not upset," she lied.
"You're not a very good liar, Swan."
"Just what is that supposed to mean?"
He turned on his side to face her. "It means that not ten minutes ago you were blissfully happy and now you can't even look at me. Either I've done something to offend you or there's something else going on. Talk to me, love."
She still couldn't look at him. "You didn't do anything, Killian." He'd done nothing except be wonderful to her.
"Then what is it, lass? I hate seeing you so unhappy."
She sighed, exasperated. "What are we doing here, Killian? What is this between us?" Hot tears stung her eyes. "Because it…it feels like something, but it can't, right? We can't." We can't be together.
As wretched as he felt for her distress, he couldn't quench the spark of hope in his chest. She felt something for him. That was everything. "I asked you the same thing once," he reminded her. "Do you remember what you said?"
Her heart sank. "Does it have to be something."
"Aye. And I went along with that, because I thought it was what you wanted. I was terrified of losing you, you see."
She turned to him at last, eyes glassy and wide as saucers. It broke his heart. "You were?"
He smiled softly. "I was. Still am, in fact."
"Why?"
He took a chance, brushing some of her golden hair away from her face. "Because I'm in love with you, Emma."
"But you can't. You're a priest." She wanted so badly to believe, but it seemed impossible. Everything about them seemed impossible.
"I was a man before I was a priest, Swan. I have struggled with this. Thoughts of you tortured me long before the day in my office. I've tried. I've prayed. I begged the Lord to give me some kind of sign, but all I can see is you. My beautiful, stubborn Swan."
Tears spilled onto her cheeks, profoundly moved by his speech. She reached out, tentatively threading her fingers through his. He squeezed back encouragingly, an embarrassed smile on his lips. It took her a few breaths to compose herself, to swallow down the lump in her throat. "I've never felt like this," she confessed. "Once, a long time ago, I thought…I thought I loved someone but…"
"You don't have to tell me, love."
She shook her head emphatically. "But I do." She set her jaw. "I was young, on the run from another shitty foster home. He was…older than me. I thought he loved me. But it was all a scam. He set me up for his crime."
"I am so sorry, darling."
She sniffed. "When I got out…I worked hard, you know? I tried to build a life. But one with no ties, no real home. I couldn't let anyone in, because I was always the one who got hurt." She smiled wetly as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it.
"I don't intend to let you down."
"You really mean that."
"I do." He sighed. "When I was in the seminary, I wondered what hell would be like. It haunted my dreams. Fire and brimstone, endless pain. I read everything I could find on it, terrified that I would end up there. That I wasn't pure enough to attain heaven."
Emma stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. This was the most she'd ever heard him speak of his religion. "I thought I could work through it by ministering to others, helping them with their faith. And it did help for a while. Until a gorgeous blonde walked into my church."
"I didn't mean to."
"Emma, you did nothing wrong. Meeting you has changed my life. For the better. I was mired in doubt, hiding behind the ritual of the Church. I love the Lord, I believe in his Message. But I love you more. Being with you feels right. I feel at peace the moment I see you or hear your voice. You are real, what I feel for you is real. Turning my back on that would be denying a fundamental part of myself. But I would, if that was what you wanted."
"Don't do that," she said fervently. "I'm not worth that."
"You are," he replied with equal fervor. "You don't know how special you are, Swan."
"But where does that leave us?" She was painfully aware that she was avoiding the words he wanted to hear, the words he deserved. They were on the tip of her tongue, but they refused to come out. "Isn't being a priest kind of a lifelong thing?"
"It can be, but I think I've well and truly shattered my vows. With not a single regret," he continued, as she opened her mouth to argue. "I can't imagine not being with you."
"Really?"
"These last few weeks have been torture. I can't tell you the number times I wanted to call or text. I missed you more than I thought I could miss someone."
"Me too. I tried not to, but I can't make it stop. I…I…"
He pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I know," he said seriously. If she was this distraught about their relationship, he didn't need the words.
"You really want to be with me?"
"If you'll have me."
She smiled brilliantly and drew his lips to hers, sealing their confessions with a kiss. Killian pulled her close, hastily yanking the blanket out of the way so their bodies were flush. Emma snuggled against him, drawn to his warmth, his chest hair tickling her nose. "So hairy, Father Jones."
He laughed, low and rich. "That a complaint, Swan?"
"Nope. I just never expected a priest to be hairy."
"What did you expect?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. You're the first sexy priest I've met."
"Sexy, eh?" He ran his hand over her hip, pushing her sweatshirt up. "Care to elaborate?"
"Don't push your luck, buddy." She was lying, her fingers already nudging at his boxers.
"What happened to Father Jones?"
"I hear he'd going need a new title soon." She smiled at him as they eased the cloth over his hips.
