A/N: So the drama will heat up in the next chapter, including some stuff with Henry, Anna, and Kristof. That's not to say that this chapter is boring, but it ties Killian into the drama a bit more than just watching Emma suffer and there is a bit of smut in there too. Hope you enjoy!

Killian pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and groaned with the headache that pounded and grew behind the blue orbs. He had not drank that much the night before, preferring to remain in control of his faculties when it came to Emma, but still he felt like he had the hangover from hell. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, he told himself as he drank another loud slurp from the cup of coffee that was now lukewarm on his desk.

Emma had been quite amorous that night, the two of them enjoying themselves at the bar and even more in jeep and later in her apartment. With his eyes closed he could still feel her long legs hitched up onto his hips and her ankles crossed behind him as they didn't even make it past her living room before he was buried inside her. He had sworn he'd buy her whatever drink she could desire if only she would scream his name that way as she quivered around him in her completion. He had thought he might combust on the spot, but she had coaxed his own release from him and led him to her bed soon after his legs became strong enough to support him again.

He had to stop thinking about such things at work, as he was pretty sure Eric was able to read his mind. Earlier during a conference call, the sales manager had looked knowingly at him as he had accidentally called the woman named Emily by Emma's name instead.

It was assumed that the mistake with the woman's name was the reason that Eric had marched into Killian's office just before noon and closed the door with a loud thud that left those in cubicles wondering. Dressed in one of the sweaters that he usually wore for sailing trips with potential clients, Eric ran a hand through his thick hair and sighed as he sat across from arguably his best salesman.

"The deal with the city about the rescue boats," he said, not bothering to acknowledge that Killian was popping aspirin like candy and chasing it down with first coffee and then a bottle of water. "Please tell me that the city approved that."

"Contract is signed and the boats are being custom outfitted now," Killian said, glad for once to be ahead of his boss's whims. "I was going to take a look at the progress tomorrow, but I suppose I could…"

"I didn't ask about the contract," Eric said, enunciating carefully. "I simply asked if the city approved it. You know…city council…voting…large purchases requiring multiple bids." Killian's office was warm with the sun coming in and a small space heater that he had commandeered from the last occupant of the office. Eric tugged a bit at the thickly knit collar.

Killian paled a bit as he dug through is bottom drawer for the file folder. "David and Regina signed off on them," he said. "I placed the order as soon as they…"

"The council didn't vote, did they?"

"Well, I wasn't aware that was necessary," Killian said, pulling at the neck of his own shirt. He had lost the jacket earlier, as well as the tie, but he still wore the dark vest and matching pants. "I mean Regina is the mayor. Can't she approve it?"

"With the approval of the council. She can't act alone and neither can David." Eric sighed roughly, his eyes narrow and accusatory as he placed the creased newspaper on the desk. "I guess you haven't read today's edition of the Daily Mirror. Sidney Glass has been looking into the spending of the department what with the missing money and all. And guess what he found?" Eric rolled his eyes as Killian leaned forward and scanned the text. Impatient, he pointed to the passage he wanted him to see. "Interesting coincidence. Money goes missing. A contract for almost that same dollar amount is drawn up by you only days after you started sleeping with one of the deputies. The deputy who is under investigation because she has her own record."

"Bloody hell, Eric. You can't honestly think that I would steal or accept stolen money." Killian lifted the news article closer to his eyes and hurriedly ran over it in his mind. He was desperate to find a hole in the story, but for once Sidney seemed quite thorough. Despite the accusation being false, all the evidence was there.

"Perception is a bigger deal than reality sometimes, Killian," the man said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I understand that you care for this woman. You were broken up over the accusations against her. But you need to watch yourself. People aren't going to see this as just an innocent coincidence. There's going to be talk. You look like you profited from bedding her and she willingly participated in scamming the city out of money."

"But purchasing the equipment was David's idea," Killian explained, his flustered voice sounding higher pitched than his normal one. "Emma was pushing for a different purchase all together. She was quite cross with the sheriff for not taking her suggestion."

Eric sighed again. "Or so she'd want people to believe. Killian, look. I know you care for her, but really think about this. How well do you know her? It's quite concerning that she is working in that position after having been in jail. She's obviously not above having strings pulled for her. Just be careful."

