The Second Time
The second time it had happened she'd been drinking alone at Granny's. The stress of her parents doting, Regina's insistence that she be allowed to have a more active role in Henry's life, and Neal's overall continued presence in Storybrooke, too much for her to handle without the aid of alcohol. He had strolled in shortly after her third beer and without hesitation had joined her. They had proceeded to drink a filthy amount of liquor together, buying each other shots and arguing over nothing of significance. When they had finally closed their tabs the sexual tension between them had been near tangible. The second time had been hasty, raw, and slightly dirty. The alleyway behind the diner had been as far as they had made it before he had pressed her up against the brick wall of the nearest building, taking her hard and fast—their muffled pants echoing throughout the night. And when they had finished she had zipped up her jeans avoiding his eyes, telling him that, that was definitely the last time. And he had merely smirked knowingly before wishing her goodnight and disappearing into the darkness.
~Mine
Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT
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"You ready for your third?"
At the sound of Ruby's slightly amused voice, Emma glanced up, her mouth twitching into a smirk as she nodded without hesitation, ignoring the briefest hint of concern that flashed in the waitress' eyes as she looked back down at the table in front of her, tracing small circles slowly on the clean smooth surface. Even as her mind began to wander, she could feel Ruby still staring at her—her dark gaze searching her, almost imploring Emma to look back at her, to open herself up while laying her problems out on the table. But refusing the silent offer of friendship, Emma stubbornly kept her eyes down, vaguely noting Ruby's soft sigh—the sound of her footsteps fading away causing relief to wash over her as she brought the mug of beer to her lips, sipping the last of its contents.
Quiet life in Storybrooke was going to take some getting used to.
With Neverland far behind them, everyone had settled into a routine.
A routine that Emma both appreciated and despised.
Her parents were constantly studying her, their concerned gazes watching her, searching her, almost as if they were just waiting for her to crack and finally break—nearly three decades worth of anguish and hurt and desperation coming to an end.
Regina was a relentless annoyance—after their tentative alliance to get Henry back from Neverland she was constantly pestering Emma for more time with their son. It bothered her, the mayor's past actions were hard to forget, and the tiny seeds of jealousy that lurked in her heart didn't make things any less complicated. The former evil queen had gotten to spend the past eleven years with her son—and now Emma had just gotten him back and was still getting to know him, she hated for anyone, his adoptive mother included, to disrupt their time together.
To make matters even worse, Neal was still in town, and their relationship was rocky to say the least. Having put his plans of going back to New York on hold, he had taken up what seemed like a near permanent residence in Granny's Inn, adding yet another person to the already too large list of people she had to share her son with.
Sighing Emma leaned back in the booth she was sitting in—tucked away in the back of the diner she was able to observe who was coming and going with whom. Although, taking note of the nearly empty restaurant and the somewhat late hour, she had a feeling before too long it was going to be just her and Ruby, until the waitress finally closed up shop and kicked her out. Rolling her tense shoulders, she continued to let her mind wander further, wincing a bit as her thoughts immediately drifted to him.
Hook.
And with those thoughts heated images assaulted her brain—she could nearly hear his gruff voice in her head, she could feel his hot fingers on her body, her skin against his, his mouth on hers. And with the memories the puzzling and mixed feelings of desire, regret, and need collided together inside of her; creating a firestorm of emotions that left her feeling both annoyed and confused.
For a while she had almost effortlessly avoided him—the pirate Captain seemingly preferring to stick to the docks and his ship. She should have known better than to get comfortable. It was just as she had begun to feel more at ease in town, unafraid that she would find him lurking outside the sheriff's station or hanging around Granny's diner that she had run into him.
Quite literally…
"But like do you ever think about going back? Living in a castle, riding horses, going on more adventures?"
Emma rolled her eyes, focusing on her ice cream cone in hand as Henry walked next to her continuing to barrel on and on about returning to the Enchanted Forest, the kid's desire to play knight and slay dragons both endearing and tiring.
"I don't think they have indoor plumbing kid. You really want to go to a place with no hot showers?"
Licking around her cone she watched as Henry finished the rest of his, and stopping, he turned to look at her, tilting his head to the side as he seemingly considered her question. And as she took in the sight of him, a bundle of energy and hope, she couldn't help the small smile that dusted her lips as she studied him. After all they'd been through, it was simple moments like this…a walk in the park while eating ice cream with her son…that the desire to fall to the ground and hug her knees to her chest while indulging herself in a good long cry came on the strongest.
Dramatic but true all the same.
"I don't know." Henry said slowly, and looking up at her, his eyes drifted past her shoulder, his face brightening considerably. "What do you think Captain is it that bad?"
