frat boy charming

But these phones. He likes them. They allow you to have contact with people who are across the world, Emma insists, any time you want. They let you call a place that apparently will deliver food right to your door, anytime you’d like. And Emma has promised to show him something even better about phones tonight.

The phone rings a little bit after eight in the evening. Emma is gone on a trip to Boston for a weekend, and she wouldn’t let him come with her despite several lengthy attempts to convince her. Killian picks up, pressing the button like she taught him, ridding the screen of her name, and holds it up to his ear.

“Hi,” Emma says, and he can hear the smirk in her voice, which makes him wary.

“Hello, love,” he responds, leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on the desk in his cabin. “Great things, phones.”

“Indeed,” she laughs at him, and he finds that he doesn’t mind; would probably do almost anything to hear that sound again, if he’s honest with himself. “Wait until I show you what texting is.”

Killian’s eyebrows race for his hairline. “Texting. Is that what you are going to teach me tonight, sweetheart?”

“No.” There’s a pause, a shuffling on the other end like she is moving about, before her voice comes again. “Tonight we’re going to learn about phone sex.”

“Phone… sex.”

There’s that smirk again when she says, “Don’t sound so surprised. I thought you told me nothing about this world could surprise you anymore.”

“It seems I was deeply mistaken.”

She laughs again, but it’s low and husky this time, the kind of sound that goes straight to his dick. “All you have to do is talk… the rest is up to you and your imagination.”

Killian can feel the blood start to rush south, but he edges her forward just that much more. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

Emma starts speaking immediately. “I’m lying in bed in my hotel room. My panties are off and oh god, Killian, I wish you were here. I wish you were here so you could go down on me.”

He groans. It’s easy to picture her, sprawled out on top of the covers, long legs spread apart, blonde hair splayed across the pillow, open and dripping wet for him. Fuck.

“You would put my legs over your shoulders and tease me, just lightly, around my clit.”

Emma’s breath hitches and Killian can tell that she’s touching herself, just as she is describing. It’s enticing, it’s maddening, and his pants are verging on uncomfortable as he closes his eyes to savor the picture.

“It would be slow, so slow, and then you would fuck me with your fingers. Just one to start, and I’d grind up against you, beg you to go harder, add another finger, anything so that I can feel more. God, Killian, more. Please.”

She moans and the noise draws one out of him as well. He can still taste her on his tongue, tangy, delicious, just for him. Her breaths coming faster, her chest heaving, face flushed. His cock is straining against his pants now, and Killian desperately wishes he were there too.

“You would come up to kiss me, watch me as you fuck me. Another finger, yes just like that, grind your palm down against my clit, fuck, fuck.”

He wants to see her touch herself, wants to know exactly what her own words are doing to her, how she pleasures herself at the thought of him.

“You’d talk to me and your voice, god your voice, it’s so fucking sexy.”

She spurs him on, and he finds himself saying, “Gods, yes Emma you’re so beautiful.”

Emma keens, and he’s surprised the phone hasn’t snapped in his white-knuckled grip.

“Killian…”

“I’m going to tease you until you beg for it love, until you can’t think about anything else but my cock inside of you, how good it feels when I fuck you.”

“Yes, feels so good.”

“And when I finally do, I’m going to drag it out so you can feel every inch of me, so I can relish in how wet and tight you are because of me.”

She isn’t speaking anymore, but he hears the noises on the other end of the phone, and she must be thrusting up on her fingers, eyes shut tight, thinking about him and what he can do her to and fuck him but he feels like he might lose his mind.

“I want you to come for me, darling. Fuck yourself on your fingers and picture me instead, imagine it’s me. I want to hear you come.”

She does; harsh breaths and gasps his name out, and it’s been an extremely long time since Killian was worried me might come in his pants like a teenager.

There is silence for a few moments, Emma’s breathing coming back under control, and when she speaks again it’s low and warm, smile coming through the phone.

“For a first timer, I’d say you did pretty well.”

He leers, even though she can’t see it. “I am a fast learner.”

“When I get back, you had better be prepared for a long night in bed.”

“I’m counting on it.” Killian can’t wait to actually feel her arching body under his.

“How was it for you?”

He glances down at his dick, which is still rock hard and screaming for attention. “Well, considering that this phone thing of yours need to be held up to my ear and I only have one hand…”

She sucks in a breath, clearly trying not to laugh. “I totally forgot! So you were just sitting there the whole time, listening to me get off and not able to do anything yourself?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I wish I could explain speaker phone to you, but I think I need to be there and show you in person.”

Killian shakes his head, smiling despite himself. “Listening to you was a treat in itself, Emma. The miracles of these phones never cease.”

His words shoot straight to her stomach, something molten beginning to pool there. His voice is dark, deep, and she turns her head so that she can meet his eyes. The blue is nearly eclipsed by his pupils, dilated in unbridled lust. His fingers tighten around her wrist, and he pushes forward so that his whole body is flush with hers, head to toe.

