Chapter 10

When Emma woke up to an empty bed again she felt the pang of disappointment, followed by a flush of embarrassment heating her cheeks as she recalled what happened the night before. She really didn't know that feeling such kind of pleasure was possible, and sudden tears pricked the back of her eyes with gratitude for her husband. The patience he was showing was incredible, and she could never thank him enough for taking it this slow with her.

She'd felt a surge of relief when he'd told her that they didn't need to do anything more. She didn't think she was ready yet to feel him lying down between her legs and enter her. Though she had to admit she was curious about exploring his body, wanted to know if she could give him pleasure by only touching his skin as much as he'd given her.

A smile was flickering over her lips while her maid was helping her get ready for the day, and she almost floated down the stairs, hoping she would find Killian still at breakfast.

He was; perusing some papers laying in front of him on the table. But he hardly greeted her, only a mumbled good morning without looking up, and part of the lightness she'd felt since waking up deflated as she sat down and waited for her plate to be filled and a steaming cup of tea put in front of her.

Killian didn't say anything else to her, his eyes cast down towards the papers the whole time, and after she'd forced a few forks of egg down her throat he stood up and excused himself, rushing out of the room without making eye contact, and the swallowed egg formed a hard ball in her stomach as she looked after him.

She'd been so happy about taking this next step, about finally being able to let Killian touch her without the shadows of her past forcing her to shrink back. But apparently he didn't feel the same way, and Emma gulped hard, denying the tears gathering in her eyes to fall.

Killian was scolding himself as he walked towards the stables; he couldn't even look her in the eyes at the breakfast table, the secret he was keeping weighing heavy on his shoulders. He could still recall her scent, and had to stop himself to lift his hand to his face. He bloody well knew he couldn't smell her on his fingers anymore, but God did he want to smell her again. But considering what he needed to tell her he might never be allowed to touch her again, and thinking about never being able to be near her again in that intimate way made him want to put his fist through the stable wall.

"You're a bloody fool," Killian mumbled under his breath as he stomped into the stables.

"Can't contradict you on that one," David replied, coming out of a stall at the back. "Woman trouble?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Killian snapped, almost kicking a bucket of water, but holding himself back at the last moment. There was no need to agitate the horses, they were not the reason he was a fool after all.

"But maybe you should talk about it with her?"

"With whom?" Killian asked, even though he knew that David was well aware that there was only one woman who could make him lose his mind like that.

"The woman who is giving you the trouble," David clarified, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It has nothing to do with her." Killian rubbed a tired hand over his face; he'd hardly slept last night. But David was looking at him with a knowing expression on his face, and he admitted begrudgingly, "Well, not directly."

"You want me to saddle Devil for you?"

"Aye, that would be great. Thank you, David."

Galloping over the fields on Devil's back was helping clear out his head. He pushed Devil to his limits, the stallion loving the hard ride as much as Killian did obviously, since the stallion let out a loud whinny and shook his head when Killian stopped him on the hill overlooking the valley. He could hardly make out the mansion, but he could see its roof over the trees, and as he looked out over the acres of land belonging to him, the brisk wind ruffling his hair, he made the decision to stop being a coward.

He would tell her everything tonight.

Emma was standing in the hall, a few feet away from the library, and stared at the closed door, contemplating if she should just go to bed alone. Killian had hardly spoken to her at dinner and had closed himself into the library afterwards. She should go to him and talk to him, but she didn't feel ready to do so. If everything would get back to the way it was before she let him touch her she needed some time to prepare herself.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe she could face him tomorrow.

But before she could turn around and walk up the stairs to their bedchamber the door of the library opened and Killian stepped out. He seemed slightly startled by finding her in the hall, but recovered almost instantly and waved his hand towards the room.

"I need to have a word with you, Emma." Her heart plummeted into her stomach as she stepped into the room, and her hands started to tremble as she heard him close the door. She couldn't look up, a lump forming in her throat as she saw him walking towards the settee out of the corner of her eyes. She knew it, she did something wrong, and now he would tell her that he didn't want to touch her ever again, or that he wanted to end their marriage, or that ... "It's about Neal. And Milah."

Her eyes snapped up to his, her mouth dropping open in surprise. She definitely didn't expect that, and the first question that popped up in her brain just spilled over her lips. "Who is Milah?"

He jerked slightly, a blush rising to his cheeks and his hand lifted to scratch behind his ear as he shifted on his feet. "Aehm, my former mistress."