"I think he'll always be Father Jones to you, Swan." He skimmed his hand over her belly, enjoying the way her breathing hitched. "You like it too much. Corrupting a man of God."
She raked her nails down his chest, a shiver racing down her spine. "Willingly corrupted, I hope?"
"Oh yes." He kissed her hard, easing her onto her back so he could touch every inch of her. Emma swallowed heavily as he dived under the comforter, his mouth hot on her skin. She struggled to get the heavy sweatshirt over her head, keening as he latched onto a nipple. "Hang onto the headboard, love," he commanded softly. "You're mine."
The comforter ripped away as she did so, curling her fingers around the wood. Killian wasted no time, suckling her breasts until each nipple puckered, waves of lust building in her core. "More, Killian."
He smacked her hip playfully. "It's Father Jones, lass."
She wet her lips, biting back the moan that bubbled in her throat. "Please, Father Jones."
"Please what?"
"Cleanse me of my sin," she breathed, chest heaving. "Please, Father."
No matter his vocation in life, he would never tire of his love using his first title. He tenderly kissed her mound, his eyes never leaving hers. "What sin, my child? Confess so you can receive absolution."
She groaned loudly, the ache building within her. "Lust," she breathed. "Wanting someone I shouldn't." She felt his finger circle her swollen clit, just enough to tease. "Oh god!"
"Who?" he demanded, spreading her legs wider. "Who do you want?"
"Someone forbidden. A man of the cloth."
He smirked, pressing a little more firmly on her nub. "What do you do about these thoughts, Miss Swan?"
She squeezed the rungs, trying to ease some of the growing tension in her body. "Masterbate," she hissed, her hips rocking, trying to grind against him.
"How?"
"Sometimes I touch myself. Sometimes I use the showerhead to get off."
"Is that all?"
"I have…toys. Something to fill me up when it's too much to bear."
It was his turn to groan, his cock quickly swelling to full mast. "Where?"
She nodded toward her tiny dresser. "Top drawer, to the left." She whimpered as he left her, kicking off his boxers before crossing the room. His cock stood out proudly, long and thick, with a vein she wanted to run her tongue over. She'd never craved sex the way she did with Killian. He was perfectly shaped, not too muscular, tall and strong, oozing sex. His salacious grin when he found her toys just made her wetter. "Father?"
He brandished one of her dildos, a realistically shaped purple one. "Did you masterbate with this?"
She nodded. "Yes, Father."
"Did you like it?"
"Yes, Father. So much."
He dropped the dildo on the bed and went after another toy. "What about these?"
Her breathing hitched, and her heart raced. "Those are for something else." She loved her balls, but she'd never used them with a partner before. They were mostly for herself.
"Like what?"
She flushed. "You do…exercises with them."
Killian titled his head, curious. His time as a priest had clearly left him ignorant of some instruments of sexual pleasure. But he was willing to learn. He'd always been a good student. "What kind of exercises?"
"To, uh, keep things…tight…down there."
His eyes widened. "I see. Is that all?"
She swallowed. "No. You can…keep them in…during."
He smirked; she wasn't getting off that easily. "During what, Miss Swan?"
"Sex. It's supposed to feel amazing."
"I see. And have you partaken in such a thing?"
She shook her head. "No, Father."
God, he loved doing new things with her. He laid the silver box on the bed and hurried to find his pants. He yanked out the belt and bid Emma to get on her knees. She scrambled to obey, curious about what he had in mind. A throb of lust shot through her as she watched him twist the belt in his hands; would be spank her with it? She loved the little Catholic schoolgirl routine they'd done; he spanked her with a switch.
"Hold your hands out."
She did as he bid, breathing deeply, tingles covering her whole body. Killian cinched the belt around her wrists, trapping her. He eased her arms over her head, telling her without words to leave them raised. Then he began a tortuous tease of her body, exploring her with lips and hands and tongue. She was quivering with need as he moved up behind her, flush against her back. "Father?"
His hands settled on her hips, dragging her ass to his aching cock. "You are a very naughty girl, Miss Swan."
"I don't want to be, Father. I want to be a good girl."
He groaned, unable to resist the urge to grind against her perfect arse. "God, I want you." He peppered her neck and shoulder with kisses while he lowered her arms. Emma whined, his mouth setting her skin ablaze.
"Please," she breathed, angling her head to give him even more access. "Show me how to be a good girl, Father."
"Bring your toys, love."
She felt bereft when she moved, clumsily snatching up the toys. She pressed them into his hands, eager to see what he would do to her. Killian laid them aside to draw her in for a fervent kiss. She melted into him, his tongue sinful against hers. "Touch me," he ordered softly.
She was clumsier then usual with her hands bound, but she managed to curl them both around his thick length. She stroked him slowly, sharing desperate wet kisses. Something long and hard skimmed down her torso; Emma moaned loudly. "Please."