She broke him last time they played this game. She cornered him in the morning when he emerged from the bathroom, shirtless, sweatpants slung low along his hips. Emma had forced him roughly back onto the bed and rode him viciously until he was practically shouting, voice ripped and raw with desire.

“Turnabout’s fair play, darling,” Killian says to her, as though he knows exactly what she’s thinking.

And she is fully aware it isn’t going to be easy this time, that there is no way he will let her win again after she so thoroughly trounced him last time, but that is not reason not to give it a solid try.

“Maybe this just means that I’m going to win twice in a row.”

Her own voice is husky, raw as though she’s already been whimpering and moaning for hours, and maybe she leans into just a little bit because she can see exactly what it does to him. His eyes flicker downwards to land on her lips, and he licks his own in response. God, she just wants to get her hands in that hair, see if she can tousle it even more.

Killian grinds up against her, and Emma can feel that he’s already hard, even through the material of her jeans and his leather. His hook comes up to pull her hair over her far shoulder so he can lean down and plant a searing kiss on the exposed skin by the base of her neck.

“I don’t think so, darling. You’ve quite a bit of mischief to make up for.”

He keeps eye contact with her, even as his lips trail along toward her shoulder, and Emma cranes her head impossibly to follow him with her gaze, goose bumps rising along the line of skin he traces, even as it feels like he is leaving a line of fire.

When Killian scrapes his teeth at the juncture of her neck and shoulder she bites her bottom lip and closes her eyes, but allows the shiver the wind its way down her spine, almost lazily. He chuckles before licking a wet stripe up the side of her neck and blowing cool air onto it.

Emma’s shiver is much more violent this time.

His fingers flex around his grip on her twisted arm. “You must be somewhat getting somewhat sore here. Let’s get you into a more comfortable position.“

He tugs her forward, and she has no chance to regain her balance before he is lifting her and depositing her less than gently on his desk. She doesn’t even register the change and he’s there again, spreading her legs wide and invading her personal space. His smell envelops her, worn leather and pure sea salt, and she leans into him. His hand is just barely brushing along down her arm, tapping out a rhythm down one thigh and back up the other one. Emma’s hands instinctively curl around the lapels of his coat, tugging him closer.

He gives no warning before his lips are on hers, demanding and harsh. With his hook and hand, he pulls her to the edge of the desk and rolls his hips against hers. Emma lets out a silent gasp, and he takes the opportunity to angle his head, kiss her more deeply.

She is clutching at him like a lifeline, like if she lets go she might fall off the face of the earth. It’s messy, teeth clacking, slick tongues and biting lips to the point that Emma thinks they’re brushing the line of bleeding. Killian continues to crush her to him, the tip of his hook insistent against the small of her back, reminding her to arch, reminding her he’s there.

Reminding her that he isn’t exactly tame.

His fingers wrap long strands of her blonde hair in his grip and then he’s pulling, harshly, so she is forced to tip her head back. She scrabbles for a better purchase in his clothing, bent backwards like a bow. Killian brushes his stubble along the sensitive skin of her neck before biting down, hard. There are going to be bruises later, but Emma has to fight down a groan at the feeling, the soothing flat of his tongue against the marks.

He lets go of her hair, but Emma gets the picture, staying with her head tilted to the side and back so that he can nip a path down to the neckline of her shirt. His hook is under the hem of her shirt now, the barest hint of pressure along her skin. She feels like ever nerve ending is on fire, her breath coming more unsteadily now, shallower. He seems completely in control, open mouthed kisses against her collarbone and ribs, in the hollow of her neck.

She doesn’t notice he has unbuttoned her jeans until he is urging her hips up so he can slide both them and her underwear down. She tries to kick them off her feet, around her shoes but Killian doesn’t give her the time, stepping back between her legs immediately and spreading them as wide as they will go with her clothes tangled around her ankles.

Emma knows just how wet she is right now, can smell herself practically dripping, and can see by his dark grin that Killian has noticed as well. He leans down and tugs at a nipple with his teeth over the fabric of her shirt and bra. When it hardens under his touch he gives the same attention to the other one. There are wet marks when he pulls away and drops to his knees in front of her.

His hand smooths up the inside of her thigh, passes over her center and slips back down the other one. He leans in, inhaling deeply, and Emma can see him lick his red, swollen lips. Her muscles are taut, singing with the need for him to touch her, to finally give her something, but she will not break. She will not lose.

He works two fingers inside of her, slowly, and she feels like she might shatter. It’s crazy how he can be on his knees before her and still be the one in control, looking up at her from under dark lashes, watching as her eyes flutter and she clenches down on his fingers.

Killian stands up then, twists his hand so he can curve his fingers upward, and pushes back against her. Her mouth drops open, a stilted gasp falling from her lips and he leans forward so their mouths are almost touching, but not quite.

“Shhh,” he whispers to her, pumping his fingers in and out of her. “I’d hoped you would be something more of a challenge.”

Then he’s kissing her again, languid and drawn out but with no less fire. He tugs at her bottom lip, running his tongue over the length of it, mumbling words into her mouth while he starts to circle her clit with his thumb.

