Chapter 11

Killian woke up before Emma, knowing he needed to start the day early. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Emma up, and put on his drawers, stockings, breeches and shirt before coming back to the bed again and sitting down beside her.

She was sleeping peacefully and he didn't want to wake her, but he remembered how she'd taken his absence the day before, and he wouldn't leave her without a word today, so he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, letting his fingers ghost over her hair and cheek until she stirred and opened her eyes slowly.

"Good morning, beautiful."

She was breathtakingly beautiful so early in the morning, her eyes were still hooded with sleep and seemed to be a deeper green than usual, and a becoming blush crept over her cheeks as she realized that she was completely naked under the sheets while he was already dressed for the day.

"Good morning," she whispered, pulling the sheet under her chin to cover as much of her body as possible.

He was tempted to kiss her until she melted under him, to draw the sheet away from her perfect body and cherish every inch of her skin, to put his mouth on her and bring her pleasure until she screamed his name. But duty called, no matter how much he wished to spend the whole day in bed with his wife.

"I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed last night." The blush deepened on her cheeks, and his cock jerked in his breeches as her eyes flickered to his midsection, making it even more difficult for him to leave her, but he was expected in the village. "I need to leave now, though. Ducal obligations. I just didn't want to leave you with any doubts."

Her mouth curled up into a smile, her hand appearing from under the sheet to squeeze his fingers. "Thank you for waking me, Killian."

"You're welcome." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it briefly before standing up reluctantly. "See you later, milady."

The day had been long and exhausting, and Killian was glad to be back home. He descended Devil with a groan, his back was aching from sitting all day on a hard bench in the tavern, his head buzzing with all the details his tenants had brought to his attention.

He wished he could leave Devil to the stable boy, but he knew that the boy had his free day today, and he'd never considered himself too good to care for his horse on his own, so he cared for Devil as fast as possible. He just wanted to get into the house and warm up, wanted to see his wife and listen to the stories Henry would probably want to tell him.

Maybe he was too tired, or just too distracted as the stable door burst open and Henry rushed in, starting to talk loudly the moment he saw Killian. Devil wasn't fond of being so rudely disturbed in his evening meal and jerked his head, his hooves hitting the ground with annoyance. On a normal day nothing would have happened, but today Killian was a split second too slow and stumbled over a bucket as he jerked back to evade Devil's hooves. He tried to steady himself on the door of the stall but his hand scraped only over the wood, and he stepped unfortunately on the handle of the bucket in a strange angle and his ankle snapped to the side. A sharp pain shot along the bone, making him gasp and crumble to the ground.

"Bloody hell," he hissed under his breath, gritting his teeth as he shifted and another flash of pain sizzled up his leg.

"Killy?" Henry asked anxiously, crouching down beside him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Henry," he assured the lad, forcing a smile on his face to ease the boy's concerns. "Would you get David for me though? I think I might need his help to get back to the house."

Of course he refused to send for the doctor, but his wish wasn't respected in any way. Emma was bustling around him, merely raising an eyebrow when he started to complain, and he wasn't up to arguing with her at the moment, so he just laid his head back and closed his eyes as they propped his leg up on some cushions, only wincing when David pulled the boot off his foot before the swelling would make it impossible to be removed.

He chanced a glance when Emma pulled his stocking down, the sight not really encouraging. His ankle was already swollen to twice its size, and he tried to cheer himself up by announcing that it didn't look broken, hoping he might convince his wife that a doctor wasn't necessary after all, but Emma just rolled her eyes and turned around to confer with Mary Margaret about the treatment of his ankle.

Fortunately the doctor affirmed his statement, telling him that the ankle wasn't broken but badly strained. Killian didn't even manage a satisfied smirk, the poking fingers of the doctor had brought sweat to his forehead, and his jaw hurt from clenching it tight shut to keep himself from groaning out in pain. He gulped hard, and closed his eyes again, willing himself to ignore the pain which turned out to be a futile undertaking.

"I'll take good care of him."

