Let me start off by apologizing. It's been almost 3 months since I updated this fic, and I honestly appreciate everyone for being so patient and for all of the kind words of encouragement (and even the sweetly impatient "post the next chapter soooooooon!" ones too!)
It's been a combination of writers block, stress, and just plain not having the necessary time to write, but I'm hoping to have pushed through that a bit. I really, truly am sorry for the delay! I hope everyone has been enjoying our beautiful ship these last episodes, and thank you so much for bearing with me and my crazy life!
XXVI.
"Did you miss me?"
It took her a few seconds to realize that his sudden, unexpected presence in her bedroom was real, the pounding of her own heart loud in her ears as she stared at him. Just when Emma had begun to try to live again, her pirate was here, acting like nothing had changed in the months they'd been apart.
She desperately wanted to run into his arms, and needed to hate him all the more for it, because he had come to her too late. It felt like years since since she'd seen him, and gods, he looked even better than she'd remembered. For a second, she allowed herself to take in the sight of him, the polished plate armor making him look like the heroes she'd dreamt of as a child. If only he had been that hero, their tale could have ended differently, she thought bitterly, her anger rising. Gods, maybe it would have been better if he hadn't come at all, because this was torture. She was trapped now, stuck between what her heart wanted and what her people needed, with no way to reconcile the two.
"Did I miss you?" She asked incredulously. "All these months, waiting, wondering, and that's what you say to me? Where have you been? What the hell do you think you're doing here?"
"I wanted to see you," he stated simply. "When I heard what had happened, I had to come." Bloody hell, she was still wearing that tantalizing dress, the luminous ivory silk dipping low between her breasts and gliding over her curves like liquid. An intricate, diamond-encrusted necklace cascaded over her glowing skin, resting in the deep neckline and only further highlighting her assets. The golden hair he'd seen every night in his dreams was topped by a similarly jeweled crown. His memories paled in comparison to the vision before him, beautiful as a goddess come to earth. The arousal that had been smoldering in his belly all evening had raged hotter during his altercation with the guards, but now burst into an inferno as he approached his princess, the need to take and possess overcoming him.
"Oh, Gods, why couldn't you just stay away?" She hissed, angry tears leaping to her eyes. "I can't do this...you need to leave, now. If the men outside hear you, we're both as good as dead."
"Nobody can hear a thing, darling. That door is six inches thick, and even if sound could carry through the wood, I highly doubt the dead guards beyond it will be coming to your aid. Besides," he crowded closer, "I'm not going anywhere until you explain what the hell you're doing married to the bastard who rules this kingdom. How could you do this to me?"
"How could I do this to you? Fuck you! You left me behind!"
"You must be joking." He chuckled mirthlessly, walking around the room to casually inspect the various ornate decorations in an effort to remain calm. "Aside from the fact that, technically, you left me, there's the little detail of you being married to the man that murdered my brother. Tell me, love, was that just to spite me?"
"What?" She asked, stunned nearly breathless. "No, that can't be..."
He sighed heavily. "So, you didn't know. I suppose that is some small consolation. John knows though, knows who I am, and who you are to me. This is no mere coincidence. He means to make me pay, and what better way than …" He shook away his thoughts. "No matter. He hasn't had you yet, has he, love? Put his greasy, bloodstained hands on that beautiful body of yours? Have you let him fuck you, like I fucked you?" His eyes once again roamed her body, drinking in the sight of her open neckline, the way the gown caressed and flattered her curves.
Emma recoiled, backing away from him, her own voice rising. "What the hell? That's no business of yours, pirate. You have absolutely no claim to me. I'm married now. Whatever your plan or the foolish fantasies you may have had, none of that matters. You were gone, doing gods only know what! Even if I did want to leave with you, we both know I can't. Maybe if you'd had the courage to come to me a month ago, but now? I'm John's wife!"