Killian's hands swatted down onto the desk. "What do you suggest I do? I do know Emma. I am not going to abandon her because some sodding idiot with a wild imagination and a computer decided that she is somehow embezzling money and then using her influence to get me a commission. So unless you have…"

"I do have another plan," Eric interrupted again. He reached into his pocket, brandishing a business card. "You're going to cooperate in the investigation. Your interview is this afternoon. And then you're going to come back here and we're going to work out a plan as what management wants to do about this. We can't ignore the fact of how much this is going to cost."

"You must think I'm daft," Killian protested, not taking the card that was being waved before him. "I'm not going to go be interviewed and assessed by the very man who…"

"Appointment's at 2," Eric said, ignoring the blustering protests. "I'd suggest you go take a shower at lunch. You look like hell."

***AAA***

Emma was not a business suit kind of woman. She could wear a dress. She could wear her jeans. But the tailored blazers and straight-line skirts or pleated pants did not seem to hang right on her, in her own opinion. So when Elsa's public relations manager, Ashley, showed up with a dozen variations of the suits, Emma knew that she was about to be turned into corporate Barbie.

"I look like a blonde version of Regina," Emma said when David complimented her on the steely gray pants suit with the creamy white shell. Her makeup was subtle and her long hair was twisted into a low bun at the nape of her neck. "This woman can't be serious."

"I was about to ask you to sell me a used car," David said, pouring the last of the coffee into his favorite mug and frowning at the now empty pot. "Seriously though, you look great. I'm sure this press conference is going to go well."

"I'm just thankful that you're doing more of the talking than I am," Emma said, her hand fluttering around the oversized beads that the woman had paired with the outfit. "Aren't we supposed to be in charge of these things? How did we lose control?"

"That," David said with a smirk, "is something I ask myself every day. But thankfully she got it pushed back a little to appease those reporters."

The blonde made a face, sticking out her tongue and pretending to gag herself with her finger. "I swear if Sidney asks me one question, I'm going to punch him."

"If you punched everyone you threaten, you'd be a guest of the city and not an employee," David counselled. "And I guess that means you've seen today's article."

Emma scoffed, folding her arms across her chest and then thinking better of it. She smoothed out the wrinkles in the fabric. "You mean the one where he accuses me of not only stealing money but somehow sleeping with Killian so he could make a sale to you and allow me to get my hands on more money? That article?"

"That would be the one," David said with a scowl. "Pretty damning stuff."

"I'll say," Emma sarcastically replied. "I've been accused of sleeping with two different men so that I could profit financially. I can't say either portrayal is flattering though at least Sidney finally figured out who I do share a bed with." She didn't add that it is also helpful that Killian actually called her immediately after reading it. She'd been in the midst of a fitting for her new outfit and missed the call, but it was there.

"Thank God for small favors," David said. "I guess you know about Neal then too? And Killian?"

"Neal got run over by a bus or a truck and Killian is providing the boat for a burial at sea?" She laughed heartily at her own joke until she realized that David wasn't laughing. "What?"

"He's requested an interview with Killian about the contracts. I guess I'll be interviewed again too."

Emma wondered if her bagel that morning was such a good idea as her stomach lurched uncomfortably. She clutched at her abdomen and mentally counted the number of steps it would take her to get to the restroom. "Can't Neal just leave?" she asked nobody in particular. "Killian didn't approve those contracts. That was you and Regina. I saw them."

"And now Sidney has two members of the city council claiming that they weren't aware of the deal. It's not good, Emma."

***AAA***

Killian tried to imagine Emma with Neal, but he wasn't sure he wanted to that for the sake of his own sanity. He'd heard her limited comments about him and Ruby's more disparaging ones, even having laughed at a few of the funnier ones. However, those comments all made him seem a different species and less human. So to see a man sitting before him in a suit with hair that is a bit too long is surprising in a way.

"You must be Killian," Neal said, looking down at his notepad like Emma is known to do. "Neal. Nice to meet you."

