He hadn't heard from her in a week - and he was surprised at the knot in his stomach at the end of each day that passed without so much as a word.
In the back of his mind he'd known that it was all a game to her. That if he got too close, too real, she'd pull away. But he couldn't help the sharp sting of disappointment at her sudden silence.
It was stupid, really, that he felt so attached for some reason - but it felt so good to think that someone wanted him, that he was desirable (even if it wasn't because of him, but rather just his job).
But, alas, here he was, alone as ever, with a mile-long list of recent sins to atone for.
For a long time while he was in seminary he'd kind of just ... lost … what was formerly a very active sex drive. He couldn't explain why. Maybe it was just the stress of classes and trying not to disappoint Father Brannan, or maybe it was the fact that he was around men all day, which reduced the opportunity for temptation (at least for him - he recalled quite a few classmates who seemed to struggle nonetheless, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't think about it a few times.)
After he met her it all came raging back. He couldn't go a day without touching himself, thinking of her. He was revved up all the time. After the meeting it all went away - his overwhelming desire for her replaced with an all-encompassing self-loathing and guilt over his weakness and pride.
Lucy was growing concerned at how sullen he'd been the past couple of days - and he wasn't eating much. She meant well, but there's no way to say "I was engaging in some incredibly satisfying sexual misconduct with the sheriff's daughter, who no longer finds me appealing - and that's really hurt my feelings."
He sighed deeply and resolved to get right with God about the whole thing. It was time to unburden his heart and stop sulking. He needed to admit defeat - she no longer desired him, priest kink or otherwise.
There was nobody in the church, so he felt comfortable lighting a few candles and settling on his knees in the first pew as he prayed. He was desperate to reconcile with God, desperate to rid himself of the turmoil he felt over his sin and her rejection.
Whispers of his prayers fell gently from his lips as he worked through his guilt, and when he finally settled back into the wooden pew his knees were sore and his body exhausted - he'd been so tense that when he finally relaxed after his confessions to his Lord he felt like he'd just completed a marathon with a 50 lb hiking backpack.
He sat back and let his head fall back and his eyelids fall closed in tired relief. Stretching his legs out in front of him he finally moved to get up, rolling his head in half circles to loosen the muscles of his neck.
"You look like you could use a neck rub."
The voice startled him - he didn't even notice anyone come in - but he was even more startled to see who the voice belonged to. Emma.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
"What are you doing here?" Even to his own ears he sounded rude. His voice was raw and harsh.
To be perfectly frank, he was unbelievably upset that she was there. It was literally mere seconds ago that he thought he might just be able to get past her, to get past them - whatever that meant. And right on cue, here she is.
She wasn't entirely sure what she was doing there. She hadn't been able to bring herself to talk to him since the meeting. She thought about it, several times. There were a few text messages that were half-formed before being deleted.
At first she tried picking up where she'd left off - overt sexuality and heavy-handed innuendo - but it just felt… wrong. Well, a different kind of wrong than it was before.
There was something about the broken way he told his story, and the genuine pleasure he had in describing how he'd come out of such dark times. It just made it impossible to treat him like… well, like nothing but a vessel for her fantasy.
But she wasn't quite ready to admit that she was actually interested in who he was, as a person - and his chosen profession was still a turn-on, but it was also a stumbling block. Why get attached to someone you can never have?
It all didn't change the fact that she had this nagging feeling - she couldn't leave things like that. She'd have to see him again anyway, with more community service on the way. But how does she back off now after… well, after everything?
"I - I wanted to thank you."
The meek tone in her voice was unlike anything he'd ever heard from her before. He slowly walked toward where she was seated, toward the back of the church, careful not to look up at her.
"For what?"
"I don't know, exactly," she shifted uncomfortably. "Your honesty, I guess. At the meeting."
So we're going to talk about that after all, he thought callously.