Advancing, he considered her, a wicked smirk curving his lips. "Hmmmm, I think not. You are mine, and I'll not have another man know you. All the women I had- and there were many, darling- not a one felt as good as your sweet little cunt." She turned away in distress, not wanting to hear about his exploits. "Oh, does that bother the little princess, to know that I've fucked my way through the kingdoms while you were off gallivanting with my enemy? I can still read you, love, can see from your expression that you haven't taken John to your bed and I'm sure your body is just dying for me to fill you up again, after months of being alone. What do you say, darling? How about a quick fuck for old time's sake?"
She hadn't wanted to hurt him, but his disgusting attitude broke her resolve. "Hook, I haven't been with John, but you must not know me as well as you believe if you think you've been my only lover." She heard him inhale a shocked breath, and raised a challenging eyebrow in response. "It's not like you waited around for me, so don't even think of judging me."
A darkness settled in his eyes. "I did wait, actually, for two weeks, hoping you'd find your way back to me, since going to the castle and inviting you to dinner didn't seem a viable option. How long did you wait princess? A week? A day?" He stalked towards her, backing her slowly to the bed. "How many men did you let fuck that pretty cunny of yours?"
His anger only served to increase her own. What right did he have to be angry? He undoubtedly fucked his way through a dozen ports, only coming to her when his feud with John prompted him to eventually think on her again, making her more of a possession to argue over than anything else. He probably cared no more for her than the strumpets he bedded. "What does it even matter to you? Go find yourself a whore, Hook, since that's apparently the type of woman you prefer, and get out of my room."
"You essentially sold yourself, darling. So, in a way, maybe I do prefer whores."
"That's not fair, Hook, and you know it!" She argued. "I never thought I'd see you again."
"Well, I'm bloody well here now." He growled, arms held wide.
She grabbed the steel gorget of his armor, abruptly hauling him to her and kissing him voraciously. She nipped at his lips and yanked on his hair, and he responded by kissing her back with just as much fire, their passion raging as wildly as if someone had lit a match in a room of gunpowder.
Shoving her in the direction of the bed, he began to unbuckle his armor as he moved, shedding each piece of the heavy steel with an ominous metallic thud against the plushly carpeted floor. Finally pulling his shirt over his head, he smirked as he caught his princess lustfully biting her lip as her dark eyes roamed over his bare torso. She was clearly angry, as angry as he was himself, but he knew now that the raw attraction they shared hadn't diminished for either of them.
Despite her anger, she couldn't deny the effect he had on her. As she realized what was about to happen, Emma distinctly recalled all the lonely nights she'd imagined what their reunion might be like. Sometimes, he stole her away, and they came together in a flurry of passion against a wall, unable to wait until they were safe aboard the Jolly Roger. Other times, they made love bathed in the warm glow of the cabin's lanterns, declarations of love whispered against each other's lips.
She'd never imagined it like this, ravished in her royal bridal bed by Captain Hook, as the man approaching her was certainly not the affectionate Killian that she'd left those few months ago. Only now did she truly understand how much she'd hurt him, and how much he'd lost himself when he lost her. With sudden clarity, she realized that her love for him had never been unrequited and although she was afraid, a part of her welcomed this, wanted to be made his again, to be fucked until all she knew was the slide and stretch of his cock inside her. "Please," she whispered, wanting him to know she desired him, praying he would find a way to forgive her for what she had to do.
He could see her soften a bit, but wasn't yet ready to feel those emotions, instead focusing on his rage. Pulling her to him, he abruptly shoved his hook into the top of her bodice and ripped her gown down the center to her waist, using his hand to yank it down her body. At his rough treatment, she tried halfheartedly to cover herself in embarrassment, but her arms were tangled in the sleeves, and all she could do was struggle as he stared. "Fuck, I missed these," he growled, hand coming to caress her creamy breasts in just the right way, thumb brushing her nipple as he kneaded the soft flesh. She bit back a moan, his expert touch making it impossible for her to suppress her desire for him.