Eyes widening Emma turned around; stepping forward slightly as she did she found herself running right smack into the middle of a hard, sturdy, unyielding and very male body. Gasping softly, she let out a string of curses as the ice cream cone she'd been holding got sandwiched between them—the cold dessert smearing against the exposed skin of her chest, in a mixture of vanilla and chocolate. As he brought his arms up, both his fingers and hook settling at her waist to steady her, she shivered, and clenching her teeth together, tried to tell herself it was because of the cold melting ice cream and not his hot all too familiar touch.
"Hello Swan."
He spoke quietly, his voice washing over her in a lilting and intoxicating tone—she just barely suppressed the urge to sigh and lean into him, the impulse both surprising and annoying her. Backing away from him, she avoided his eyes as she wiped away the smeared ice cream with the rumpled napkin she had wrapped around the cone.
"Hook." She said softly, her gaze focused intently on her task.
"You should be more careful princess."
Irritated she looked up at him with a sigh, immediately registering her mistake when she realized he was still too close for comfort—his blue eyes hot and burning, the feeling of being stripped and exposed in front of him unsettling her.
"Maybe you shouldn't sneak up on people…it's weird. Creepy." She muttered; wincing when she saw the top of her tank top was stained with chocolate.
"Yes well, I'll keep that in mind." His voice held the tiniest hint of amusement, and she cursed him again, because suddenly her entire body was humming as memories of the last time they had been together bombarded her quickly, nearly leaving her breathless.
"So what do you think Captain…is the Enchanted Forest really that bad compared to Storybrooke?"
At the sound of Henry's voice behind her, she jumped, watching as Hook's eyes softened considerably before glancing over her shoulder at her son and seeing the gentle look he gave him, she felt the oddest sensation course through her as the pirate bestowed Henry with a quick and genuine smile.
"It's Killian my boy, we're not on my ship, you needn't call me Captain." For a moment his eyes drifted back to her, and leaning in, closing the gap between them so that his body brushed against hers ever so slightly, he lowered his voice. "Although you Swan, may call me Captain anytime you want…I would so enjoy hearing it—"
"Shut up!" she hissed at him through gritted teeth, narrowing her eyes as he smiled wickedly at her and shot her a quick wink before straightening again, once more focusing his attention on her son.
"Storybrooke has its advantages yes, but the Enchanted Forest is my home lad…I look forward to the day I can return."
At his words, her eyes snapped to him and she noticed with some reluctance how something suddenly pulled at her belly—an odd and out of place panicked feeling shooting through her body. Studying him quietly she watched as he slowly turned his head, locking his gaze with hers—his eyes searching, a silent question in their blue depths.
"Is something bothering you darling?"
"I—I just didn't realize you planned on going back?"
He stared at her hard for a moment, something intense flashed in his gaze while faint gentleness took hold of his features. "Would it bother you if I did lass?"
Yes.
"No. I mean,…I—um…" her voice wavered as she considered his question. It would. She knew it would—more than she was willing to admit. And her mind began to wander without her consent, the memories…the taste and feel of his lips against hers silently taunting her. "Um—"
"When are you going back?"
Henry's voice had her shaking her head, clearing it of the fogginess that his revelation had suddenly brought upon her.
"When are you going back?" Henry questioned again, stepping towards them.
And noticing how close they were standing, Emma quickly backed away.
His eyes still on her, Hook smirked. "It depends lad."
"On what?"
Turning his focus back on her son, Hook answered his question, his voice holding a steely an unwavering determination. "There's an elusive creature that resides in this land…something I'd like bring back with me."
Feeling her face go hot as his words dripped with implications, the intensity of his tone startling her, she barely registered Henry's inquiry about what he was talking about—her son's question full of youthful innocence. And as Hook expertly changed the subject, distracting him with tales of the high seas, Emma turned from the duo, her heart in her throat, and something odd and hopeful settling itself within her.
"Here ya go…anything else?"
Glancing up as Ruby placed her beer in front of her, Emma shook her head silently, her thoughts scattering as the memory from the park resonated softly in her brain.
"You okay Emma?"
Nodding, she forced a tight smile, closing her eyes for a minute before meeting Ruby's dark and curious stare. "Yeah, yeah I was just thinking, that's all."
"If you want to talk…" the brunette let the sentence hang for a moment, and Emma was hit with the sudden and swift feeling of guilt and ungratefulness as the realization that the girl who stood before her had never offered her anything but unwavering and unquestioned support.
"Thank you." she said softly, wishing she could find it in herself to open up to her…to anyone really. "I've really just got some things on my mind I'd rather not talk about but—"
"It's fine…just..if you need me, I'm here. Sometimes it's better to get things out in the open."