"Hm," he pulled up a few rows short of where she sat, leaning into one of the pews to straighten the bibles and hymnal books tucked into the chair backs. "I know you're new to this, but that's kind of the point of those things."
Wow. Well, that's not very priest-like, she thought at his brusque words.
A heavy silence fell between them, just long enough for him to regret letting his emotions get the better of him - he was being rather rude to her. He could practically see her walls being built up in the tension of her shoulders and the way her jaw set at his words.
She stood up to leave, not in the mood to deal with his prickly demeanor.
"Wait - Miss. Nolan," he stepped forward and reached a hand in her direction. "Please wait. I'm sorry. I just … I've got a confession of my own, if you'll allow me." He sighed as her hardened gaze met his pleading one.
"Fine." She crossed her arms over her chest impatiently. "Out with it."
"Since they day you walked into my office wielding that damn Sharpie of yours, I've been unable to get you out of my head," he looked her right in the eyes as he spoke - his sincerity apparent in every word.
"And then you … well, uhm," he scratched nervously behind his ear and a light flush rose to his cheeks. "You were… interested … in me, in a way that nobody has been for a very long time. And it felt incredible to be wanted, and desired in that way."
"You are so very beautiful," he was looking at her reverently now, his awkwardness softened into pure adoration. "You're unlike anyone I've ever met, and you brought out this fierce need in me that I thought I'd conquered long ago. Yet here you were, lighting my heart aflame with desire for you in so many ways," his eyes meandered the cut of her high cheekbones, her full pink lips - still parted slightly in surprise, the deep v of her gray t-shirt. He looked away sharply.
"But I'm not an idiot, Emma," he was staring at the floor now, the muscle on the side of his jaw ticking with tension. "I know what I was to you; just a game. An outlet for your little clergyman kink. And now that I'm not just a faceless priest, now that you've seen me for who I am - a weak and broken man," she doesn't miss the way his eyes dart to his prosthetic hand, "now you'll want nothing to do with me. And I must admit, I'm hurt by that. As much as I don't want to be."
For being so quiet the past couple of days, he feels like he's just spoken a novel in one breath, but he feels much better having finally said it all out loud.
She looks stunned, and (God help him), even that look of shock is gorgeous on her - but his heart hurts at the knowledge that whatever they had is over.
Granted, he knows it's for the best. Nothing can happen between them - he's a priest, after all. And if they continued they way they were going… there's no amount of atonement to cover the number of sins he'd commit with her.
"Father Jones?" Her voice wavered a little with uncertainty and he forced his stormy eyes to meet her emerald ones.
"I'm still interested in you."
His heart hung frozen in his chest.
"I was just toying with you at the beginning. But at the meeting, there was just something… It just felt different. I want you, not just the priest." She stepped toward him, feeling a little braver with each word as she saw the hope returning to his eyes.
He looked years younger already, and it only made her find him that much more appealing.
"Don't get me wrong, the priest thing is hot as hell," he quirked an eyebrow up at that, and she continued to stalk down the aisle at him. "That might be what started it all, but it's not the only reason I find you attractive."
She thinks you're attractive. This… goddess, thinks you are attractive.
She's close enough now to reach her hand to put her palm on his chest, and he gasps at the contact. She leans onto her toes (steadying herself with her hand on his chest) and whispers hotly into his ear.
"I still want you. All of you. If you still want me."
A shudder wracked through his entire body and his dormant desire for her suddenly raged full force again almost uncontrollably.
He felt dizzy with arousal, but stayed remarkably still, convinced if he breathed too hard he would wake himself from what was surely the best dream he's had in a long while.
She kissed his cheek as she rolled back down onto her heels, letting the hand on his chest tease toward his belly button a little before pulling it back and smiling up at him.
Though he enjoyed her spunky devil-may-care smirk, he worshipped her genuine smile - it was simply radiant.
"I do." He stammered, in awe of her. "I think I will always want you." He admitted, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
She reached up and took his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to it and watching him blush furiously - eyes darting to double check that they were alone.