“So wet for me Emma. Does it feel good, when I fuck you like this? Just my fingers, and you’re already trembling. Are you imagining it’s my cock? Are you thinking about how I’m going to fuck you until you can’t stay silent any longer?”

His words do delicious things to her body. Emma shudders against him, trying to keep eye contact as he adds another finger. His gaze bores into her, not leaving her face for a second, and when he crooks his fingers up, moving his hand in a rolling motion, her legs clamp tightly around his hips.

Her skin is flushed, hair tousled, and he keeps dragging his fingers over that spot within her that causes her to bite the inside of her cheek in an effort not to make any noise. In a quick motion he withdraws, leaving her feeling empty and dissatisfied, but the image of him licking and sucking his fingers clean does a good job of keeping her desire aflame.

Killian uses his hook to draw her pants off her legs the whole way, and Emma is allowed to kick off her shoes. She reaches for him again, but he dodges her hands and lifts her so that they can fall back into his chair together, her straddling his hips. He presses up against her core, and she can feel how hard he is, how everything he does to her makes him just want her more.

Her slickness coats the leather of his pants, but neither of them can find it in them to care, not when he is finally getting her shirt and bra off so he can touch the skin of her chest. Emma claws at his clothes in frustration, irritated that there is no new skin bared to her searching touch. Killian’s mouth closes around one of her nipples and her head falls back. His hand slips back down to her folds again, rubbing just around the entrance, spreading her wide but not entering her. He mouths against her breast, the sensitive underside and nuzzles into her. Emma presses him closer to her with her hands on the back of his head. He sucks on her nipple, worrying it between his teeth, and moves to show the other the same attention.

In one deft movement he flicks her clit with his fingers and Emma can’t help it, she really can’t anymore; a small “ah” escapes her before she can stop it, and Killian freezes, forehead pressed to the valley between her breasts, hand hovering just where she needs him to touch.

Before she can blink she’s flat on her back on his bed, thighs wide apart so that he can settle between them. He is resting his weight on his forearms, body covering hers, and there is no way she could miss the smirk on his face.

“I win,” he says to her.

Killian shucks his clothing faster than she could have imagined possible with only one hand, ending by twisting his hook off. Finally she gets to see all of him, the muscles bunching under his skin, the scars tracing his chest and shoulders, vivid white against his tanned skin, some of them raised and ragged. And his cock, god, red and straining and she really, really wants to get her mouth on it like, now.

There is no chance for that, because he settles himself between her legs once more, and she likes the view. The darkness in his features is still there, simmering, and leaks into his voice when he says, “Now that I’ve won, don’t feel like you need to hold back. I plan on you being very loud tonight.”

It’s a relief to have lost, in some ways. Despite her stubbornness and the wish to rise to the challenge, holding back all the sounds that he usually pulls from her without thought takes a lot of effort, and Emma likes to lose herself in the sensations, the feel of him.

Killian kisses the inside of her thigh and urges one of her legs up so that her knee is hooked over his shoulder. He delicately licks up her with just the tip of his tongue, but a moan falls from her lips anyway. She leans up so she can watch him. He opens his mouth wide against her and works her over like he’s kissing her, swiping his tongue this way and that quickly before settling down and actually fucking into her with his tongue.

His nose and lips must be covered now, and just the idea of it makes the muscles of Emma’s stomach clench. There’s a tingling spreading from where his mouth is on her out to her fingers and toes, and Emma is sure that it won’t be long before he’ll having her riding out her orgasm. It doesn’t help that Killian shows her just how much he loves this; his hums and moans vibrate into her flesh, arm pressed down across her hips so he can keep her still.

When her legs start to shake Killian comes up for air and sucks her clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bundles of nerves, back and forth, and Emma cries out because fuck she had already been so close when he used his fingers before.

Her orgasm is a wave that crashes down on her, and she can hear herself swearing as though from far away. She drops onto her back, hands going for his hair and tugging as she gets sensitive but he continues on relentlessly, grazing his teeth oh so lightly over her skin. It’s too much, too much and her volume rises so she is almost shouting.

“Shit, fuck Killian!”

It’s his name that causes him to stop, pulling away and allowing her to breathe again. Her chest is heaving, head spinning, and he looks incredible, chin covered in her juices. Emma’s eyes flutter shut and she sighs when he leans down to kiss her breast, leaving a trail of her own release along her chest.

Emma tries to get a hand around his cock, but he bats her away, grinning. “I don’t think so, love. I’m not done playing with you yet.”

When he positions himself so he is lined up against her, so close but not yet touching, her leg is brought up and pressed back, taut. Killian licks his lips once more to get the last of her taste and reaches down to press the head of his cock into her.

Emma keens, arching back off the bed and gripping what she can touch of him, his hips, the muscles in his arms, his chest. He chuckles, glancing down to watch as he sinks into her inch by inch. She’s so wet that he slips in with no resistance, but the stretch of him is still a jolt to her system.

“Fuck!” Killian groans, bottoming out. “You’re so tight, Emma. So hot.”