Touched by the offer, Emma watched as Ruby walked away, the waitress clearing the surrounding tables as she slowly made her way back to the front counter. And looking down, Emma focused her attention on her hands, picking at her fingernails as her thoughts began to drift, annoyed when they immediately went back to a certain captain with a penchant for rum and a knack for cleverly placed innuendos.
"Fancy seeing you here Swan."
At the sound of his low and smooth deeply accented voice, Emma closed her eyes tightly on a wince while briefly wondering who the hell she had pissed off upstairs to put her in such an undeserved situation—she had just wanted to drink in peace, was that really too much to ask.
"Hook…I was just leaving."
"Pity."
Ignoring him, she brought her beer to her lips and chugging deeply tried not to flinch when he sat down in the booth across from her, his legs brushing hers lightly as he settled in comfortably, seemingly unconcerned by the stiff tone she had greeted him with. Setting the mug down on the table between them and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she leveled him with a curious glare.
"What are you doing?"
He shot her a slow grin; it was unfair really, the way his mouth was able to quirk up into something that promised wicked and wonderful things, all in a tiny and calculated tilt of his lips. "Ordering you another ale darling, and myself some rum."
Barely suppressing the urge to laugh in his face, Emma shook her head quickly, her eyes rolling to the ceiling. "I am not drinking with you."
Seemingly ignoring her incredulous tone Hook waved Ruby back to their table, shooting the brunette a quick wink as she caught sight of them and gave a curt nod, signaling she'd be over shortly. As his eyes lingered on the waitress a moment longer than necessary, Emma felt her posture straighten slightly, her eyes narrowing fractionally. And as something cool and tingling ran down her spine…something that very closely resembled jealousy…she cursed silently, annoyed with both herself and with him for reasons she was unwilling to admit to.
"Hook I'm not—"
"Not sure you can hold your own against a pirate sweetheart?"
"Don't be stupid."
"Scared then?"
This time she did laugh at him, the sound not quite ringing true as it held a note of disbelief and rang with unmasked sarcasm. "That's a cute trick…but also an old one. You aren't going to get me to drink with you by—"
"Is it because of what happened last time we were alone together pet? I don't regret it Emma…not a bit"
"Shut-up!" the words flew from her mouth in a whispered shriek and as Ruby approached them, she watched as she raised a dark eyebrow questioningly, her gaze flitting between the two of them.
"Everything okay?"
Gritting her teeth, Emma watched as Hook shot her friend a slow appraising look—the once over, followed by an innocent smile. "I was merely trying to convince the sheriff to indulge in an ale with me."
Glancing over at Emma, Ruby stared at her a moment, her expression speculative. "Emma?"
Maybe it was the drinks that were already buzzing their way through her veins, settling in her brain and bringing her defenses down a little. Maybe it was the stupid unwanted threat that lingered in the back of her head—shooting images of Hook and Ruby leaving the diner together. Or maybe it was just him; his knowing eyes and unnerving presence…but before she could stop herself she was turning her gaze to Ruby and giving her a tight smile and a quick nod.
"You got tequila here?"
Ruby narrowed her eyes, surprise briefly flashing in them. "Um yeah…we keep the liquor stocked."
"Bring us a bottle of whatever tequila you've got in stock and some limes. Keep the beer coming."
Ruby's eyes widened a little, a small grin appearing on her mouth before disappearing smartly. "Uhhh sure…coming right up."
Turning back to Hook, Emma shot him a dull smile, ignoring the smug look that had settled across his features. "You need to expand your horizons past rum and I'm not in a whiskey mood tonight so we're drinking tequila.
"Naturally."
"Have you ever had tequila?"
"No matter the liquor I can hold own my sweetheart don't fret over me."
Her humorless smile widened, crinkling her eyes a bit at the corners. "I'm not."
"Right, of course you're not darling."
Scowling, she leaned back as Ruby made a swift return with their order—setting two beer mugs down in front of them, as well as a bowl of limes, the bottle of tequila along with a couple of shot glasses—the waitress was barely able to hide the smirk on her lips as she cleared Emma's old mug away before muttering something about yelling if they needed anything.
Clearing his throat, Hook reached out and picked up the bottle, turning it over and studying it questioningly. And watching as his blue gaze appraised the liquor, his eyes somehow intense and smoldering even with the simple and curious task, suddenly annoyed and on edge, Emma shot a hand out and grabbed it from him harshly, ignoring the amused smile that dashed across his lips as the bottle was ripped from his grasp. Refusing to meet his blatant stare, she lined up the shot glasses, pouring a healthy dose in each. And grabbing the limes she slid his shot over to him, carefully laying the citrus next to it as she did.
