Thank you very much for your support to this story and your theories about who the mysterious follower was! My personal favorite was Smee! :P
And as usual, all the love to Jess and Sandra :)
Chapter 19 – The Great Escape
You don't know if it's fear or desire
Danger the drug that takes you higher
Head in heaven, fingers in the mire
Her heart is racing, you can't keep up
The night is bleeding like a cut
Between the horses of love and lust
We are trampled underfoot
So cruel, U2
Killian noticed something wrong with his apartment door the moment he walked into his corridor. Someone had picked his lock. He reached for the door and in a swift motion opened it, reaching immediately for his gun behind his waist and entering his apartment.
He almost chocked at the sight of Emma standing in the middle of his living room.
"What the bloody hell, Swan!? I could have shot you!" He shouted in absolute rage as he lowered his gun and put in on a side table.
"So… how was your date?" She asked nonchalantly.
"My date? You broke into my apartment to ask about my date?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He took a few deep breaths to calm down.
"Did she take care of your needs?" Emma continued with her interrogation scornfully.
He cocked an eyebrow at her, "My needs?" He could sense she was up to something and he decided to go along with it. If she wanted to play with fire, he'd make sure she'd burn. She might be the love of his bloody life, but he had three hundred years of experience over her at playing games. He would not be bested by her. Not in this.
He smirked at her, "Oh yes, I'm quite sated, Swan." He swayed his hips almost imperceptibly, biting his lower lip and looking at her with a daring expression.
"You are lying" She stated, her green eyes burning with fire.
"Is that so?" He whispered as he saw her approaching him, her eyes never leaving his. "And how would you know? Is that your superpower talking to you again, love?" He stressed the last work, his tongue playing wickedly against his teeth.
"Yes." She replied but he saw her eyes flicker for just a second. Open book, Swan.
"And who's lying now, darling?" He said cockily and he tilted his head, giving her a devilish look, "Did you follow me around, Swan?"
She was facing him now and he could see it in her eyes: Passion. Rage. Lust. She looked at him and he almost caved with how much he truly wanted her at that moment.
"What if I did?" She lifted her chin defiantly.
He looked at her triumphantly, "Are you jealous, Swan?"
"Of that? Her? Please…" She scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking positively insulted. She meant to move away but he caught her wrist, bringing her closer to him, his eyes leveling with hers. She could see the thrill in his look.
"Then tell me, why are you here?" He whispered to her, his voice low and lustful.
"Because I know you, pirate." She stretched the last word almost as an insult. He didn't even flinch. "You can play games all you want, Hook. You can get a new life, a new job, a new date. You can even pretend you wanted to kiss her at the end of the night, you might even mean it." She looked at him, eyes as cold as the winter, there were no tender emotions, there were no deep feelings. This was anger, contempt, lust.
"I feel there is an objection coming in your statement, Swan." He replied cockily, his devilish smirk plastered in his face, his mask as up as her walls.
"You're still a pirate; and a pirate always covets a treasure." She raised her hand and started running it through his chest, her fingers dancing on his shirt, the ghost of a caress. "Something they desperately want and they would do anything to get their hands on, to claim, to possess." Her fingers ghosted over his chest, playing with the charms on his necklace. He inhaled deeply and she smirked with the known satisfaction of the effect she had on him.
"You seem to know the nature of a pirate very well, Swan." He whispered as his hand move from her wrist to play with a lock of her hair, his finger almost touching her long neck. It was her turn to shiver now… and he enjoyed every elated second of it. "But I fail to see what this has to do with my dalliance tonight."
"Because you and I both know," She whispered into his chest, as her fingers moved to his left shoulder, "The only treasure you've coveted for a while, is me." She lifted her face and looked at him, her fingers pressed lightly where his swan tattoo was, a triumphant smirk on her face.
He looked at her, desire pooling in his eyes and she got even closer to him, step by step, forcing him backwards, cornering him against the wall. And then she spoke again, her voice a velvety whisper.
"Let's face it, Hook, the only one you want to take, to possess, is me." She rolled the last word out of her mouth, her tongue swirling almost lasciviously at him.
"Full of yourself, aren't you, Swan?" He cocked an eyebrow at her, his blue eyes challenging her to continue.
"Look me in the eye and tell me it wasn't me you were thinking of when you kissed her." She whispered looking at him, her breath hovering on his face, his neck. "Any of them. All of the girls you took to your bed these years, tell me it wasn't me who you desired in your bed."
He grabbed her suddenly, his arm circling her waist, pulling her to him. He swirled them around, capturing her against the wall, his body fully pressed against hers. She gasped at the change in the scenario and he welcomed the feeling of his body against hers.
"Two can play this game, love." He said as he looked at her with an intense gaze. "Tell me you haven't thought about it all those nights alone, or even with the random strangers you might have picked for the night," He whispered in her face, his lips hovering over hers, making her dizzy with lust, "Tell me it was not me you thought of, you fantasized with." He ran his hand up her thigh and rested it on her hip, grabbing it and pushing her hips against his, his lips moving to speak in her ear, "Of my hand and my lips all over you. Of me taking you and making you tremble in my arms. Of me making you come over and over again." He felt her whimper and shake against him and it drove him insane with desire. But he kept control of himself, he looked at her and his eyes were as black as the night, "Tonight, when you saw me kissing her, tell me you didn't wish it was you."