She shimmies her hips just the slightest bit, pulling an unexpected moan from him. His eyes dart back up to hers, and she grins, hint of flashing teeth. Killian withdraws smoothly, and pushes back in without hesitation, her leg stretching even farther with the motion.

“Oh god…” Emma clenches her eyes tightly. Her hands have fallen to fist in the sheets underneath her. “Fuck.”

She hears him move, but doesn’t realize his mouth is by her ear until he whispers, voice gravelly and full of promise, “I will.”

It’s the only warning she gets. Killian hitches her hips up so that he can thrust into her at an angle, and the slide of him against her just right has her thrashing her head from side to side, whimpering. He pistons his hips, keeping an even, calculated pace, and keeps up a long stream of filthy, dirty words of encouragement. Her body is wired, having just come, but she can feel it building again, his voice heightening the feel of his powerful thrusts.

“You fucking love this, don’t you? I can tell that you do; you make the most delicious sounds Emma. Every time I move just like this,” he thrusts up, hard, and she lets out a bitten-off moan. “you tell meexactly how much you like it.”

Their sweat slick bodies rub up against each other. Emma can feel her leg starting to burn with the strain, but she can’t bear the thought of stopping, of even trying to switch positions. She just needs to come, she needs to come soon, and if he draws this out anymore she might just shake into a million pieces.

She’s starting to flutter around him, and he knows the signs because he pushes the heel of his hand down into the skin just above her pubic bone, forcing the electric shocks of him hitting that perfect spot to intensify.

Emma is so ready, so wet, and she realizes that as he fucks her in earnest, slamming his hips into hers, making sure he times the press of his hand with his thrusts, that he’s going to get her off without even touching her clit. She’s panting “Killian, Killian, Killian,” over and over again like a prayer, and he speeds up, pace punishing.

It’s a sweet, slow burn that races up her spine and goes to her head. He’s fucking her into the mattress, almost bouncing with every thrust, and she can feel her toes curling, gasps and pants drawn from her with each movement of his hips. Killian growls, ragged, and she knows that he is close too, but if there’s one thing she has learned about him, it’s that he will make her come first, because he likes to watch her face while she falls apart.

He fills her perfectly, stretching her wide, and Emma locks eyes on him as soon as she feels the orgasm coming. His eyebrows are drawn down, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

His voice is low when he demands, “Emma. Come.”

She does, clenching around him and tumbling over the edge with a cry. It’s a rush of heat, and feels so good that Emma’s thoughts completely white out in her head. He fucks her through it, removing his hand from her stomach and bracing himself so that he can draw it out. It isn’t much later that he follows her, freezing in place before collapsing down on top of her. She rubs small circles on his back, still catching her breath, relishing in the boneless warmth of the afterglow.

He soon rolls over, pulling her back up to his chest and tucking his knees in behind hers. She pulls the blankets up over them and closes her eyes, listening to his heartbeat.

“I won,” Killian reiterates, but it’s softer now, with a smile pressed into the back of her neck.

“You did,” Emma agrees, “But next time, I’ll be the one who wins. I can make you loud too, you know.”

Emma pulls off of him when a wet pop, licking her lips and staring up at him from where she is kneeling over his body. His eyes are fixed on her, bright and half-lidded, pupils blown wide. He smiles at her, brushes her hair behind her ear and says, “So beautiful.”

It’s like a bolt of lightning zips through her bones. Emma swallows him back down, not stopping until her nose is brushing the hair at the base and he is hitting the back of her throat. He groans, the muscles in his abdomen jumping, and mumbles, “Gods, Emma, so beautiful with your mouth full of my cock, so good for me darling.” He resumes his soft, gentle motions in her hair.

She moans, closing her eyes and pulling back up, bracing one hand on his hip so that she can get better leverage and lean to the side a bit. Her free hand slips up to her breast, tweaking at her nipple for a moment before sliding down over her stomach to brush over her folds. She’s dripping wet.

When Emma resumes her work in earnest, she locks eyes with Killian who has shifted his position so he can see her better, gaze leaving trails of fire where he sets it, across her body and where she is burning most, between her legs. A lazy smile curls his lips and he takes his hand away from her hair so he can raise himself up onto his elbows.

“Go on, touch yourself for me love.”

She does so, sucking him in time with the movements of her fingers on her clit, dragging her wetness up so she can circle easily. On a sigh she hears Killian say, “You’re so wet Emma, so turned on when your perfect mouth is on my cock. I love seeing what I do to you.”

She’s shivering now, body humming with anticipation, with excitement as words drop from his lips like he physically can’t stop them. It’s easy for her to slip two fingers inside of herself, twisting her thumb so she can keep rubbing at her clit, pumping in when she takes Killian into her throat, and out as she moves back up.

“I can smell you, gods Emma I can practically taste you, so sweet and gorgeous and spread open for me. Fuck yourself on your fingers and pretend it’s me. Imagine what it’s going to be like when it’s me fucking you instead, such a perfect fit.”