"What the bloody hell is this?"
She smirked at him, and grabbing the salt, raised a brow. "It's how we get stupid drunk here…shots." And without another word, she licked the skin where her thumb and forefinger met, sprinkled it with salt and sucked it lightly before throwing back the shot and bringing the lime to her mouth, sucking on it as the tequila burned its way down her throat.
"That's a sodding waste of good liquor."
Emma laughed—the buzz from the shot swimming a bit in her head, her skin heating as she noticed his eyes lingering on her lips. "Really and why's that?"
"Where I come from we savor it darling"
"Scared of drinking too much?"
Picking up the shot glass, Hook sniffed at the tequila, his eyebrows rising fractionally as he did. "Just a bit puzzled by your practices love."
With her previous beers and the current shot running through her veins, suddenly feeling bold she leaned over the table ever so slightly, "Not sure you can hold your own against a princess…Captain?" she said softly, murmuring his challenge back to him.
The look that flashed in his eyes was as dark as it was promising, and before she had the chance to lean away from him again, he grabbed her wrist with his hooked hand. Disregarding the gasp of protest that fell from her lips, he brought her hand to his mouth—kissing her skin lightly and then pouring salt on it quickly. And before she could register what he was doing…his obvious intentions…before she could even attempt to put out the sudden burst of fire that roared to life inside of her, he was licking the salt off of her slowly, his tongue darting out knowingly. And holding her eyes, he threw the tequila back, smirking a bit as it ran down his throat, completely disregarding the lime as he swallowed.
"Curious." he said softly, his eyes going from her to the bottle.
Her skin was scorching.
"Don't—don't do that again." Her voice was raspy, her tone weak. Belatedly she realized he was still holding her hand, and snatching it away from him, she wiped her palm on her jeans, the lingering feel of his tongue on her skin refusing to fade.
Hook merely smiled seemingly both unconcerned and unaffected, and grabbing the tequila he poured them another shot. "Shall we have another my dear?"
Wrapping her fingers around her beer mug, Emma took a moment to steady her breathing, her skin still hot from where his mouth and tongue had brushed her. Bringing the mug to her lips she took a long sip, savoring the cold taste of the beer as it slid down her throat, cooling the harsh aftereffects of the tequila. He was dangerous…this was dangerous…and she knew that if she continued to drink with him, continued to allow herself to stay in his company…things would not end well.
"This ale disturbingly resembles water.
His matter of fact tone had her eyes shooting to his and lowering the mug, she smiled despite herself at his somewhat offended tone. "You'll get used to it."
Smirking, he leaned in towards her, the action causing her to sit back in the booth, pressing her body into her seat, she attempted to get as far away from him as possible. And taking note of her actions, he cocked an eyebrow, his mouth twitching ever so slightly. "Why were you here drinking alone lass?"
Unnerved by his question, by his overall presence, Emma shook her head, and grabbing her shot lifted it to her lips, ignoring the warning bells in her head, the fluttering of butterflies that were coming to life in her belly as her hazy brain kept conjuring up hot images of them together—the mere brush of his leg against hers underneath the table doing nothing to stop her wandering mind.
"Just needed a break." she said hoarsely and disregarding the salt, she threw the shot back and grabbed a lime, sucking on it to chase the burning taste away.
"I could offer you the distraction you so desperately seek." He sipped his beer carefully, raising a brow when she sighed and looked pointedly at his still full shot glass.
"Not gonna happen pal, and you're a shot behind now." Gesturing to his tequila, she drank more of her beer, ignoring the way her whole body was humming at the obvious implications of his last statement.
Chuckling deeply, the sound resonating in her head and stoking the fire that was warming her from the inside out, he picked up his shot and threw it back without hesitation, licking his lips and catching an escaping drop with his tongue as he placed the glass back down again, his eyes seeking hers once more.
She was fucked.
Looking away from him and over his shoulder, her eyes falling on a bored Ruby for a moment, and then back at the table in front of them, she focused on the scuff marks that marred its surface. Sighing softly, her head buzzing slightly, she ran her tongue across her lips, licking the last remnants of salt away. "So you're thinking about going back to Fairytale Land?"
"Fairytale Land?"
She picked at the scratches and dents, refusing to look him in the eye. "The Enchanted Forest…the other day in the park you had mentioned it."
She heard him shift in his seat—the scrape of his beer mug against the table, the soft sound of him taking a deep drink—before he placed the mug back down, his knuckles rapping lightly against the glass.
"Eventually I'd like to go back there yes."