Emma's voice drifted towards him, and Killian hoped the doctor had given her some instructions that might ease the pounding pain in his ankle, because it was hurting more and more as the seconds ticked by and he didn't know how long he could keep up the facade and pretend that it wasn't hurting like hell.

The settee dipped down beside him, and Killian turned his head slowly and opened his eyes, seeing Henry sitting beside him with a worried expression on his face. "Was this my fault, Killy?"

"No," he said firmly, forcing himself to focus on Henry and not the pain. "I wasn't really paying attention, and as I've taught you … you always need to pay attention when you're around horses, right?"

"Right," Henry replied, scooting closer to him, the movement jostling his leg and he clenched his teeth, not wanting Henry to see how much his ankle actually hurt.

"But next time don't rush into the stable," Killian said firmly. "And no shouting."

"I'm sorry, Killy. I'm sorry you're hurt."

"I know, Henry. It's only a sprained ankle though. Nothing major. I'll be up and about in no time."

"You want me to tell you a story?" Henry asked eagerly.

"Aye," Killian replied, smiling down at him. "That would be great."

Henry was chattering away happily, and Killian listened to the boy's ramblings attentively, grateful for everything that would draw his mind away from the pain.

He hadn't paid much attention to Emma since the doctor left, but as he looked up now he saw her shuffling around by the hearth and a moment later she walked over towards him, crouching down in front of him and putting a cold towel carefully over his ankle, a soft sigh slipping over his lips when the coolness brought some immediate relief.

Henry kept his mind occupied, telling him some wild story about a dragon, a hero with a legendary sword, and a princess that needed to be rescued, while Emma was changing the towel on his ankle whenever it became too warm, replacing it with an ice cold one that helped keeping the swelling down, though the skin around his ankle was already shimmering in a multitude of colors. But at least the pressure he'd felt was gone now, and as long as he didn't move the ankle the pain was bearable.

When the hero was about to kill the dragon Mary Margaret stepped into the room with a tea tray in one hand and a bucket of snow in the other hand, putting the bucket down beside the hearth to let it melt and the tray on the table beside the settee. She told them resolutely that she'd be serving dinner in about half an hour before rushing out of the room, and leaving it to Emma to pour each of them a cup of tea. Killian shot her a grateful smile when she added a splash of scotch to his cup when Henry wasn't looking, his fingers curling around the warm cup when she put it into his hand.

Mary Margaret came back a short time later, carrying a tray with cold meat and bread, a bottle of wine for Emma and himself, and a glass of lemonade for Henry. They enjoyed the simple meal, and afterwards Henry slumped against his shoulder, apparently worn out by the events of the day, falling asleep a few minutes later.

Emma swooped her son up into her arms, ignoring Killian's silent suggestion to call a servant to carry Henry up to his room. Closing his eyes, he wondered if he'd even be able to get up to their bedchamber later or if he had to spend the night down here. But when Emma stepped into the room all thoughts of later vanished out of his brain, and he just wanted to lean his head against her shoulder and feel her fingers thread through his hair.

"I brought us a book to read," she said softly as she sat down beside him. "Treasure Island."

He didn't want to be ungrateful, but he really wasn't feeling up to reading for her right now, and he was just about to tell her that when she opened the book on the first page and started to read.

She stumbled over every word at first, but the longer she was reading the more she relaxed, and even though she was reading with a very halting voice, he loved every second of it. She was reading aloud for him, putting her insecurities aside to make him feel better, and his throat closed up with emotions, his heart swelling with the love he felt for her, and if his ankle hadn't shot arrows of pain up his leg every few seconds he would have pulled her into his lap and kissed her senseless.

Two days later he was barking at everything and everyone, hating to lie around all the time. His ankle had approved considerably; he still couldn't put all his weight on it, but it had stopped pounding as long as he didn't move it too much. But the inactivity forced upon him wasn't helping his mood, especially since he wasn't able to take his relationship with Emma any further as long as he was hampered by his sprained ankle.

His problem walked into the room a moment later, only clad in her nightshift. The cool air of the room made her nipples pucker against the fine fabric, and the sight made his cock harden as she climbed into bed with him. He was about to pull the sheet over his body to hide his obvious arousal when her hand came to rest against his thigh, his cock twitching towards her fingers in answer.