He had every intention of giving her what she craved. He dragged the tip of the dildo over her skin, down between her parted thighs. She was very aroused, the silicone gliding easily over her sex. Emma kept pumping him as the dildo entered her, a long moan tearing from her throat. "Oh fuck, fuck."
"That's it, Miss Swan. Show me how you pleasured yourself."
Emma looped her arms over his head, bracing herself so she could bounce on the toy. Her dildo wasn't as large as Killian, didn't fill her the same way, but it still felt good. The fact that it was Killian fucking her with it just made her even hotter. "Shit, shit," she panted, hips rocking rhythmically. "May I come, Father? God, I need to come."
"Let go, darling. Let go."
She fused her mouth to his as she shattered, pleasure coursing through her. They fell back in a heap, the dildo slipping from her. Killian needed her, badly, but he wasn't through with her yet. "Am I absolved yet, Father?"
"Not even close, my child." He kissed her briefly, his hands fumbling for the little box. The balls inside were metal, cold, heavier than he expected. "Show me how?"
"You'll need to untie me."
"You're just asking for a spanking, aren't you, Swan?"
"Hmm, yes, please." She bit her lip as he loosened the belt and placed the balls in her hands. She rolled them in her palms, the metal warming. Then she put on a show for him, rolling them over her breasts, around her nipples. Killian kissed her belly, watching her. He smiled as she rolled them over that same belly, down to her mound. One by one she rolled them through her swollen sex, coating them in her juices. She let out a soft moan as she pushed them inside, her body accepting them easily. "Mmmm."
"How does it feel?"
"Good. So good, Father."
He reached down to gently caress her clit. "Can you take more, love?"
She nodded. "Please. I wanna feel you inside me, Father."
He coaxed her onto her hands and knees, her arse in the air. Emma spread her knees as wide as she dared, moaning as he touched her, making her as wet and slick as possible. He rubbed his cock over her slit, then began to push in, ever so slowly. He didn't want to hurt her. Emma wiggled with impatience, but groaned deeply as she stretched. "Shit!"
"Am I hurting you?"
"No! God no," she panted. "So fucking good. Don't stop."
He heeded her, groaning himself as he felt the balls roll along his shaft. It was an odd feeling at first, but he loved it. As she grew accustomed to his size, he moved faster, harder. Emma keened, dropping to her elbows so she could rock back onto him. It felt even better than she imagined; she felt full. "Fuck, more," she whispered. "Need all of it."
Killian grunted, his hand coming down on her bouncing cheek. Emma cried out, a wail of pure pleasure. He kept spanking her, sinking deeper with every stroke. "Fuck, that's it, Swan. So fucking wet. You love this."
"Yes!" she cried. She raised her hips just a little, in moments he was hitting her most sensitive spot, making her tremble with impending climax. "Close! So fucking close!"
He grabbed her hips, fucking her with abandon. Their skin slapped together, an endless litany of moans tumbled from her lips. They climaxed at almost the exact same moment, Emma not bothering to hold back her scream of pleasure. So intense was her orgasm, she nearly blacked out. Killian groaned something that sounded like her name as he jerked within her, bathing her walls with his seed.
"Oh my God," she gasped, holding Killian as he trembled. Her lips touched his damp forehead absently, still reeling herself. Being with Killian was always an incredible experience, but it had never felt like this. She had never felt like this. This man wormed his way into her heart and she didn't know how. Or why.
She didn't want him to leave.
She opened her mouth to speak, but she stopped herself. She couldn't tell him like this. He deserved better than that. I love you, Killian.
He cradled her as he rolled off, unwilling to let her go. "You are incredible, love."
She flushed, not feeling worthy of his praise. She needed to tell him. Soon. "You've just been sex deprived," she joked.
He chuckled. "In more ways than one," he confirmed.
She laid her hand over his slowing heart. "Was it…" She bit her lip, wondering if she should ask. He was willing to give up his vocation for her; that was so enormous she couldn't process it. "Was it hard, I mean…difficult…"
"To give up sex?" he finished for her.
She blushed harder. "Yeah? You don't have to answer. I was just curious."
"I'm not offended, lass." He kissed her hairline. He stroked her hair thoughtfully. "I guess I never looked at it that way."
"Were you a virgin?"
"What? No! I just…didn't have that great of an experience, I suppose."
She looked askance at him. "How is that possible? You're…" She gestured inarticulately, not sure what she was trying to say. Sex with Killian had always been amazing; although…things had been awkward the first couple of times. She just chalked that up to lack of practice. He always left her satisfied.
"I'm what?" he shot back, waggling his expressive brows.
"Good," she said finally. "Like the best. The best I've ever had. Seriously."
He would have been lying if he said that didn't make his chest puff with pride. "Yeah?"