Emma can’t stop the whimper that escapes around his cock, the vibration causing Killian’s head to drop forward, sucking in deep breaths with his open mouth. His lips are red from where he’s been biting them, a sheen of sweat beginning to appear on his skin, and still he’s mumbling words that set her nerves to tingling deliciously.

The pool of heat in her belly is starting to spread outwards, and she moves her hand faster, adding another finger and moving her hips so she’s fucking back on her own hand, flicking her clit in light, quick strokes with her thumb. She swirls her tongue around the head of his cock every time she reaches the tip, breath hot and moist on him when she pulls off to suck air into her lungs.

She feels light-headed, his touches in her hair rolling down her spine, his words feeding the flames in her blood.

“Emma, Emma, Emma, fuck Emma, I can’t wait to be inside of you. How do you want us to fit together tonight? I could be over you, fucking you soft and long with those amazing legs wrapped around my hips and my nose in your hair, breathing you in. Or you could ride me, darling, fuck yourself down onto me as hard as you’d like until you can’t take it any more.”

Her cheeks are burning, skin flushing red, and she can’t even take this any more. With one last solid lick she pulls up and takes her fingers away from herself, keening at the loss of friction on her body, barely managing to drag her mouth from his cock, but the idea of him inside of her, stretching her, filling her, spurs her on. She locks eyes with him and brings her fingers up to her mouth, sucking them clean. Killian closes his eyes and moans loudly.

He pulls her up toward him and plants a kiss on her forehead, a light touch of his lips that she’s sure leaves a mark because it sears her, and she thinks she might be falling to pieces when she lifts herself up, positioning him, and sinks down onto him fully.

They let out simultaneous sounds of pleasure, his hand coming to rest on her waist, Emma’s own hands gripping her thighs. He feels so much better than her fingers did, just like he said, the perfect fit. He’s rubbing up against her and Emma was so close before she thinks she could grind herself down onto him and be there.

When she starts moving so does his hand, skimming up and down on her skin, resting on her hip for a moment, guiding her movements, and then heading up to her breast where he kneads her. Emma leans into his touch, has to bite her lip to keep from crying out when he starts talking again.

“Just like that Emma, fuck yourself down onto me, there’s a good girl. Good girl, good girl, gods you’re so hot and wet and tight for me. Touch yourself for me again so prettily. I want to feel you come around me.”

She does almost automatically, fingers rubbing over her clit in sloppy circles, moving up and down on him. She can feel his cock inside of her, through her skin, and it makes her heart beat faster in her chest. She’s breathing out in pants, eyes fluttering even while she tries to keep her gaze fixed on his face.

Killian braces his feet on the bed and tilts his hips, thrusting up just so, and Emma cries out, not rubbing herself so much as putting pressure on her clit, meeting his movements with her own and relishing in the sound of skin on skin. Killian’s tongue darts out to wet his lips while his fingers trace indecipherable patterns on her ribs.

“Your body is so welcoming, so perfect for me. We’re perfect for each other. And you, you’re a vision Emma. So stunning. Intoxicating, exquisite, divine. Are you going to come for me Emma? Be a good girl, come for me, show me how you feel.”

That’s it for her. She tumbles over the edge, soaring high, and she stops bouncing on him. He takes up the task, thrusting into her hard, and she doesn’t come down, doesn’t come down, doesn’t come down. His voice, that voice dark as sin, smooth like silk, finds its way to her through a tunnel, whispering about radiance and how good she feels when she comes around him, like a vice, gods Emma, oh fuck Emma.

She collapses onto his chest, shaking. Her body throbs, still riding out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Killian’s arms are holding her close, hand in her hair again, combing through the tangles. It’s comforting as her body relaxes; she wants to melt into him.

She realizes that she didn’t even feel it when he came.

He shifts so that they’re on their sides, curling around her and pulling her tight against him like she could sink into him wholly. She doesn’t think she would mind that at all.

“Emma Swan, you have no idea how much I love you,” he murmurs into the back of her neck, planting chaste kisses on her skin.

Emma’s laugh is a bit breathless, her heart pounding a steady tattoo against her ribs. She turns to look at him, meeting that electric blue gaze, and says, “You deserved it, walking around with your shirt off all day, stretching when you knew I was looking at you.”

Killian’s grin is sharp like a dagger, and it makes heat blossom in her stomach. “I might remind you that you started this little game, Emma.”

She allows her eyelashes to flutter. “I have no idea that you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you?” He moves his knee higher, so that he is putting pressure against her through her clothes, and Emma closes her eyes, savors the feeling. “I seem to recall you waking me up this morning with a lovely surprise, and then rolling over and going back to sleep.”

His chest is flush with her back, his hips moving in little rocking motions against her ass, and Emma can feel his arousal growing already. She shivers, a lick of lazy warmth working its way down her spine.

“You were distracting. I wanted more sleep.”

Killian nuzzles his nose at her neck, just below her ear, and presses a kiss there before murmuring, “Perhaps it is my turn to distract you.”