He pulled her gown the rest of the way off, then made quick work of the remaining underbust corset and silk chemise, leaving her beautifully bare. Pulling her against his firm body with his hooked arm, he reached between her legs, finding the golden curls there already slick with arousal, a fact which sent a new burst of lust sizzling towards his already hard cock. "Oh, and I most definitely missed this." She wriggled in his grasp, grinding against his long fingers. "You're so wet, darling. You can try to deny it all you want, but your body knows you're mine."
She ripped an arm free and grabbed him by the necklace around his neck. "Nobody owns me. And I hate you."
Something crept into his expression at that, and he scoffed humorlessly. "You've never hated me, even when you had every reason to, so something tells me you'll forgive me for this too."
He spun her around and pushed her onto the bed, climbing up behind her as she scrambled to turn onto her back. "Oh no, you don't," he admonished, hooking her around the ankle as he worked open his laces and opened his trousers, his cock springing free. "I want you just like this." He pushed down on her shoulders, forcing her to the bed with his hook as his fingers passed through her wetness and over her clit, drawing impatient circles onto the sensitive nub, his hard length hot against her thigh.
She shivered as he lined himself up, but her words died in her throat as she felt him nudge at her entrance. Gods help her, she wanted this: wanted it hard and raw, wanted to fuck away the heartache of the last months and forget, if only for a little while. She pushed her hips back towards him ever so slightly, working the tip inside her, and apparently that was all the encouragement he needed. His hand immediately grasped her hip and he surged forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth motion as she keened with a mixture of pleasure and pain. She had clearly forgotten just how big he was, desperately needing a moment to adjust to the intrusion and getting no such reprieve as he slammed into her yet again. "Fuck, you're still so tight, Emma," he groaned as he rotated his hips, reveling in the feel of her around him. "Still so fucking good."
She could feel his balls slap against her clit with each thrust as he began to fuck her hard, the sensation teasing her torturously. Her heavy necklace swung wildly, hitting her chest in time with his movements. Desperate for more, she arched her back, trying to angle him just right, but he pushed her down again, grunting that she should hold still. He was being rough, taking her with a desperation borne from months of longing and pain and desire finally coming to a boiling point, and she wanted to scream and fight, demanding he treat her like the royalty she was, but she couldn't deny that finally fucking him again, even like this, felt better than anything else had these last months. He slid so deep with each thrust, filling her and stretching her. Grunting when she clenched around him, he pushed down on her shoulders with his hook, allowing his cock to go even deeper.
"Bloody fucking hell. You feel so perfect." He choked back what could have been a sob, pulling on her golden tresses as he pounded into her, his voice instead taking on a harsh, angry tone. "I just...How could you? How could you let anyone else inside this perfect little cunt?"
She didn't answer, her heart racing as her body responded to the overwhelming sensations, and he changed the angle again, moving to he hit just the right spot over and over. His earlier efforts to control himself and keep from coming too quickly had paid off, but at this rate, he wouldn't last much longer. "Did anyone fill you like I do? Did anyone fuck you like I do?"
"No!" she cried, rutting back against him. "Don't stop. Please! It's so good!"
His thrusts were sloppy and harsh as he finally chased his release, knowing she was right on the edge as well. "Gods, how I tried to chase your memory away, but you were always there, when I closed my eyes, haunting my bloody dreams."
"Oh, Killian," she whimpered, tears brimming in her eyes. "I've only ever wanted you."
Hearing those words snapped his last bit of control. "I'm so close. Fuck, I want to come inside you, Emma. I want to fill you with my seed, dark sky be damned." He thrust hard and deep, making her cry out when he bottomed out again. Her cunt felt so good wrapped around him and there was no denying how much he missed her. She looked back, her body tightening around him as she started to come.
"Gods help me, but I love you," she sobbed, the tone making it clear she was close. "Come with me."
In that moment, all he knew was that despite him being a lowly pirate, this magnificent woman loved him back. He leaned over her, all resolve to fuck her unceremoniously leaving him as he neared his climax, wanting just to hold her when be came. He turned her head to kiss her, his heart swelling when she attacked his lips with the same desperation as she wrapped her arm around his neck. With a low moan, he filled her with his release, each deep thrust causing a shudder to ripple through her lithe body under him.