"Why?" she asked the table, her eyes still cast down, still reluctant to meet his stare. And she hated the quiet note of uncertainty laced with just the tiniest hint of desperation and betrayal that lurked in her tone.
It took him a moment to answer but when he did the wistfulness in his tone was unmistakable, "The Enchanted Forest…there's something wild and beautiful and free about it. I feel trapped here…caged. I'm quite certain I don't belong in this land."
Something inside of her dropped at the words—they stung. More than she was willing to admit. And she tried to tell herself it was the alcohol—the liquor acting as an intensifier for the stupid schoolgirl crush she had. Because that was what it was…a crush, a slight infatuation…an itch that needed to be scratched.
Lies.
"But as I told your boy there's something…" he paused, a silence hanging between them for a moment, "someone…in this world I wish to bring with me…a little convincing…"
Her body began to tingle as his words trailed off, her throat tightened almost painfully and shooting her somewhat hazy gaze up, she met his cool and unblinking stare. "I'm not something to—to just be possessed Hook." Her voice came out huskier than she would have liked, the words more of a soft murmur than a sharp shutdown.
He grinned at her quickly, his legs stretching out just a bit beneath the table, the action causing them to brush up against hers, the touch nearly burning the skin beneath her jeans.
"You misunderstand me Swan, given the opportunity you're much like the land you come from…wild, beautiful, and free…this place has you contained I only want to show you the possibilities, I'd never dream—"
"Stop." Cutting him off, unwilling to listen to anymore, afraid of what he would reveal, she poured them another shot, his words still sliding silkily over her—whispering hidden meanings and revelations she wasn't yet ready to hear. "Do another with me."
He laughed at her demand, watching her closely as she licked her wrist and salted her skin.
"You know I think about it constantly."
"What?" she asked the question before she could stop herself and throwing back the shot she attempted to ignore his impending answer.
"Our night together. The way you came undone beneath me. The sight of you yielding to me in my arms. The feel of you letting go completely."
At his words the tequila burned, she sputtered slightly, choking on the alcohol as immediately she saw visions of them dancing before her eyes; the way he had driven himself into her, the way she had clung to him desperately—calling out his name, coming hard, and needing more. Unable to take the intensity of the images, the swirling emotions, she shut her eyes quickly, shaking her head, and cursing silently as her fuzzy brain swam.
"God…just…I—I…"
"It felt right."
Placing a shaky hand to her head, she let out a heavy breath, his hypnotizing voice luring her to lean closer as she noted the way his fingers stroked the side of his beer mug softly, almost tenderly—she swore to God he was doing it on purpose.
"Hook…"
"Can I get you guys anything else…you're doing a pretty decent job on that tequila."
Practically jumping away from him, Emma shot back in her seat at the sound of Ruby's voice, watching as Hook smirked infuriatingly at her, his eyes roaming over her knowingly, the small grin catching on his lips suggestively. Finally, slowly, breaking his gaze away from hers, releasing her from his blue and binding spell he looked over at Ruby, flashing her his most winning smile.
"Get the lass a bit of rum and we'll be leaving here shortly, the sheriff won't be able to walk home if she has too much more."
Straightening in her seat, Emma shot him a glare. "I'm fine and I said I wasn't drinking rum."
"Do me the favor Emma."
At his lazy request, the playful look he shot her, and the devil-may-care grin that ghosted his lips, she found herself nearly speechless, struggling not to indulge in a genuine smile—part of her wanting desperately to throw caution to the wind.
"Fine whatever."
At her answer his smile widened and standing suddenly, Emma watched as he walked towards the bathrooms, his movements still graceful even after the beer and liquor he had consumed.
"So you want to talk about this before he comes back?"
Looking down at her empty mug, Emma cringed slightly at Ruby's vaguely amused question, hating the knowing and appreciative tone that was woven into it.
"Nope."
At her fast answer, Ruby chuckled and nodding, she cleared away some of the limes and their empty beer mugs. "Can't say that I blame you…that man…the things I would do to him…"
"Ruby!"
Shooting her a fast grin, seemingly unconcerned by Emma's outraged tone, the brunette shrugged. " A girl can always look." And grabbing the last of their discarded limes she walked away, quipping over her shoulder that she'd be back with their rum.
At the reminder, Emma chewed on her lip lightly, considering the diner's door she studied the exit hard. She could make a run for it. She had cash in her pocket—she could throw down enough money to cover their drinks and flee into the night, the possibility of him catching up to her a risk she'd have to take.
If she left now there was a chance she could avoid the inevitable…because willing to accept it or not she couldn't deny that there was something between them. Something that screamed significance and threatened consequence. If she left now she could resist the longing, the pull, the need for one more night…one more time. If she stayed the urge to succumb to him—especially with her brain slightly foggy, her body humming with desire, and lips burning with need—would be too great for her to ignore.