His mouth lingers above the neckline of her shirt, dragging his teeth over her skin, flicking his tongue lightly out to taste her before planting soft, chaste kisses on the wetness he leaves behind. Emma leans her head against the window and focuses on the feeling of him molded against her body. He radiates heat, even through their clothes, and she can feel herself drowning in it.

When he bites gently, slowly, at the juncture where her neck and shoulder meets, Emma struggles to break his grip on her wrists so she can turn and face him, but he only tightens his hold and growls, “Don’t move.”

She stills at the command in his words, eyebrows drawing upwards at his tone. Killian waits a moment, but when he sees that she doesn’t attempt to move again, he starts his work on her skin once more. He breathes in her scent and exhales deeply, his breath washing across her cheek, and Emma licks her lips, her stomach jumping.

“Keep your wrists there, sweetheart, there’s a good girl.” Killian taps them lightly before releasing them. He drags his fingertips up her arm, across her collarbone and then down her side. When he reaches the hem of her shirt, his thumb plays over the muscles of her stomach and then he dips underneath.

It’s a slow path he traces back up, so it’s relief Emma feels when he finally reaches her breast. Killian kneads it in his hand, his knee keeping her legs spread, moving back and forth against her, and Emma bites her bottom lip, hips moving of their own accord down against him.

Killian groans while he plucks her nipple through her bra and circles his hips. “Gods Emma, you could make me come undone with just one touch.”

His words cause a flush in her cheeks that spreads down her body, and he grins as his eyes follow it. “I love the way you taste when you’re hot and panting and pink.”

That elicits a moan, and Emma is thankful for the cool of the window against her skin. Killian nips little marks into her skin, up her neck, and nibbles on her earlobe. She can’t help squirming, wanting more pressure, more friction, just more, but she won’t really move until he tells her she can, and she knows it.

Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to be in a teasing mood.

His fingers start dancing down toward her waistband. “All your little movements today, Emma, the sway of your hips, the slope of your neck. You’re a siren, darling, and I’ve bloody well fallen into your trap.”

Killian’s hand dives into her panties and he groans when his fingers meet wet heat. “I’ve wanted this all day. You’ve no idea what it took for me to walk away earlier. You were moaning and delicious against my mouth, and I forced myself to leave you because you started this game and I had to prove a point. But you’ve wanted this as badly as I have, haven’t you?”

Now Emma struggles a bit, but he won’t let her go, won’t let her turn so that she can runs her hands over his body. Her blush is hot on her cheeks and she says, “Here? At the window?”

Killian pushes her harder against the pane. “Why not?”

“Someone might see.”

“Let them watch. Let them see the pleasure you feel when I’m with you. Let them wish they could touch you as I am touching you. Let them wish that they could make you come the way I can.”

Her eyes invariably search the world outside. The light from the street lamps is softened by the darkness around it, but she has no doubt that if someone was looking, they would be able to see, to know exactly what is going on here. A thrill settles into her bones at the thought.

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, trying to balance herself, but the angle he has her at leaves her without a way to support herself, and it’s his body that is holding her up. She wills his hand lower, she needs him to touch her now, but he doesn’t move, just hovers above where she needs him.

“Now tell me; have you been thinking of this the way I have?”

“Yes,” she gasps, eyes snapping open to meet his dark ones. There is a flash of white, and his teeth sink into her flesh at the same time as he brushes his fingers against her, coating them in her wetness and pulling up so he can circle around her clit.

Emma’s knees buckle. He presses more insistently, his hips pinning her own, his erection easily felt now. Killian tucks his head over her shoulder, right next to hers, and she turns to kiss him, pouring all the movement she isn’t allowed elsewhere into the action.

He breaks away for just a moment to say, “Spread your legs wider for me now.”

She does so, and he plunges two fingers into her, forcing a cry from her mouth. He crooks them immediately and drags them slowly at first, in and out of her at an agonizing pace. Emma tries to grind down on his hand, but he pulls away, tsking lightly.

“You seemed rather eager to tease me all day, so I must admit I’m a little confused, Emma. What is it that you want?”

She’s annoyed by this, but irritation is a warm emotion and she is hot all over and she really needs his fingers inside of her again so she moans and says, “God Killian, fuck me already.”

He laughs, the pitch low and dark, and rolls the heel of his hand so that it catches her clit. His fingers find their way inside her once more, and it is only a few movements before adds a third, stretching her in the best way, fucking her quickly and making sure that he drags against her clit every time he twists his fingers.

Soon Emma is shaking in the cradle of his arms, body moving sinuously against him searching for more, more, more. His breath comes in pants against her ear, his cock pressed hard against her and fuck this feels so good.

She’s tightening, legs trembling with the effort of staying spread wide, and then his hand is gone, leaving her feeling horribly empty, and she braces her hands flat against the window, ready to turn and demand he continue because she was so damn close, when she hears the rustle of clothes falling to the floor.

Just like that he is against her again, wrenching her bottoms down and pressing his hand, wet fingers and all, against her back, forcing her to curve and put more weight into her hands. Killian’s forehead falls between her shoulder blades and he swears softly, holding her hips in place with his left arm and positioning himself with his right hand.