Neal managed to shuffle and the reorganize some papers on the borrowed desk before he looked out to where Killian was sitting. There was something about the situation that reminded Killian of being in trouble at school, waiting for the teacher to admit which infraction she knew about and hoping you wouldn't have to guess and admit to some unknown crime.

"You sell boats or something, right?"

Despite the amused smile, Killian can tell it is not outside the man's knowledge as to Killian's role with the company. "Aye, boats, ships, equipment for any of the maritime trades or even some past times," he responded as though reading the back of a brochure about the company. "But I'm suspecting that is why I'm here and that you already know that."

The smile on Neal's lips grows. "How much of a commission do you get on selling these items?" Again, it is a question that Killian is sure that Neal had researched. The standard is 5%, but Killian's role with the company provides him with 7% over his salary. When Killian explains that to him, Neal punched the numbers into the old adding machine on David's desk. When he finished, he held up the white tape as though he couldn't be bothered to read the green numbers on the screen. "Quite a little bonus for your sale to the city." He tore off the white paper and held it out to Killian who didn't take it.

"I'm aware of the amount, which is not that unusual in these circumstances," Killian said. "The negotiations and deal took most of my time that would have been dedicated to other sales. I was compensated for that."

"This time," Neal said, not missing a beat, "it would include things like wining and dining clients. Perhaps taking them on sailing trips? Maybe a gift or two."

"Aye, it can," Killian said. "However, government rules are a bit tougher on wooing a potential customer."

Neal wrote something onto the pad of paper. "And I understand that most of that time you spent wooing the city was spent with one of the city's deputies." He made air quotes around the word wooing and didn't both to look back at his notes when he smiled and said her name. "Emma Swan?"

Killian wasn't a big fan of how the man said her name. There was something too familiar about it, too degrading. He wished he could unhear it. "Emma and I met just before the sale went through," Killian said. "Our relationship is of a personal nature, but it is in no way related to the rescue boats and equipment that I sold to the department. She…"

"She arranged a dinner meeting between you and the sheriff," Neal supplied, leaning backwards into the chair. It rocked a bit under the pressure. "One that she attended. So she was there for the negotiations."

"It wasn't like that," Killian said. "We had dinner with her friends. The deal was mentioned and then dropped when she became upset that the money wasn't being used for another cause."

"Em always was a stubborn girl."

"Determined is more accurate," Killian supplied, feeling sour toward the man. He had no love loss for anyone who had caused Emma any bit of pain. But most of all, he hated the smugness of the man whose now out of date knowledge of Emma was superficial at best. Maybe it was simply pride and jealousy, but Killian despised the idea that this man had ever had his hands on Emma, left her with memories and experiences that had hurt her to the point that she shut down. Now he sat there with his expectation being much like a man who left his date to go to the restroom and returned. Could he honestly think that Emma had not changed in all that time?

***AAA***

"How the hell do you do those things?" Emma asked, ripping off the jacket and throwing it onto a table. "All those eyes and questions. Smug bastards wanting to know things not at all directed to the purpose of that press conference." She shuddered.

David smiled consolingly, pushing a chair over for Elsa who appeared shell-shocked after being peppered with questions about her sister's relationships, the possibility that it was a publicity stunt, and the idea that it had been Elsa who had driven her away. "The media isn't always the enemy," he said to both ladies. "They can help us get the word out about Anna and Kris to places we can't reach with fliers and word of mouth."

"If it helps me find my sister then it is worth it," Elsa declared. "I'd answer hundreds of questions if she was back here with me." She was wearing a beautifully embroidered blazer, running her fingers over the intricate design.

"I'm sorry," Emma said. "I just wish they hadn't brought up the stuff going on here at the station. That was unfair to you."

They were still debating the press conference, talking about questions and reassuring each other of answers when Neal emerged from the glass office with Killian. The two men stopped and looked to Emma who snapped her head in their direction.

"Didn't the press conference go well, Em?" Neal asked, his smile and stature relaxed in comparison to Killian who looked worried. "I bet you were great." He took a step toward her, ignoring David who stepped between them.

Emma ignored his sort of compliment and focused her attention on Killian. He was looking down rather than meeting her gaze, but she approached him anyway, her hand petting at his sleeve. "Are you two done with whatever you wanted?" she asked Neal, never looking at him. "Because I could use some air. How about you, Killian?"