Watching as Ruby walked back towards the table, two small glasses filled with rum on her tray, she continued to chew her lip while casting her eyes towards the small hall Hook and disappeared down. And as the liquor was placed down in front of her, followed by a quick wink and a friendly smile, Emma settled back in her seat, a sigh that flitted somewhere between defeat and acceptance escaping her lips as she drew her glass of rum closer to her. Bringing it to her nose she sniffed the strong contents, a tiny smirk crossing her lips as the familiar scent drifted up to her—a scent that would always remind her of adventure, of the sea…of him.
And it was with that thought and gentle realization that she made her decision.
She was staying.
"I can't believe you paid for our drinks with a bag of gold and…what was that a diamond?" Emma rubbed her temples tiredly, shaking her head as he stepped in front of her, holding the door open and smiling charmingly as she merely rolled her eyes and exited the diner.
"Sapphire…and the barmaid seemed quite pleased by the satchel of gems I offered her."
Caught somewhere between amusement and exasperation, Emma closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feel of the night air washing over her, caressing her hot cheeks and cooling her body. Glancing behind her, she frowned slightly when she saw how close he was to her, having come up to walk beside her, his body nearly brushed against hers.
"That's not how we pay for stuff here."
He smirked, staring down at her thoughtfully, his eyes even more vividly blue in the black night as they searched hers relentlessly, a quiet challenge hidden in their endless depths even as they continued their mundane conversation. "Ahhhh yes, the paper money, something I'll never understand."
"It's how things work here." She said softly, her body suddenly feeling alive in the more intimate setting of the dark and silent outdoors. She could feel her resolve against him quickly fading, her desire to resist him nearly gone. "Listen um…thanks for the drinks and company and whatever…I'm—uh gonna get going. It's a short walk and I'll—I'll see you around or something."
His presence was unnerving, his closeness distracting.
She had to get away from him.
Clearing her throat she turned and began walking away, shaking her head, she tried to clear it as she turned down the alley, intent on losing him, needing to collect herself, desperate to begin thinking rationally once again. She had just barely begun to put space between them when she heard the sound of footsteps behind her—the stride fast and full of purpose. Heaving a sigh, she turned, watching as his dark figure came towards her quickly, the sight of him advancing on her with only the dim moonlight cast behind him nearly stealing her breath. And as he drew even closer, approaching her fast, she felt her heart leap to her throat as every nerve in her body stood to attention.
"Hook listen—"
He didn't give her a chance to finish, closing the space between them, he brought his good hand behind her neck and wrapping his hooked arm around her waist, he dragged her to him, silencing her muffled protests with his hot and branding lips—kissing her hard and without the courtesy of preamble.
The moment his lips touched hers, the moment their bodies collided, pressing together intimately…she knew fighting him was hopeless. Sucking in a breath and winding her arms around his neck, she returned his kiss without thought, nipping at his lips and pressing him to her, needing to feel his body heavy against hers. At her vigorous and enthusiastic response he made an appreciative humming sound low in his throat and walking her backwards, pushed her up against the wall behind her, the feeling of hard brick at her back only intensifying her need while fueling her growing hunger.
"Oh God." She murmured, as his lips left hers and trailed hotly down her neck biting the skin there as his stubble scratched and marked her. His hands, good and bad, were everywhere at once—his fingers and hook running up and down her hips, digging into her, the touch sending a shudder down her body.
Not allowing herself a chance to think it through—silently telling herself she was drunk and horny and he was willing and ready, disregarding the dark and taunting voice in the back of her head that was blatantly calling her on her lie—she pulled at his pants, untying the laces with frantic fingers.
"Emma." His gruff voice had a question laced through it, one that was terrifying and thrilling and telling.
One she was unwilling to answer.
"Shut-up" she whispered against his lips, catching them again in a frantic and frenzied kiss, her tongue tangling with his, the action causing him to thrust his body towards hers on a broken groan. His hands moved from her hips to her pants, unbuttoning them, he dragged the zipper down, his movements impatient and fast. And when his fingers dipped inside her underwear, finding their way to where she was already hot and wet for him, she threw her head back, breaking their kiss—her muffled gasp echoing in the dead silence that surrounded them.
"So wet Emma." he said softly as he dipped a finger into her, stroking her deeply, fingering her knowingly.
Her head was buzzing from both tequila and his actions, and for a moment she was afraid she was going to fall to the ground, her body unable to take the sensations he was forcing on her—the feel of his finger slowly moving in and out of her at a torturing pace, the knowledge that they were outside, that what they were doing was wrong—only driving her lust on, increasing her desire and pushing her forward.