Emma was completely confused now, didn't know what Neal had to do with Killian's mistress, but alone the mention of Neal let her stomach tighten into a hard knot, and her hands balled reflexively into fists.

"Maybe you should sit down," Killian said softly, gesturing to the settee.

Emma was surprised that she managed to get to the settee and sit down without her knees giving out under her. Pressing her balled hands hard into her thighs, she closed her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath and facing Killian. "What about them?"

He was watching her with a worried expression on his face, signs of an inner struggle flickering over his eyes, but before he could tell her it was nothing she forced herself to open one hand and reach for his, clasping his fingers in hers as she said firmly, "Tell me."

He looked down at their entwined hands for a moment, then he gulped hard and met her gaze again, and she braced herself as well as she could for whatever he was about to tell her.

"I asked a friend to find out anything there is to know about Neal, and after I've met him in person and broken his nose … I just think his pride won't allow him to back out without a fight. I just wanted to make sure his blow doesn't come out of nowhere. I want to be prepared."

Emma didn't know if she wanted to hit him for making inquiries about Neal without telling her, or hug him for being so incredible sweet. Since she couldn't make up her mind, she asked him a question, telling herself she needed to know everything first before she could decide which feeling would win out in the end. "Where does Milah fit into the picture?"

He inhaled a deep breath, but didn't avert his eyes as he answered her, "I found out that she is Neal's mother?"

"She is what?" Emma shouted, her nails digging into Killian's skin, but he didn't even flinch, and she forced herself to loosen her grip before she said in a much quieter tone, "Your mistress is Neal's mother?"

"Former mistress," Killian said firmly, and his correction made her heart skip a beat with joy. "But yes, she is his mother."

"I don't understand."

So Killian told her everything he knew and everything about the steps he'd taken to ensure their safety, and the more he told her the more the urge to hug him drowned out the urge to hit him. Neal was a very proud man, and Killian was probably right; he wouldn't just slink away into the shadows and give up, he would fight, and they needed to be prepared. When Killian finished his accounts she was just left with a feeling of gratitude towards her considerate husband. She should have thought of it on her own, but she didn't. Thanks to Killian they would immediately know if Neal made a move.

Emma did feel grateful, but she also remembered the anguish she'd felt all day thinking Killian didn't want her anymore, and she averted her gaze to her lap, whispering under her breath, "I thought you wanted to talk to me about last night, wanted to tell me that you didn't want to touch me anymore." His fingers tightened around hers and she looked up. "I thought I did something wrong."

"No, Lord no. You were magnificent, love. Truly magnificent," he assured her. "God, I'm sorry. You thought I was disappointed about last night?"

"You were just so brusque at breakfast and I thought ..."

"It had nothing to do with last night, love. It was only due to the secret I was keeping, and the knowledge that I have to tell you the truth." He looked at her sheepishly, and shrugged one shoulder. "And I was afraid you would push me away after hearing it."

"I need to admit that I feel slightly hurt that you didn't confess it to me sooner, but I understand why you did it in the first place." He seemed surprised that she accepted it so easily, but also relieved, and she almost leaned forward to wrap her arms around him, but instead she lifted one hand to cup his face, and said softly, "You just want to protect Henry and me."

"Aye," he replied, tilting his head to lean into her touch. His eyes closed for a moment, and when he opened them again they were shining bright with a determined fierceness. "He'll never come anywhere close to you ever again."

The lump in her throat grew as she looked at him and her heart melted under his gaze. Staring into his blue eyes, Emma realized that if she'd ever be able to love someone it'd be the man sitting beside her right now.

"Since it seems to be the hour of confession … I have one of my own," she whispered, letting her hand drop down, knowing that she had to be as honest with him as he'd been with her. "You know that Neal has forced himself on me. What you don't know ..." She took a deep breath, and he pulled her closer, reaching for her other hand, his silent support making it easier to say the next words, "I could have been pregnant with his child when I proposed marriage to you, and I know I should have probably told you that, but I didn't know you. I didn't know what you would do, and I needed you to marry me," she admitted, looking over his shoulder, not able to look him in the eyes. "I'm sorry for not telling you about it, Killian."

"Yours was a dire situation." He lifted their entwined hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on her knuckles, lingering there until she met his eyes again. "You were desperate. I can understand that."

"You're not angry?"

"No," he said, a smile playing over his lips, his fingers squeezing hers reassuringly when he continued in a calm voice, "I'm well aware that you wouldn't have been able to know who the father is if we've had consummated our marriage and you've gotten with child. But I hope you would have told me nonetheless … since you know me now."