When he sinks into her, he bites her again, this time hard, and she knows that she is going to have a mark in a few hours. Her body resists for a moment, even after he stretched her with his fingers, but soon she accepts him and they’re both groaning. Emma’s head hangs on her shoulders, fingers curling against the glass of the window.

Killian pauses briefly inside of her, and mouths his words against her back. “You feel so good, you always feel so good Emma. So wet and warm and welcoming for me.” His tongue flickers out to the sweat on her skin. “I hope you’re ready to put on a show.”

It’s a swift, smooth movement when he pulls out and thrusts back in, and Emma can’t help the gasp that tumbles from her lips. His hand finds her hip, and he holds onto her as he moves, long thrusts that have her toes curling into the carpet. He doesn’t stop with his words either, branding them into her until she can feel them in her core, and they add more heat to the fire in her body.

“So beautiful; so perfect. I hope everyone can see you, and that they watch when you come around my cock.”

Emma moans, arching her back even more so that her breasts are pressed up against he window, and the idea that someone could be seeing this right now combines with the pull of him inside of her, the relentless dragging across that spot inside of her that Killian can find so easily. Emma lets a constant string of sounds escape her, loving the way his grip on her hip tightens and pulls her hips back against him when the sounds reach his ears.

He thrusts again and Emma almost doesn’t hear it when he gasps out, “Tell me how you’re feeling, Emma.”

She shakes her head, loving the feeling of her hair on her skin, and the slide of him inside of her, but he stops suddenly and she is forcibly pulled back into reality. She tries to roll her hips back against him, but he moves away from her when she tries to get closer. Killian’s hand slides up her body and underneath her shirt and bra, to play lightly with her nipple.

“Killian!”

“I want to hear you. How does it feel when I do this,” He thrusts up, hard, and she scrabbles for purchase somewhere, anywhere.

“God, you feel so good Killian. You—fuck—you’re so big. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please.”

He grunts, pulling his hand out from under her shirt to putting pressure on her back, making her spine curve even more, and Emma moans so loudly she is sure the neighbors can hear.

“Right there, fuck me, oh my god!”

Killian moves to circle his thumb around her clit, and Emma can feel herself flutter around his cock, breath catching in her lungs. She’s dizzy, the feel of him against her the only thing anchoring her to the ground. All she can focus on is him moving inside of her, his thumb against her clit and she’s slipping quickly.

“Fuck, I’m close Killian, keep going,” she pants, grateful for the window seeping its cold into her hands, a contrast to the unbearable heat of her body.

“I want to see you come, I want to feel you come Emma. You feel so good around me when you come, you sound so…”

He drifts off with his words, settling for slamming his hips into her, and Emma can feel her orgasm, it’s right there, she can taste it—

With one more press of his thumb she’s careening high, and it’s his arm around her waist that prevents her from collapsing on weak legs, shivering. She can barely process the kisses he is pressing to her shoulders, a few more quick thrusts before he is there too.

His weight pins her to the window for a minute, but Emma can’t mind because she can’t focus on anything but the small aftershocks in her core. Killian laughs weakly and pulls out of her, pulling up his pants, and then hers when she doesn’t make a move to do so herself.

Killian takes her hand in his and pulls her toward their bedroom. Emma follows without resistance, amazed that she can even make her legs move. She collapses onto the mattress, only moving when he nudges her body to pull the covers up over her. He then crawls in after her and cocoons her body in his.

There is silence for a moment before Killian says, “You were trembling, love.”

Emma struggles to muster up the appropriate response to that, but her brain still isn’t working at even half capacity. “Fuck you.”

He nuzzles into her hair. “We already did that.“

Emma rolls over to face him and wrinkles her nose at him. “I love you, even when you’re being a little shit.”

He brings his arms up and wedges them under her back so that he is essentially hugging her. She wriggles about for a moment, adjusting, and turns the page, eyes only flicking down to him momentarily; she is met with the top of his head, his eyes trained somewhere off to the side.

It is a comfortable few minutes they spend, his fingers drawing light, ceaseless patterns on her back, breath skating over her waist and dissipating out into the air. He presses occasional chaste kisses to the part of her body closest to his lips, and she hums when he does, letting the contentment wash over her.

It’s almost unnoticeable when he shifts, scooting downwards, continuing with his kisses. And it isn’t until he presses his open mouth to her over her clothes, breathing out hotly, that she is jolted out of her reading.

“Killian—“ she starts, but he moves even closer into her, and his nose puts just the slightest pressure on her clit. She stiffens, frowning down at him from underneath where her arms are holding up her book. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying myself,” he supplies, and now his arms are down by her tailbone, lifting her hips up so that he doesn’t have to crane his neck as much. Emma is determined to ignore him, determined to finish this god damn chapter, so she burns a hole through the book with her stare when he presses the flat of his tongue against her fully, wetting her shorts.

“I can already smell you, Emma.” Killian’s voice is rough, low, and it makes her heart skip a beat.