She felt the hot rush of him finishing inside her, the sensation only making her orgasm more intense. Breaking the kiss to gulp in much-needed air, she collapsed, boneless, on the bed. The harsh sound of their heavy breathing slowly quieted in the empty room, the mattress dipping as he flopped beside her and began to trail his fingers over the sweat-slick skin of her back. Lying in the hazy afterglow, they nervously avoided looking at each other until he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, sighing deeply.
"I've spent much of my life running from this place. Only you could bring me back."
"Why did you return?" she asked, turning on her side to face him.
"You must know." A wry smile lifted the corner of his kiss-reddened lips. "I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love — of my Milah. To believe that I could find someone else. That is, until I met you." She threaded her fingers through his, biting her lip nervously as he continued. "I had to know, had to see you with my own eyes and understand why I'd lost the woman who showed me how to love again to my greatest enemy. And if you weren't here by choice, well, then I had to save my princess." He gently eased the already-askew crown from her head, dangling it playfully from his hook.
"I think I'm a queen now." she corrected him sadly, poking at the jeweled circlet with a manicured forefinger. He tossed the crown to the side, rolling to face her fully as he gently stroked her cheek with a calloused thumb.
"You'll always be my Swan Princess, Emma. Always."
Leaning down, he gently pressed his lips to hers in a gesture that, strangely, felt far more intimate to Emma than their previous activities. This kiss was something unlike any other they had shared. It was soft and slow, their tongues stroking and tasting as they wrapped their arms around each other, heads angling to allow the kiss to evolve into more. He settled between her slender thighs, encouraging her legs to wrap around his hips and pull him closer.
She wanted him again, and could tell he shared the same desire when she felt his rigid length press against her. Rolling him onto his back, his lips barely missed a beat when she rocked against him, moving to caress her jaw and below her ear before returning eagerly to her mouth. His hand kneaded the base of her skull, but his hooked arm remained locked firmly around her waist, and she wondered briefly if he, too, feared this was but a dream and would lose her the moment he woke again.
She rose slightly, easily slipping him back inside her and he freed her from his embrace to lay back, mesmerized as she moved above him like a golden goddess of his very own. The pleasure on her face as she rode him was so intensely erotic that he was immeasurably thankful he had already satisfied himself once. Knowing that she loved him in return and that this passion was borne not just of lust but of love, made the base act of fucking, which he'd gleefully done thousands of times without a second thought, suddenly seem sacred.
She leaned back a bit, intentionally giving him quite the show and working him deeper with each roll of her hips until she had every hard inch sheathed inside her. Gods, it felt so good this way, even better than in her dreams and memories. The new tattoo on his chest, a delicate swan inked right over his heart, drew her attention; she didn't know how she'd missed it before, but tears welled in her eyes when the emptiness that had been festering inside of her these last, lonely weeks melted away as they came together and his cock filled her perfectly. His calloused thumb rubbed at her clit as he began to thrust up into her, the combined pleasure inducing her climax. She collapsed against his chest, nuzzling into his neck as she came down and letting him roll them again.
"Gods, I love you," he whispered in her ear as he took her with long deep thrusts. "I am yours, Emma, just as you are mine. No king, or oath, or time, or distance can change that."
"Show me," she purred, kissing him deeply before pulling back to look into his intense gaze. "Show me how you love me, Killian."
His hips pressed against her as his lips attacked hers, greedily nipping and kissing as he loved her with every ounce of his body and soul. They moved together, rising and falling until he spent himself deep inside her again, their intimate touches continuing as they came back to earth.
The hours passed as they lay sprawled on the tangled sheets, her body tucked into his side as he held her close. She could hear his heart beating, strong and steady and real under her ear as her ornately ringed fingers played with the dark hair on his chest.