Killian offered a half smile as she pulled him from the room with a word to David that she'd be back shortly and a comment to Elsa that she would be in touch if anything came up. It wasn't until they were both outside that she spoke to Killian, her hand still gripping his jacket and her own arms bare and cold in the wind.

"So that went…" she tried to catch his gaze, but he looked as timid and weak as Elsa at that moment. "Are you okay? Did Neal say or do something? If he…"

"I can see why your friends hold him in such high regard, Swan," he said sardonically. "I'm afraid he has some notion that our relationship is about me trying to…" He scratched behind his ear. "I'm not trying to use you, Swan. Commission or not, I would never want to hurt you over a sale."

"I know that," Emma said. "It's just the way Neal thinks." She pulled herself closer to him, hiding her arms under his coat. When he offered to let her wear it, she shook her head. "I kind of like this method better."

"As do I," he said. "I'm sorry that my…"

She wrinkled her brow in contemplation. "You're not going to tell me that you are sorry you dragged me into this when it's my fault, are you? Because I don't think you did anything wrong. I'm the one with the past. I'm the one…"

"You're not the only one, Emma," he said, "but here and now is not the appropriate place for that discussion."

"That worries me," she told him. "Are you sure you're okay? You know you can tell me things. I've had a few breakdowns in front of you, so you're due one." She grinned, but his expression did not match hers. "I want to be there for you too."

He glanced toward the sidewalk on the other side of the street. There was a woman with a toddler heading toward one of the quaint stores that lined that area. The toddler was so bundled that he or she appeared to be ball shaped rather than an actual child, his or her arms not even able to lie flat. He smirked at the sight of the mom chasing down the child who could not even see past a thick scarf and the dad who was chasing after them both with a diaper bag over one shoulder and two canvas shopping bags over the other arm. It was such a domestic scene, happy couple, family, and life going on. He wondered briefly if he would ever have such a thing.

"You are here for me," he said, rubbing his hands over the exposed parts of her arms. "But I think you might freeze if we stay out here any longer."

"You're stalling," she accused as she walked back to the station begrudgingly. "I'm going to learn your secrets, Killian Jones, even if I have to torture it out of you."

He hugged her into his side as they made their way back against the wind. "I don't doubt that, Emma. I don't doubt that at all."

***AAA***

"Who told you that the council had approved it?" Emma asked Killian as they sat in his living room. Her pants suit was long gone and replaced by a pair of jeans and a thick cable sweater. Her feet, covered in thick socks that had stars on them, were folded with her legs under her as she sat on his sofa. His arm was resting on the back of it, half holding her as she sipped on a glass of wine that he had insisted on sharing with her.

"I supposed I assumed that David and the mayor would have handled such a detail," he said. "I spoke to David about it earlier. He had assumed I was working with Regina on that…It doesn't matter. I dropped the ball. The purchase was not approved. I went ahead with the order and now…"

"Now the company is on the hook for that money?" Emma surmised from his tense expression, especially the way his jaw was set so tightly and his eyes glinted dark. "That's what has you so worried?"

"I never should have placed the request until all the i's were dotted and the t's crossed, darling. It was a costly mistake that could very well cost me my job." He frowned. "Eric's talking to the brass now, but it is not looking good."

"Killian," Emma said, her hand resting near the spot where his neck and shoulder met. "It wasn't up to you. Regina and David should have taken care of the approvals. It's part of their jobs to do such things."

"I can't blame them," he said with a resigned sigh. "It is circular logic at best and I didn't do my part. I jumped the gun."

Emma pulled in a long sip of the wine and breathed in the heady scent. "But you're going to fight it, right? I mean you can't just let the company put all the blame on you."

He reached for her wine glass, their fingers grazing as he pulled it out of her hand and placed it on the table beside him. His other hand reached out to place a finger over her lips as she went to protest the stealing of her wine. She kissed the pad of his finger and let her eyes follow the drink. "Can't have you spilling," he said, his voice low as he pulled her toward him. The move wasn't fierce or passionate, but instead it was comforting and tender. Her head against his shoulder and his tilted toward hers, he sighed. "I appreciate the concern, Emma, but I can't think about this until I have to do so. There are just too many moving parts. Either my work will stand behind me or it won't. Either Neal will believe me or he won't. I don't even know what to wish for with the outcome."