"I need…" she broke off on a moan as he thrust his finger deeper into her, her hands falling limply to her side as she leaned heavily against the wall, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with her.
Shifting towards her, so that he was pressed against her, his hand trapped between them, cupping her hotly, still moving his finger, he placed his lips near her ear. "What do you need?" he murmured softly, his breath, hot and laced with liquor, flitting down her neck.
"You." She breathed the word without thought, desperate for him and unwilling to deny it. "You, I need you. Please."
Pulling his head back from the side of her neck he looked down at her, and smiling darkly, moved forward and kissed her roughly—violently demanding she keep up with him, his tongue dueling with hers, his lips branding, his teeth scraping.
And she was drowning, unable to keep up, but unwilling to walk away.
Slipping his fingers out of her, he yanked her pants down. Not bothering to take his time, he fought with them so that they pooled near her feet. Impatiently he yanked one shoe off and then the other as she stood numbly allowing him to maneuver her—tossing the boots and her pants carelessly aside. And just as her cheeks were starting to flame, her mind begging her to second-guess their rash and hasty decision, he was slipping his own pants down. And bringing his hands to her again, resting them at either side of her hips, he leaned towards her once more.
"I'm going to have you Emma, right here, against this wall, I'm going to take you…unless you tell me no. Tell me no…right now…tell me it's not what you want and I'll let you go."
His deep voice was rougher and darker than she'd ever heard it, the sound sending chills down her spine as his warning, his words, resonated throughout her. And unable to find her voice, not sure if she'd ever be able to speak again, she pulled him closer, her nails clawing at his back as she kissed him—answering his question with her hungry lips.
He groaned with the action, and as he hoisted her up, she wrapped her legs around him willingly, their breaths mingling together as his body pressed her hard against the wall—the feel of the scratchy brick and the cool steel of his hook digging into her skin, causing her to moan in breathy pleasure. And clinging to him greedily, she whimpered as his hard length teasingly pressed against her hot entrance.
"Please." She whispered softly, tilting her head to the side as he paid her plea no mind, kissing up and down her neck, before claiming her lips once more. Tauntingly, teasingly, he thrust his hips upwards, pressing the tip of himself into her—and she closed her eyes for a moment, biting down hard on her lip. "Please I need it….Hook—Killian…please."
At the sound of his name on her lips, she felt him stiffen, and lifting his head, he stared at her intently—his eyes flashing, his breathing uneven. "Swan…Emma…" he murmured her name softly, almost tenderly, and without saying another word, he thrust his hips upwards again, sheathing himself fully inside of her, the action causing her to cry out silently, her head falling back against the wall as her brain swam dizzyingly and her body tingled appreciatively.
"Yes…yes." she whispered, the feeling of him completely buried inside of her, awakening the fire that lurked deep within, too great for her to deny.
And she was completely and undeniably his.
For a moment he stayed still, her walls pulsing and throbbing around him as he breathed heavily against her, his lips resting on the pulse point at her neck. And just when she was about to beg for him to look at her, to move, to do something, he raised his head, looked her in the eyes, and began to move.
The moment his hips drew back, sliding his length out of her, before pushing towards her again, she knew they were both lost. Almost calmly they gave themselves over to sensation and feelings, knowing there was no turning back—the chance to deny it had never really been there in the first place. And then finally, after that one fleeting moment of soothing acceptance, where their bodies joined together, welcoming each other, he set the pace.
It was fast, frantic, and near brutal.
He pounded into her hard, paying no attention, giving no care to the unforgiving wall at her back. And she relished the feeling, surprised by his strength, savoring the prickling of pain as he drove her towards blissful oblivion.
Whimpers fell from her lips rapidly as she clung to him, her legs locked tighter around him, refusing to let go. And as he continued to thrust into her deeply she knew she'd be marked the next day—her back scraping the wall, his fingers digging punishingly into her flesh.
And she loved it.
The pleasure and pain—it felt both right and wrong and she craved more, never wanting it to end.
She felt wild, beautiful and free.
Gasping as he shifted upwards, thrusting into her and hitting her in a spot that had her seeing sparks behind her eyes, she bit her lip as he leaned up and brought his mouth to her ear whispering hot words to her about how she felt wrapped around him—reveling over how tight and wet she was, repeating the words softly when they caused her to shiver, the low moan falling from her lips driving him on.
As he continued to fuck her hard, taking her and making her his, she tilted her head towards the sky, watching as dark clouds passed over the moon, the twinkling of stars shining down on them catching her eye as her walls began to tighten, his words echoing softly, the feel of him sliding in and out of her becoming too much.