"I would have."

Killian pulled her into his arms then, and she snuggled into him, letting her brain try to process all the things he'd told her, but she just felt too content in his arms, too tired to keep thinking about all the things Neal might do.

The crackling of the fire was the only sound for quite some time until Killian shifted and pushed her back gently, his fingers ghosting over her cheek as he brushed a strand of her hair back.

"So … since we've got these particular weights off our shoulders … would you let me accompany you to our bedchamber?"

Emma felt a jolt run through her body, wondering if the slow burning heat she thought she was seeing in his eyes was a silent promise that he would touch her again like he had the night before.

She felt his hand at the small of her back burning through her dress as they walked up the stairs to their bedchamber, and her body started to tingle with the heat that spread from his hand through her whole body. But when he helped her out of her dress a chill went down her spine; their conversation in the library had brought back the memories about Neal that she'd thought she'd begun to bury by sharing that night of pleasure with Killian. But now he was back again, in the forefront of her brain, though she wasn't willing to let him take root there again.

She reached for her shift with determination, starting to pull it up her body, but Killian's hand on her arm stopped her, his voice soft as he said, "Emma, we don't have to ..."

"I want to. I want you to touch me, Killian." She laid her hand over his, leaning against him. "Like last night?"

He hesitated only for a brief moment, his lips brushing over her forehead as he murmured, "As you wish, love."

Killian led her to the bed before lifting the shift over her head and helping her on the mattress. He undressed slowly, but leaving his drawers on, like last night, his obvious arousal making her body hum with anticipation as he joined her.

He started by kissing her tenderly, a kiss that she felt in every fiber of her body, and then he kissed a path down her throat, his fingers playing over her skin the whole time. With every brush of his lips and fingers she relaxed more, and when his mouth found her nipple and suckled at it softly she didn't think anymore but only let herself feel.

She closed her eyes, soaking in all the sensations he elicited in her with his mouth and hands, but she took in a startled breath as she felt him push her legs gently apart, and her eyes snapped open to see him lying down between her legs, with his head between her thighs, his eyes dark in the light of the candles as he looked up at her, and rasped, "I wanted to taste you for so long."

"What … what are you doing?" she whispered, not sure what he wanted to do next.

"Kissing you," he replied with a cheeky grin, tilting his head to brush his lips over her skin before he leaned closer, his mouth hovering inches over her core.

"Down there?" She didn't know that you could be kissed there.

"Do you trust me, Emma?"

"Yes," she replied without hesitating. "I do."

"Then lean back and enjoy."

A gasp slipped over her lips when the bristles of his beard skimmed over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and her hips jerked upwards on their own accord when his lips brushed over her most intimate part. Embarrassment was washing over her and she closed her eyes again, but a part of her was already trembling with anticipation. She held on to that part, and tried to relax, concentrating all her senses on the movement of his mouth between her legs.

But her eyes snapped open and she let out a startled shriek as his tongue slipped through her folds, and she buried her fingers in his hair to stop him. He obliged immediately, looking up at her with eyes hooded with lust. She thought he was doing it only for her, but one look in his eyes showed her that he enjoyed kissing her down there, and her fingers loosened their tight grip on his hair.

"You don't like it?" he asked softly.

"I … I don't know. It's ..." She looked down at him, wondering why she didn't feel more embarrassed about the fact that he was lying with his head between her legs, but he apparently wanted to be there, and she asked with a barely audible voice, "Do you like it?"

"Very much. You taste marvelous." He leaned forward and let his tongue flick against the point he'd touched the night before, the point that made her whole body quiver. "Take my hand."

She grasped his hand then, tightening her grip as he started to tease her sensitive spot with his tongue again. She didn't think it possible that he could give her even greater pleasure than he already had, but his tongue was doing wicked things to her, flicking over the sensitive spot and then he slipped lower and teased her entrance, licking over and around it, and she let out a moan when he let it glide into her, carefully at first.

But she needed more and she reached for his head with her other hand, fearing he would leave her if she didn't hold him there. He groaned against her folds, the sound shooting sparks through her whole body and then he started to move his tongue, pushing it in and out of her while his fingers found her sensitive spot again, and moments later she exploded into a million pieces, wave after wave crashing down on her, his mouth staying on her until the last shivers had subsided.