"I would say we should wish for things to go back to normal, but I'm not sure I know what that is," she admitted. Her hand stroked down his chest, resting for a bit over his heart where he covered her hand with his own. She stretched against him, almost purring as her body relaxed against his. Her eyes shut and her fingers tapped along with the staccato beat of his heart. "You know, I might could be convinced to hide out with you and pretend like the rest of the world doesn't exist. No Neal, no job worries. Just me and you and maybe Netflix or some DVDs?"

"I think maybe I'll just stay in this weekend," he commented idly. "You have to work, do you not?"

"Robin offered to work Saturday if I took a shift for him next week so he can go to Roland's school thing," she explained. Turning her head, she looked at his profile. "I just thought we could hide out together, but if you don't want that…" She let her eyes drop, that insecurity over not being enough or wanted coming to light again.

"I'm not sure how good of company I'll be, love," he muttered. "I am on the verge of a pity party over the possibility of losing my job."

She knew she probably didn't have the right words to say or the right sentiment to express, but she knew that he would try if the shoe was on the other foot. "Parties can be more fun with two people," she declared. "So I am inviting myself."

"You're a pushy little minx," he laughed. "I suppose you have a point, but you will have to be awfully forgiving. I won't be in the best of moods."

"I'm tough. I can handle that."

***AAA***

Emma was right. She could handle Killian's mood that weekend, which went from bad to worse when another article speculated on his version of the truth and detailed his own previous troubles at a former job. His reputation in shambles, he had left and sought out the job he currently held.

"I should have told you about that," he said, slamming the paper down that Saturday morning with a loud slap. "Bloody well put it behind me only to have dug up again." His fists clenched in anger and his spine was rigid. Emma had never quite seen him so angry and distressed.

"I wish you would have, but I guess we both kept things a secret." She said the words slowly, disbelieving herself that she was saying them. "It's the past, right? Nothing we can change now." She wished she could believe that, wished that she could truly think that of her situation.

"Aye," he said, glancing back at the paper in disgust. "I don't understand a bit of this. Why are they digging up this information? What good does it do anyone?"

Emma didn't know, having resigned herself to the idea that her own past would eventually catch up to her. But Killian had done nothing wrong to anyone. It made no sense.

The morning had started well and she had been standing in his kitchen, watching him flip pancakes and laughing as he attempted to imitate Julia Child. When his phone had buzzed with warning that someone was calling, she had told him that hiding out meant no contact. But he had reached around her to grab the black phone, tickling her ribs as the two of them laughed over his maneuver. It was like a drape had been pulled over their casual Saturday breakfast, the grip he had around her waist loosened and the carefree smile on his lips turned down and tight.

She tenderly brushed her hand over the side of his face when he stopped shaking. "Hey," she said warmly. "Our plans this weekend were to shut the world out. We can't let this crap get to us if we do that."

He had nodded and tried to recapture the levity of before. It was not easy, but they managed it as the morning wore on in a flurry of sticky and syrupy kisses, cooking shows on the Food Network, and a trip back to the bedroom that Emma declared a successful diversion to getting dressed. However, she noticed the faraway look in his eyes and the way he seemed to be holding back.

"What do you suggest we watch?" he asked, stooping in front of his collection of DVD's after they had found nothing to agree on within the first 20 minutes of searching Netflix. He had never really thought about the allure of a woman in his shirt, but he was reconsidering that position with the sight of Emma on his sofa in one of his button down shirts, her long legs curled under her so that the shirt rode up her thigh in the most tantalizing of ways.

"We don't have to watch anything," she suggested.

His cloudy eyes seemed to grow darker and then lighten. "Perhaps we should," he said.

She recognized the signs of someone retreating into himself. She had performed the same act a hundred times at least. It always started with saying she was fine or she wouldn't think about something now. It was followed by comments about how it didn't matter anyway and there was no point in discussing it further.