She shoved at him playfully, rolling her eyes. "Christ, I've created a monster."
"Taking the Lord's name in vain, Swan?"
"Early and often, Father," she confirmed with a grin.
"God, I love you."
Emma bit her lip, glancing down at his chest. She wanted to be brave for him. And for herself. Running was so fucking exhausting. It might not be the perfect circumstances, but they were far from perfect. Perfectly imperfect. "I love you too." She met his eyes. "I love you, Killian."
The smile on his face was the happiest smile she'd ever seen; she couldn't believe that she'd put it there. He kissed her, warm and sweet; tears slid down her cheeks. "Don't cry, sweetheart."
"Sorry."
"No, lass. Don't apologize. This is all new for me too."
"What are we going to do?"
He touched the apple of her cheek. "First, we're going to get something to eat. I believe you said something about being hungry?"
She laughed. "Yeah, food would be good." She didn't know where they went from there, but she was excited to find out.
Two Months Later
"Kitchen!"
Killian strained under the weight of the box, which would have been annoying if he didn't know full well his girlfriend enjoyed the view. "Is this the last of it, love?"
Emma swiped her forearm over her brow, surveying the chaos that was to be their new home. "I think so. Did we get everything from your car?"
"Aye, I put the last of it in the bedroom."
"We need to get you some colors. All your clothes are black."
Killian ignored her jab, coming to loop his arms around her waist. "You like black, darling."
She leaned back against him, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. "I dunno. I think red's a good color for you."
"Oh really?"
She turned, mischief shining in her eyes. "Appropriate for a former priest, don't you think?"
Killian held her close, his hands settled firmly on her delectable arse. "I will submit to your greater knowledge of the world, lass."
"I think you're catching up." She leaned in for a kiss, humming as their lips touched. It was surprisingly easy, how quickly they fell into each other. Now that they were putting the past behind them, the future seemed bright. Brighter than she could ever remember. "Should we finish unpacking?"
"It will keep." He slipped a hand into hers, tugging her toward their second hand couch. When Killian left the priesthood, he was shocked that Emma instantly offered to move in together. He fully expected to find a place for himself while they got to know each other better, go on actual dates. Emma wouldn't hear of it; they loved each other, for her that was enough. He tried to argue, but eventually gave it up. His Swan could be stubborn; the real truth was he didn't want to be away from her. Their relationship felt brand new and in a way, it was. He hadn't dated since he was a teenager, neither had Emma. They had some hiccups, some growing pains. Living together was a lot different than sneaking around. But they never gave up. Killian was the first to suggest they find a new place, something that could be theirs. Emma agreed, and the search began.
Their new apartment wasn't large or especially modern, but it was comfortable. Or, it would be, once they finished unpacking.
Emma curled into Killian's side, ignoring her aches and pains. Killian smelled of sweat and his unique woodsy scent, a scent she now associated with contentment and safety. "Tired, love?"
"I'm okay."
"I didn't think we had this many possessions."
"It's not that bad!"
"I'm jesting, Swan. In a couple of days, we'll have this place ship shape."
"Still not sure how I feel about all nautical speak."
He chuckled. Since abandoning his calling, he'd found a job at the docks, helping out at the lighthouse. He'd become friendly with many of the local fishermen, a couple former parishioners. That had been awkward at first, but once they met Emma, she won them over. He learning to live in the world, all with his Swan at his side. "Might be too late for that, darling."
"We'll see." She threaded their fingers together. "Unpacking's going to be a bitch."
"Perhaps, but at least we'll do it together."
She smiled to herself. "That is nice." She'd been alone for so long; she liked having someone to come home to. "I think we'll be happy here."
"I'm happy wherever you are. Even if we had to live out of your Bug."
She poked him. "There's nothing wrong with my car, Mister." The Bug was back, engine purring like a kitten.
"I didn't say there was. I was just pointing out that it would be a bit cramped for two."
"You didn't think it was cramped the other day."
Killian scoffed. "The bruise on my back would argue otherwise, love." They spent an evening up on the nearby ridge, making out like horny teenagers. Making out inevitably led to other things, hence the bruise on his back from her stick shift.
"What? Why didn't you say something?"
"I was a bit preoccupied, Swan."
She blushed. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I love every moment we have together."
"You're hopeless."
"Only for you, my love." Killian tipped her face up, pressing his lips to hers. She mewled into it, her fingers curling into his shirt. The kiss deepened, lips parting, tongues swirling as Emma climbed into her lover's lap.
They paused to breathe, noses brushing, hands stroking gently. "Think we should break in the tub?" she murmured, lips sliding over his scruffy jaw.
"Hell yes." She yelped as he moved to stand, quickly locking her ankles around his waist. They laughed happily as he carried her to the bathroom, more than ready to start the next chapter of their journey together.