"Do you think ..." she trailed off, her gaze wandering down his body, and her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth as her hand shifted on his thigh so that the tips of her fingers were brushing against his length.

"Don't do this?" he gritted out through clenched teeth, her eyes jumping to his, wide with surprise.

"Don't do what?" she asked, her hand moving higher, betraying the innocent tone of her voice as mockery.

"Don't bite your lip like that?" he growled, his fingers shaking with the urge to cup her breasts and knead them.

"Why?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side while her fingers played over his pounding cock. "You don't like it?"

"I like it too much."

"I see." Her hand tightened, cupping his arousal and squeezing it gently. "Can we do anything about it without upsetting your ankle?"

"You can always be on top," he told her, the words meant to be in jest, but a spark of excitement flickered over her eyes, almost making him groan out loud.

"On top?" she asked, biting her bottom lip again, and this time he let out a groan. "Can we try?"

He drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly to hold on to his control. He didn't want her to push herself too far too soon, and he lifted his hands to cradle her face, asking her softly, "Are you sure?"

"No," she replied, but she still drew back and reached for her shift, pulling it over her head and throwing it on the ground.

He didn't move, just looked at her, seeing her nipples pucker even more as her eyes lingered on the bulge in his drawers, and he feared he might combust before she'd even touched him.

"Emma?" He waited until she met his gaze before saying softly, "We don't have to ..."

"Yes," she said firmly. "We do."

Her fingers were trembling as she closed them around the hem of his drawers, and he balanced himself on his good ankle and pushed his hips up so that she could pull them down his legs. She didn't waste any time, probably not giving herself time to overthink it, before she straddled him, lowering herself down on his thighs, her hand reaching for his cock and closing around it to pump it slowly.

"Let me feel you," he breathed, and she only hesitated for a moment before letting go of his cock to slide further up his body, her core pressing against him, her heat making him draw in a sharp breath.

She grinded her hips hard against his cock, rubbing furiously over him until he laid his hand on her thigh to stop her frantic movements and her eyes snapped to his.

"Easy, love," he said softly, skimming his fingers over her skin until the frantic look in her eyes disappeared and sparks of lust flickered up again. "I'm not going anywhere. Take it as slow as you need to."

He didn't guide her, letting her find her way on her own. Her brows were furrowed in concentration as she moved atop of him, pressing her folds against his cock, shifting her hips so that his cock glided over her clit with every tilt of her hips.

Killian gritted his teeth again, praying to the Lord that he could hold out - at least until he was in her. She was moving tantalizingly slowly atop of him, her arousal starting to wet his cock, and finally she pulled away and reached between their bodies, closing her hand around him and guiding him to her entrance.

He watched her closely for any sign of discomfort or fear, ignoring the pounding of his cock for the moment to make sure she was all right. But she obviously was, her mouth opening on a sigh as she let his tip slip in.

The shallow downward thrusts of her hips almost made him come, with each thrust he slipped deeper into her, and she enveloped his cock so tight that he flexed his ankle on purpose, using the pain to keep himself from spilling his seed into her before he was even completely inside her.

She apparently registered the flicker of pain on his face and stopped her movements, her fingers caressing his chest as she looked at him with a slight frown between her eyes.

"Does your ankle hurt?" she asked, and he almost laughed out loud. Because everything hurt. His whole body hurt with a fierce ache, a longing to bury himself in her, to feel his cock slide in and out of her, to feel her heat surrounding him completely.

"I'm fine," he told her instead, letting his fingers skim over her breasts, his cock hardening even more as she let out a soft moan when he tugged at her nipple softly. She was a goddess, and he needed her to move. "Keep going."

"Am I doing it right?" Emma whispered, her voice a soft drawl, and then she pushed down again and he slipped back into her warm, tight sheath. His breath hitched in his throat as she pulled back again, and he thought his heart might stop as he looked up at her, mesmerized by her beauty. His cock twitched as a mischievous grin tilted up the corners of her mouth, and her next words made him flex his ankle again. "Should I continue?"