They settled on a marathon of the Back to the Future trilogy, only breaking to make popcorn. That in itself turned into one of their first real arguments. Killian was a traditionalist who preferred butter and salt in comparison to Emma's parmesan and garlic flavored preference.

"Popcorn is practically the world's most perfect food," he told her when she called his selection boring. "There is no need to doctor it up unnecessarily."

"There is nothing wrong with adding a little spice to your life," she protested back, swinging her long bare legs over his jean clad lap in what he could only assume was a diversionary tactic. "And I love the taste." She punctuated that statement with her tongue flicking out to savor the taste on her bottom lip.

Determined to hold his ground, he shook his head and faced the television again. "We will have to agree to disagree," he told her, blatantly ignoring the way her legs rubbed across the tightness of his pants. "You can't convince me otherwise."

"You are pretty set in your way," she said, leaning back against an oversized pillow and popping a kernel into her mouth.

"I think we share that in common," he said with his own smile, tipping back the bottle of beer he had chosen to wash down the saltiness. "But I stand by my statement."

A few minutes of the movie passed, the two of them watching Marty attempt to reunite his parents in a time before he was even born. The only sound other than the movie was chewing until Emma began to fidget on the couch, drawing his attention when her legs again brushed against his hardening length. He turned an eye toward her curiously to find her the picture of innocence and sweetness.

"I'm cold," she said in a small voice. "I was going to put my feet under the pillow."

He reached over to grab the cashmere throw and draped it over her legs. Raising an eyebrow, he silently asked if that was acceptable. She nodded, and reached for more of the popcorn as he did the same with his own bowl.

"Killian?" she asked a few minutes later. "Do you have another beer in the refrigerator?" She was aware that he did, having gotten out the two earlier.

He smirked at her tactic and lifted her legs off of him to go retrieve it for her. When he returned she was just coming back to the room too, carrying a pair of his socks and telling him that she hoped he didn't mind her borrowing them. She wiggled and contorted on the couch as she put them on. Again, it wasn't an act that should have been sensual, but it was killing him to watch. His only verbal response was to say her name warningly.

"Would you mind passing me the good popcorn," she said when she settled back onto the couch. "By that I mean mine."

He leaned forward, grabbing the bowl and handing it to her. His own hand stayed on it a bit longer than necessary. But she showed no signs that she wanted anything other than the salty snack and the beer that he had opened for her. She hummed contentedly as he restarted the movie.

They sat there side by side for another few minutes as Marty performed on stage at the dance. Killian was tapping his foot along with the music when she let out a little gasp. As he turned to discover the source of her distress, he found her pulling the black shirt of his away from her skin and staring down and her now exposed breasts.

"I dropped some," she said with a sheepish giggle. He looked amused. "Don't laugh at me." She wiggled and reached her hand between the fabric and her skin.

"Need a hand, love?" he asked, doing his best to seem disinterested and failing. She nodded, letting his hands pull open the shirt and run down the pebbled skin. One at a time, he found the three kernels and plucked them from her, popping them into his mouth as he went.

"I think that's it," she told him.

He took a long pause, hovering over her as she watched him with interest. The newly risen moonlight from the windows shone through and reflected on his gorgeous face. She knew he was about to say something, and important look on his face was evidence enough. And in true Emma form, she lifted up to kiss him, adding to her belief that if his lips were busy that they wouldn't say anything they couldn't take back. She was afraid he would back off and insist on a conversation, but his tongue darted into her mouth and hungrily lapped at its warm curves.

A fire ignited between them, heating up every inch of her skin with desire. Emma ran her hands up his chest and began to pull at his shirt. His hands slid behind her and gripped on to her firm rear as her lips moved to his earlobe, sucking on it gently. She made a slow trail with her tongue down to the flesh of his neck and nibbled at it lightly, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne that lingered on his skin.

Killian's hands traveled up her back and then moved to her chest to massage her breasts now that there was no barrier between them. She moved her lips from his neck, to kiss the top of his bare chest. She slowly unbuttoned each button, leaving a kiss on his bare skin as she moved down to his abdomen. She untucked the shirt from his pants, and Killian pulled it all the way off for her.