"Is Lucy around?" Emma asked.
Killian cleared his throat "Yeah. Uh, she's around here somewhere."
"I was thinking maybe you and I could go up to your office to go over my schedule, and I wouldn't want her to misunderstand," the mischief in her eyes would've told him that she had no intention of going over schedules if the drop in her tone did not.
"I'll take care of it," he said quickly. Adjusting himself through his pants a little before setting off to find Lucy and send her on an errand.
She actually laughed a little at how fast he moved after being nearly glued to that spot on the floor for so long. She smiled to herself as she made her way up the stairs to his office, but standing at the window she started to feel nervous.
She was so bold before because she knew it was nothing but sex - even if they'd never really touched each other.
This time - this was more real, and it terrified her. They were both a little emotional from their honest discussion and confession that they may feel something beyond simple sexual attraction.
Before she could get too lost in her thoughts she saw Lucy through the window, heading to her car. Killian was suddenly at the door, flipping the latch.
"I locked the main doors as well, but… a little extra caution seems in order," he explained awkwardly. He just stood there, staring at her, fidgeting a little - clearly unsure of what to do.
For all of her anxiety just moments ago, seeing him here made her flush with desire. She knew there was no fighting it - she wanted him so desperately.
In a matter of steps she was gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him forward into a bruising kiss, tongue sweeping into his mouth as he moaned with pleasure before returning her affections with equal fervor.
All of that work praying to God, on his knees, desperate for forgiveness, and here he was willingly throwing it all away just to taste her. He'd do it again and again and again.
She felt his good hand slide behind her head, fingers dancing through her hair and holding her in place as if she would leave if he let go. His insistence sent a bolt of arousal straight between her legs, and she knew she wasn't going anywhere any time soon.
Before long his hand drifted down to her waist, then lazily back up to her ribs and ever so slowly over to her breast before palming it through the fabric of her shirt. It wasn't enough. He had to really feel her - now.
He quickly brought his hand back down to the hem of her shirt and slid his hand under it, at first gripping her hip and pulling her into him roughly.
Two can play at that game, she chuckled to herself before turning herself around in his arms and grinding her ass against him, feeling how hard he was through his pants and her jeans. He cursed under his breath and moved his hand further up her shirt and under her bra, moving his fingers lightly over her nipple, pinching lightly and savoring the small squeak of surprise that came from her.
"You've no idea how badly I've wanted you," he growled into her ear as she kept moving her hips rhythmically against him.
She flipped around in his arms again, this time bringing her hand down to cup his erection through his pants.
"I think I have some idea," she teased as he hissed through his teeth.
She put her hands up over her head and tilted her head a little to the side, silently asking him to pull her shirt up. Once he was done, she popped the clerical collar from his shirt, and started working the buttons open, sliding her hands along the smooth planes of his chest.
Her mind wandered a little as her hands explored the newly exposed skin - broad shoulders, tight abs, that perfect V at his hips leading her eyes exactly where he wanted her. It should be illegal for someone to look that hot.
He was painfully hard, and anxiousness began to creep into his thoughts as she eyed him. Did she like what she saw? Was she disappointed? Was he enough? Were they really going to… I mean, we haven't even really touched each other before now… I'll never last the way I want to.
"Hey." She pulled his chin down a little to force him to look her in the eyes. "Come back to me."
He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers.
"I'm nervous." He admitted shyly. "It's been… It's been awhile."
He blushed harder than she'd ever seen - all the way to the top of his ears.
"Do you trust me?" She responded.
"Aye."
"Good." She smirked up at him and pushed a finger into his chest to create a little space between them before snaking her hand down to his belt.
She made quick work of his pants and boxers - she inhaled sharply when he was finally bare before her. He was long and thick, easily bigger than anyone she'd been with before.
He caught the way her eyes widened at seeing his fully erect member, a surge of pride bursting into his chest.