It took her a while until she was aware of her surroundings again, and she turned on her side, opening her eyes slowly to look at him. He was smiling at her, his hand skimming over her arm as she scooted closer. He didn't say anything, just wrapped his arm around her, and Emma wasn't able to say anything either. But when she tilted her head she saw the fabric of his drawers straining over the bulge in his pants, and she wondered if it hurt, because it definitely looked like it might pain him.

"Can I … I want to give you pleasure, too?" she whispered against his skin, pushing back to look down at him.

"You think you're ready for me to …" he trailed off, his fingers ghosting over her shoulder and down her chest, stopping before he reached her nipple. "For the consummation of our marriage?"

"No, not yet, but … you were giving me pleasure without ..." Emma was searching for the right words, struggling with explaining it without describing the actual act, "Isn't there a way for men to reach completion without needing to ..."

"There is," he murmured, his fingers skimming over her cheek. "I can use my hand."

"Can I … can you show me how?"

He eyed her with some scrutiny for a few moments before he reached for his drawers and her heart skipped a beat when he pushed them down and his arousal sprang out. It was thick and long, and for a brief moment her chest constricted with fear as she imagined it being shoved inside of her. But Killian sensed her unease and pulled her chin up, and the moment she looked into his eyes all her fear evaporated, being replaced by a sense of curiosity as she let her gaze drift down to his arousal again.

"What do I have to do?"

"Curl your hand around it," he said, and she did. "Aye, just like that. A little tighter."

"What now?"

"See the droplet on the tip?" Killian asked, sounding breathless as he explained, "Gather it with the palm of your hand."

Emma let her hand glide upwards and rubbed it over the tip, feeling the palm of her hand getting slightly slippery, and she exclaimed, "Oh, it's like greasing a wheel?"

"Something like that, aye," he replied with a chuckle, letting out a moan when she let her hand slip down his shaft again, and his head dropped back onto the pillow, his voice a hoarse rasp as he said, "Just pump your hand up and down."

She obeyed, relishing in feeling the silken skin under her fingers. "Like this?"

"Aye, exactly like this."

It felt exhilarating to have him in her hand like this, and she watched him closely, letting his body language guide her, and his hoarse voice was murmuring now and again, telling her if something felt uncomfortable for him. But it didn't take her long until she knew exactly how to move her hand to elicit these deep groans out of him, and she felt herself getting aroused by giving him pleasure, suddenly realizing why he liked putting his mouth on her core.

"Faster," Killian hissed through clenched teeth, and she quickened the movement of her hand, watching him with a fascination she'd never felt before. His eyes were screwed shut and he was panting heavily, his hands were clenching the sheet between his fingers, and groans spilled over his lips every few seconds.

Emma tightened her hand a little more around him, feeling a surge of pride sweeping through her as his back arched from the mattress and his eyes snapped open. The color of his eyes was a stormy gray by now, and she couldn't look away as she pumped her hand up and down, knowing instinctively that he was close to finding release, and a few pumps later a guttural growl rumbled out of his chest and his hips jerked up into her hand, spurts of semen shooting out of him and onto his stomach. She didn't still her hand until he was totally spent, just staring down at him, feelings of wonder and awe blooming inside of her.

Killian's chest was heaving with ragged breaths, a fine sheen of sweat was covering his face and chest, and Emma loosened her grip around his slackening cock, not feeling in the slightest disgusted by his sticky seed covering her fingers.

She did that to him, she devastated him like this, and she felt glorious, powerful.

"Did I do it right?" Emma asked when he opened his eyes, though judging from the amount of groans she elicited out of him she didn't think she was doing anything wrong.

"You're a natural, love," he replied with a hoarse voice, a smile flickering over his mouth as he lifted his hand and brushed his thumb over her lips.

She wanted to snuggle into his embrace, but first they needed to clean up and Killian was apparently of the same mind, asking her softly, "Would you mind getting a towel for me?" He gestured towards the liquid covering his stomach. "I don't want to spread this all over."

Emma climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom, washing her hands briefly before dipping one end of a towel in the water of the basin and wringing it out before bringing it back to her husband. He cleaned himself up with swift movements and the towel landed on the floor with a dull thud, his arms reaching for her and pulling her against his chest.

Emma nestled against him and closed her eyes, feeling Killian shift under her as he blew out the candles and pulled the blanket over their bodies. She relaxed against him, splaying her fingers out over his stomach, and a jolt snapped through her body as the tips of her fingers brushed against his length. For a moment she contemplated curling her hand around him to find out if she could devastate him again, but his hand closed around hers and stopped her, his chest vibrating under her ear as he chuckled lowly.

"One step at a time, love. One step at a time."