"Come away with me," he whispered in the dark, the sliver of moon in the sky providing little light to the stately bedchamber now that the candles had all burned out.
Her sigh was as broken as her heart as she responded. "You know I can't. John will declare war on Sylvania. I'd be sentencing my people to death. And isn't this your homeland? Have you seen how the people live? I can't just turn my back on that."
He pulled her closer, protectively. "I can. Fuck the kingdoms. Fuck the world, Emma." She just sighed again, and he knew she couldn't agree with him and simply run off, no matter how much she obviously longed to. He decided to give voice to the obvious solution, knowing that she'd argue all the same. "If I killed him, you could be free."
"No." She shook her head emphatically. "Killian, if they catch you, they'll hang you at the very least, and god knows what else John might do to you. I'd rather endure a thousand years of an unhappy marriage than see that happen."
"And I'd rather die than lose you again, Emma, though I'd prefer if it didn't come to that. Besides, John has been a dead man since the day he sent Liam and I on our ill-fated journey. He just doesn't know it."
She thought on that, realizing that marrying her was just the last in a long list of John's ruthless and devious actions. Even before her betrothal, Killian had every reason to want the man dead. Still, so much was at stake. "If you kill him in cold blood, you might as well run your sword through me, my mother, father, brother and half of the kingdom as well. I'm not saying he deserves to live," she said, sensing her pirate's irritation and wanting him to know where her loyalties lay.
Guilt briefly tugged at her heart, but she knew that given how hellbent he was on John's death, dissuading him from exacting his revenge would be nearly impossible. While she couldn't deny that things would be far easier if John's ship were simply lost at sea, she wasn't sure if the sea goddess would be so cooperative. Then again, perhaps they didn't need a diety's help at all, she realized. "Killian, where is the Jolly Roger?"
"In a nearby port, waiting to retrieve us in two days' time. What of her?"
"Do you think she can take down a royal flagship?"
"We took the Ivory Swan, and as you've seen with your own eyes, love, I'm a hell of a captain."
She hummed quietly in thought for a moment before continuing. "I was just thinking- if John were to die at sea, while I'm here within the castle walls, there would be no way to blame me for his disappearance. The marriage hasn't been consummated, so I'd have no claim to the throne, and with the infighting that would undoubtedly ensue within the nobility, they would want to send me home as quickly as possible."
Staring at the ceiling, he considered the options. He had always imagined something a bit more gruesome for the king, but dead was dead. Dispatching the ship would allow him both his revenge and his love, and really, what more could he want? He'd have to wait until the Jolly Roger returned for him, but she was the fastest ship he knew, more than capable of running down whatever hulking monstrosity on which the king sailed. "Bloody hell, lass. That could work."
"I could meet you at the docks in Sylvaina a month after I arrive home. My parents won't be thrilled, but I doubt they'll be surprised, and nobody would want to marry me anyway, after this."
He smirked, knowing he was about to hint at something that would have seemed impossible just a year ago. "Oh, I don't know how true that is. I'm sure I can think of someone who would."
He heard the hitch in her breathing, saw the shy smile that curved her lips, and knew he'd made the right choice. She was all he'd ever need.
They dozed together until the first light of dawn began to color the sky, knowing their plan would only work if he escaped her room undiscovered. He lowered the heavy armor to the ground using a rope that had once lashed her luggage together before climbing out the window himself.
"Be careful," she emplored him as she planted frantic kisses on his lips. "And, please, Killian, come back to me."
"Always, love," he vowed, staring at her intently in an effort to memorize every detail of her beautiful face. Using the thick vines that scaled the tower that housed her suite, he swiftly climbed down under the last cover of darkness and, slinging the heavy steel over his shoulder, set off for the cove where he would soon meet his crew, exact his revenge, and free Emma.
Well, I hope their reunion was worth the wait! The story isn't over just yet, but at least you got some sexytimes, declarations of love, and a plan! I won't take another 3 months for the next chapter, I promise! Thanks for reading!