She took a moment to catch her breath at the sight of his exposed chest, her fingers brushing through the dark hair there. His muscles rippled in all the right places, and he was as she always thought in such moments absolutely perfect. She ran the tip of her tongue over each perfect muscle, causing Killian to groan softly. Her fingers slid over his bare skin as she made her way back up to face him. She nibbled on his lower lip and Killian reached his hands pull his shirt off her shoulders.

Emma kissed him passionately, sucking on his tongue as found his way to more skin. His fingertips slid over the skin of her back, causing a shiver of pleasure to run through her. Emma slid her arms out of the sleeves and the shirt dropped into a puddle on the floor. His hands massaged her breasts tenderly, then he pinched and rolled each nipple between his fingers, causing her to moan loudly. He dove in between her bare breasts and ran his tongue between them, and then over to one nipple, clamping on to it forcefully. He sucked at her nipple roughly as Emma's hands found the buckle to his belt. She quickly undid it and unzipped his pants with ease. Her hand nimbly found its way underneath his boxers and began stroking his hard length.

Killian switched his mouth to her other nipple as Emma steadily stroked his throbbing erection. His mouth finally left her breasts and Emma took that opportunity to pull his pants off his hips, leaving his cock free from its restraints. She rolled herself off the couch and kneeled to the floor, running her tongue from the base up to the tip of it slowly. Killian gripped on to the edges of the couch, as she swirled her tongue around his balls leisurely.

She put the tip of his cock in between her lips and sucked at it until a loud groan escaped Killian's throat. She slid her lips farther down the shaft, slowly bringing more of him inside the warm tunnel of her mouth. She bobbed her head up and down on his cock, driving Killian insane with pleasure. She continued until she knew he was riding too close to the edge of his climax, so she slid her mouth away in one smooth motion.

Killian had to take a moment to slow his breathing and return to coherent thought. He slid off the edge of couch, pulling them both to standing and wrapping his arms around her as he reclaimed her mouth with his own. He held on to her and brought her backwards to the bedroom across the way. He lifted her up until she sat on the edge of his bed.

Killian nibbled at her earlobe, and then made a trail down her neck. His hand rode up her inner thigh, and his finger ran over her slit, which was already soaked with her own juices. He slid his fingers into her easily and Emma moaned loudly, as his lips moved down back to her breasts. He made circles with his tongue around her nipples as his fingers were thrusting into her.

His tongue made a pathway in between her breasts and over her flat stomach. He easily found her clit with his tongue and began lapping at it hungrily. Emma screamed with pleasure and dug her fingers into his shoulder as he plunged deeper into her with his fingers. He slid his fingers out and replaced it with his tongue, sucking at her folds of skin as he dove in and out of her with his tongue.

Emma climbed higher towards her peak, and then suddenly he moved away from her, leaving her to groan in frustration.

"Oh God... That was so mean."

Killian grinned at her and nodded in agreement. He readjusted her to the center of the bed, her pouting lips taunting him as she whined. He hovered above her with a smile.

His lips found hers and he kissed her deeply as he poised himself at her waiting entrance. Emma ran her hands over his bare back, her body aching for him to continue. He broke off their kiss and held on to her tightly, preparing to enter her. He slid into her easily and Emma cried out with pleasure as he filled her up, causing every nerve in her body to tingle.

Killian began thrusting in to her slowly at first, each one of his smooth thrusts punctuated with a moan from Emma's lips. Emma wrapped her legs around him tightly, pulling him in even further and Killian quickened his pace. It didn't take long for her to climb the mountain again. Emma raked her fingernails over his strong back and felt her climax cover her from head to toe with fire. She trembled with pleasure underneath him, her toes curling up as Killian continued pounding in to her.

The mattress underneath them shook with each of his thrusts, and Emma was still lost in the haze of her orgasm, when Killian began furiously pumping his cock into her. Killian buried himself deep inside her, and came with a loud groan. He continued moving inside her until he was too weak to carry on.

He laid his head on her chest as he tried to catch his breath, and Emma ran her fingers through his dark hair with a sigh of pure contentment. They lay there together, blissfully enjoying the feel of each other for quite a while, both of them too lost in the moment to do anything else.