"Bloody hell," Killian growled, fisting his hands around the sheet to keep himself from grabbing her waist and holding her steady while he pounded into her, his whole body trembling as he fought to restrain the hot lust that coursed through his veins. He let out a guttural growl when she lowered herself on him again, taking him all the way in this time, and he couldn't keep himself from pleading, "Please don't stop."

"I won't."

Her movements were jerky, unexperienced, but it didn't matter what she was doing. He was so aroused that he needed to concentrate on not coming before she'd found her release. Her movements became erratic and her hands curled on his chest; her eyes were squeezed shut, her brows furrowed as she tried to find the right angle, her mouth opening on a frustrated groan when she apparently didn't succeed. She clearly needed to come, but could obviously not get there without his help.

"Wait a moment, love," he rasped, pushing up on his elbows and shifting to one side to free one of his hands to reach her clit.

"Come for me, Emma," he whispered, rubbing his thumb over her sensitive bud, feeling her inner walls squeezing his cock.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position, keeping his hand between their bodies while lowering his head to close his lips around her nipple, feeling his testicles drew up when she whimpered his name and jerked against him, being too far gone to actually lift her hips up and down. He felt close to bursting, being completely buried inside of her, and he wanted nothing more than to flip her around and plunge into her as deep as he could get, take her on a hard and fast ride. But he knew she wasn't ready for that yet, and he would never do anything that might frighten her, even if restraining himself might kill him.

"Come on, love," he rasped, flicking his tongue over her nipple while his thumb rubbed harder and faster over her clit. "I've got you."

Her nails dug into his skin, her hips rotating as he pushed her closer and closer, and then a groan slipped out of her mouth, her back arched as her climax hit her and her body started to quiver in his arms. Her walls clenching around his cock triggered his own climax, and he held her close, his face buried between her breasts, one arm wrapped tightly around her while, his fingers still pressed against her clit as he spilled his release into her.

His blood was rushing in his ears as he fell back on the mattress, taking Emma with him, his heart beating a frantic staccato in his chest as she collapsed atop of him. His ankle was pounding vehemently, pain shooting up his calf in the rhythm of his heartbeat, but he didn't care.

He tightened his arms around her as he felt her shifting, but when she stiffened he let his arms drop down immediately, and Emma pulled back, his cock slipping out of her slowly, his seed trickling down his length and onto his stomach. He didn't want to let her go, he wished he could stay buried inside of her forever, but he felt her retreat not only physically but mentally, too. She didn't look at him as she climbed off him, her gaze falling on his ankle.

"Your ankle?" she asked, still not meeting his eyes.

"It's fine."

He wanted to pull her chin up, needed to see her eyes to assure himself that she was all right. But before he could lift his hand she was already scrambling out of bed and disappeared in the bathroom, coming out with a towel moments later.

Killian reached for the towel and leaned forward to clean her first without thinking about it, but she didn't jerk away from his touch, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the blush rising on her cheeks when he brushed the towel tentatively over her folds. They'd just been a lot more intimate but she apparently felt embarrassed being cleaned up by him, and he turned his head away from her, taking care of the mess on his stomach, to give her some time to compose herself, and himself time to contemplate his next step.

When Killian turned to her again she was back in her shift, watching him closely, no trace of fear in her eyes and he relaxed. Reaching for his drawers, he pulled them on with some difficulty before blowing out the candles. The moment he laid down beside her Emma lifted his arm and scooted closer, pressing her body against his and burying her face in his chest.

"Are you all right, love?" he asked softly, letting his fingers trail up and down her spine. "It wasn't … it wasn't too soon?"

"No, it was ..." She shifted against him, her hand splaying out on his chest. Her lips brushed over his skin as she whispered, "It was perfect."

"Good," he replied softly. "I thought so, too."

Killian skimmed his lips over her forehead, hearing a soft sigh before she snuggled even closer. He waited for her breath to even out and her body to relax against his before he whispered into the darkness, "I love you, Emma."