"Killian." she said his name once, a whispered warning, and arching her body into his, she fell apart, coming hard, clenching around him and choking out a silent sob of ecstasy.
As she shuddered and whimpered, her orgasm violently wracking her body, she hugged him close, appreciating the way he continued to slam her into the wall, intent on seeking his own release, driven on by her soft cries and breathy pants.
"Say it again." he growled, his voice low and dangerous and pushing into her, he pinned her hard against the brick. The jarring feeling causing her to cry out—the sound muffled when he covered her mouth with his. Eagerly she kissed him back, responding enthusiastically even as her entire body went limp, humming and buzzing with the aftershocks of her climax. Breaking away from her, he moved his hips again, and reaching up, pulled on her hair, forcing her to look at him—sea and sky colliding in a storm of emotions—she lost herself in his eyes.
"Say it again Emma." he demanded, tilting his hips upwards again.
At that moment, it was hopeless to deny him.
At that moment she'd give him anything.
"Killian." she whispered against his lips, her breath feathering out in a halting rhythm.
And hearing it he closed his eyes, wincing slightly almost as if the sound caused him pain, before, muttering a curse,—a wish, an oath, a prayer—he pushed into her again, once, twice, before shuddering in her arms, and pulsing inside of her, coming hard and fast as his name continued to fall from her lips softly, soothingly, promisingly.
When they were both spent, with no more left to give and nothing more to take, gently he eased up on her, slipping out of her, and allowing her to unwrap her legs from around him, continuing to hold her up as she placed one unsteady leg on the ground and then another.
Letting out a slow, shuddering breath, she closed her eyes, releasing his neck from her brutal grasp, she backed away from him and rested her head against the brick, the feel of the wall at her back both comforting and threatening—the solid support soothing her, the cage it provided terrifying her.
As reality came crashing back down on her, edging its way into her still over liquored brain she shook her head, trying to summon up the proper feelings of regret and anger but unable to truly feel either.
Deep and warm satisfaction tinted with something much stronger lingered in her body instead.
And that, worried her more than anything else.
More than the fact that they had just had hot and dirty sex in the alleyway outside of the diner, more than the fact that she was going to be bruised and sore the next morning, more than the fact that she had told herself time and time again that their last encounter had been a one time thing only.
The feelings coursing through her were familiar and new—promising and devastating.
Bending over she retrieved her jeans and boots and tugging them up and slipping them on, she refused to look at him as he backed away from her and pulled his own pants up. Swallowing over her suddenly too narrow throat, she brought a shaky hand to her hair, her lips trembling ever so slightly, the urge to cry both surprising and angering her.
"That—that was definitely the last time." She said hoarsely to the ground, refusing to meet his eyes as her voice wavered with the words.
She both saw and felt him step towards her, his black boots moving closer to her, the warmth of his body, his familiar scent drawing nearer. And with the action she took a step back, cursing inwardly when her back hit the wall. Panicked, her eyes flashed to his, and when their gazes clashed, mentally she berated herself, because facing his burning, honest and intense gaze was something she wasn't prepared for, not when both her mind and body were still reeling from being with him.
"Hook I'm serious—"
He leaned towards her, cutting off her words, and she sucked in a deep breath, her vision wavering, her heart pounding. She told herself if he made another move she'd drop him, drunk or not she'd be able to hold her own against him, she was a fighter, a survivor. And just when she was about to push him away, to knee him in the groin, he shot her a quick smile, allowing his eyes to sweep down her once, before finding their way back to hers.
Inclining his head to the side he gave her a slight nod, "good night Emma…until next time."
And with those words, laced with the hint of a promise, he walked away, leaving her speechless.
As she watched as his figure leisurely moved farther from her, the night enveloping him slowly, before gradually consuming him entirely, in his place nothing but empty dark space, she battled silently with herself—half of her itched to shout his name, calling him back to her, while the other half begged for her to let him go, imploring she take the space he had given her.
For now, she chose the latter.
For now.
Sighing, the breath coming out harsh and shaky, Emma took note of the way her body began to quiver as dim revelations were slowly brought to light in her head. Tumultuous thoughts swirled in her brain and she tortured herself, conjuring up images of him, willingly taunting herself as she processed their heated actions.
She couldn't regret it.
She didn't want to regret it.
She wanted more.
Pushing herself away from the wall, she began walking, her legs unsteady, her body limp. And as she made her way home, her lazy mind refusing to dwell any further on her emotions and the consequences of their actions, she couldn't shake the feeling of his lingering presence that haunted her—the feel of his watchful eyes dancing across her skin as his words, husky and deep whispered in her head.
"Until next time."
TBC suckas.
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