She sank to her knees in front of him, carefully dragging her fingers along his smooth shaft, sending a ripple of pleasure so intensely through him he lost himself in the sensation.
Wetting her lips she leaned forward and licked a tight circle around the ridge of his cock - feeling him jolt under her touch. He was velvet smooth and comfortingly warm as she worked her clever tongue around the head, curling around it before pushing him so deeply into her throat that her nose was pressed against his pelvis.
He groaned with pleasure, already seeing stars as she continued to work her tongue over him. Praises and curses tumbled from his lips as he drowned in the sensation of her slick mouth moving over him at the perfect pace.
"Oh, God, Emma…"
She felt his hand move to the back of her head, holding tightly to a fistful of her hair as he finally chanced a look down at her. The sight of her lips wrapped around him, cheeks hollowed as she sucked, reminded him of that tantalizing picture with the lollipop and he knew he couldn't hold back any longer.
"Fuck, Emma, I… can't …" He closed his eyes in concentration - hand holding her just where he wanted her, hips stuttering a little as she took him all the way in and swallowed around him.
"Holy… fucking hell!" The pressure of her throat pulsing as she swallowed again sent him over the edge - every muscle in his body tense as he spurt his release down her throat. She pulled back and lapped at him until he instinctively jerked away from her - too sensitive to her touch - as he regained his breath.
"That was…" he sighed - looking utterly wrecked. "That was… uh…"
She chuckled at his incoherence.
"That was just part one," she teased, dipping her hand into her jeans - finding herself remarkably wet and ready for him.
His eyes roved her hungrily - stepping forward to kiss her fiercely, the taste of himself on her lips intoxicating. She allowed him to take control, and he held her tightly at the waist, head tilting to get better access to her as his tongue sought hers.
After a few minutes he broke away from her and turned to the cabinet holding his traditional Sunday robes. He pulled one out and unzipped it, laying it open as a makeshift blanket on the hardwood floor.
He continued kissing her neck, tongue peeking out to lick a quick stripe from time to time as he led her down to the floor and onto her back.
Looming over her he almost looked like a different person - blue eyes blown black with arousal, a new veracity in his features. He licked and sucked his way down her chest, using his good hand to pop the button and zipper on her jeans.
Knowing he'd struggle to get her out of them one-handed, she shimmied them off while he nipped and laved - leaving her breathless and writhing beneath him.
He smirked up at her rakishly before sliding down between her legs, settling his face exactly where she needed him - clit throbbing as he tentatively drug his fingers through her folds, spreading the evidence of her arousal up to her aching bundle of nerves.
Inwardly, he worried a little about being out of practice - he hadn't done this since Milah, and that was a lot longer ago than it felt sometimes. The soft mewls that left her parted lips chased away his fleeting insecurities and he refocused on the beautiful angel spread wantonly before him - resolute in his determination to bring her the kind of earth-shattering pleasure she'd shown him just moments ago.
He bent down, bringing his lips to her, pressing gentle kisses all around her bare mound, circling closer and closer to his prize before settling there and rolling the flat of his tongue on her, eliciting a low groan from her throat as she squirmed under his attentions - all too much and not enough at the same time.
He started working his tongue in earnest, licking and sucking until she was breathlessly panting. His good hand found it's way to her clit, rubbing light circles as he continued tonguing her.
"Oh God, yes! Father Jones... Don't stop… I'm so close…"
Her eyes were screwed shut in concentration, chasing her release. He lifted his eyes, desperate to see her fall apart, all because of him. His efforts were rewarded as she crashed over that glorious edge, her eyes springing open to watch him continue to push her through it as her orgasm rolled through her.
He gave her just a moment to recover before leaning over and propping himself up on his elbow and looking up at her with pure contentment. That look should scare her, but she was too exhausted and sated to care.
"Perhaps it's time you start calling me Killian, lass."