"Killian…" She pleaded in a ghosted whisper, her eyes looking at him with a surrendered desire.
"Tell me." He commanded.
"I wish it was me…" She conceded finally, her eyes flickering to his lips.
"As you wish, love." He said as he crushed his lips into hers, his fingers intertwining in her hair and pulling her closer to him, deepening the kiss. He heard her moan and his chest growled in satisfaction. He broke the kiss and trailed his mouth to her jawline, her throat, her neck, her collarbone. His hand caressed her thigh again and he lifted her leg, locking it to his waist. She moaned again and ground her hips against his, seeking the friction and he groaned at the feeling. He rested his forehead on her shoulder, taking a moment to catch his breath. He needed to know, he needed to be sure.
He lifted his head and looked directly at her, finding the same desire in her eyes that was consuming him.
"Are you sure, Emma? Are you absolutely sure?" He asked in a lustful, shaky voice, his eyes boring into hers.
"Yes," She replied looking straight at him.
He pulled away from her, "Bedroom." He said breathlessly as he took her hand and walked with her towards his bedroom. "I won't take you against the wall like a commoner. This might be only lust, Swan, but it's still you." He said as he turned around and pounced into her with such passion that almost knocked her off her feet.
They stumbled towards the bedroom, their shirts quickly discarded. Her hands rubbed against his chest and stomach, feeling his toned muscles underneath her fingertips. It sent shivers down her spine and it made him want her even more.
He pulled away hesitantly for a second, his eyes going to his prosthetic hand, pondering what to do. She seemed to catch his hesitation and smiled at him, slowly caressing his arm. "It's fine either way…" She whispered as her hand ran over his bicep. He breathed deeply, stepping back to remove his brace and hand from his forearm and put them on his bedside table. He looked at her and his vulnerability shattered her. She slowly approached him again, and bent down to kiss his forearm, his bicep, his shoulder, stopping to lay one final kiss next to his swan tattoo.
When she looked at him, there were words to describe the feelings in his eyes. "Come here…" He whispered before kissing her again slowly, savoring each moment of her lips moving against his. When they deepened the kiss, passion overtook them again. Soon their remaining clothes were discarded and he directed them to the bed, playfully tossing her on it and laying on top, his body pressed against hers.
A thought ran through her head as he started to attack her neck. "Wait…" She whispered breathlessly and he stopped to look at her. "I – we need pro-" She started but he cut her off smirking.
"Top drawer." He said breathlessly and she looked at him. He smiled softly, "I wasn't celibate these three years, Swan." She looked between shocked and regretful and he whispered against her lips. "And neither were you, so don't act so shocked."
He gave her a long, searing kiss before pulling away and looking at her, his eyes full with desire, "I'm going to need a hand with those, love." He smirked at her, and she could see a hint of embarrassment in his eyes.
"I'll take care of it…" She whispered in a lascivious tone and he could feel himself needing her even more.
It was like climbing that beanstalk again. It was him bandaging her hand and tying the scarf with his mouth. It was her leaving him chained to the top of that beanstalk. It was all the times she walked away from him. And the times he took revenge on that.
They'd claim it wasn't love. It was need, desperation. It was raw passion, their lust for each other burning them to the very core. It was a game on who bested whom more times, as they always did. It was his desire to finally move on and leave her behind. It was her determination not to be forgotten. It was his need to have her, as he'd possessed every single treasure he had coveted. It was her need to claim him, to brand him as hers so he could never be claimed by anyone. After they collapsed into each other, he pulled her tighter to him, his arm claiming her as his, only his, his nose buried in her hair, nuzzling her neck. She snuggled closer, letting herself be claimed by him, pleased on the satisfaction that he was still hers, only hers. And that is how they fell asleep, in each other's arms.
It wasn't clear who woke up first in the middle of the night, who reached out for the first tender kiss, who replied with a soft kiss of its own. But soon his hand was everywhere, caressing her softly, covering her with lingering kisses, holding her close to him. She replied with soft kisses of her own, her hands exploring every scar, every mark, and every part of his body. They rocked gently, pressed to each other, close to each other, almost in silence, running deep on their emotions. She could still feel it, his devotion, that devotion he only had for her. And it broke her apart.
When he pulled her to him one more time and nested her to sleep, she finally allowed herself to hope.
When he felt her nested against him, he allowed himself to elate on the feeling, knowing it wouldn't last. She'd be gone before morning, running away like she always did. And he wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of this. He wouldn't have to ponder what this meant, or if he even wanted it to mean something. He wouldn't have to think on how this jeopardized everything he'd worked so hard to achieve in the past three years.
Because she'd run away from this, she'd put her walls back up and pretend it never happened.
And for once, he was counting on it.