She screws her eyes shut, but she doesn’t need to be looking at him. The visual is already there in her mind, blue eyes gazing up at her heatedly from between her legs, permanently tousled hair above the arching brows, and the clear smirk when he lowers his mouth down onto her.

He scrapes his teeth along her, the sensation dulled by the layers of clothing so that it is soft, almost gentle. She is mostly able to suppress the shudder that motion sends through her, but he notices it anyway because the vibration of his laugh against her shoots up her body. Killian turns his head to place kisses along her inner thighs, not ever losing contact with her skin, dragging his lips along her until he decided to mouth at her again.

His left arm lifts her up higher, but his right arm is now free, trailing up and down her outer thigh, fingertips edging up under her shorts to where her underwear is before retreating again.

Emma isn’t even pretending to read by this point, the book lying forgotten on her stomach as Killian continues his ministrations. When he is finally back between her legs, inhaling deeply, he reaches up and pulls her shorts down, short nails raising goose bumps where they scrape. Emma is more than happy to help, moving so that she can kick them off onto the floor.

Killian pulls back just the slightest bit, and his eyes drag up her body, over her breasts, until they meet hers. She sucks in a breath when he licks his lips. “You’ve soaked through.”

A flush rises to her cheeks, one that has nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the way he drops his gaze back down hungrily. He lowers his head and opens his mouth against her, bringing just the tip of his tongue from bottom to top. He moans, and licks her again. She almost misses it when he mumbles, “I can taste you already, love.”

It’s like an explosion has happened within her; tendrils of heat stretch out to her fingers and toes, and her hips rise up of their own accord to be closer to his mouth. Killian seems to be in agreement with her, so he stretches and latches onto the band of her underwear with his teeth, pulling them down, not stopping his hand’s constant movement on her leg.

That image, of him using his fucking teeth to rid her of her final piece of clothing, causes a fissure in her demeanor. She allows her head to drop back onto the arm of the couch, eyes open but unfocused, all attention zeroed in on where he is touching her.

Emma draws one leg out of her underwear, but Killian is holding her other, so they stay tangled around her thigh. He wraps his hand around them, pulling and twisting until he has a firm grip. His breath is now directly on her, and her muscles tighten in anticipation.

He doesn’t move, however, and she brings her head back up, looking down at him blearily. It seems this is what he was waiting for, her eyes fixed on his, because Killian then opens his mouth, allowing her to see his tongue, and kisses her clit.

She lets a moan drop from her mouth, the air sucked out of the room until she is panting, fighting for it, because he feels so fucking good and he is still taking his time, moving so infuriatingly slowly that she thinks she might scream. He swirls his tongue in small circles around her, and pulls away to plant a wet kiss on her hip, one that leaves her own wetness on her skin.

His forearm hitches her up higher, which is the only warning she gets before he licks a stripe upwards, stopping just shy of the sensitive bundle of nerves. Emma grits her teeth, tries very hard to ignore the sweat beading on her chest, and fails spectacularly. Killian sinks just the tip of his tongue into her, just so she can really feel it, and it’s pure torture.

He opens his mouth wide, kisses her folds, and whispers something about how wet she is, gods Emma, and thrusts his tongue up, as far into her as he can go. Emma squirms, and her hands go to his hair, trying to press him harder against her, to get him to just move the way she wants him to.

Killian strings her along some more, pulling out slowly, dragging his tongue in large circles around her and taking a small detour up to her clit again, sucking it into his mouth for just a moment, just enough to spark something within her, not near enough to allow the feeling to build.

“You’re going to come from just my tongue, Emma. Look at me.”

She does, and his eyes are blazing, pupils blown wide. “I swear it.”

Killian’s tongue gives her one last firm lick, closing his teeth sharply but briefly over her clit, causing her to try out, and dives down to fuck into her with earnest. He uses his grip on her underwear to move her leg, pushing it farther from the other so she is spread open for him. Emma feels absolutely dirty, a fully clothed man between her legs licking and thrusting his tongue like he has never tasted anything better.

Her heart rate picks up, racing forward as the coil inside of her winds tight with every movement of his mouth. Killian uses his lips as well, closing them around her even as his tongue continues to move, and Emma feels stimulated in every part of her body. She curls her toes, the fingers that had slackened in his hair pulling sharply again.

When he inches forward that much more, his nose presses against her clit and she shudders against him. He’s quick, sure in his motions, tilting his head this way and that so the movements on her clit and inside of her never cease. Emma is scrabbling for purchase somewhere, positive that if she doesn’t find something firm and solid to ground her, she will fall off the face of the earth.

She is close, her orgasm approaching fast, and he can tell because he increases his speed, is less delicate when he fucks her, and she distantly hears herself moaning, getting swears out from between gritted teeth, his name interspersed. The muscles of her stomach clench, and she can feel herself fluttering, so the abrupt loss of skin on skin is enough to cause her to cry out loudly in dismay, until he places his lips around her clit. His teeth hold her gently, mouth sucking, and then he flicks his tongue back and forth over her rapidly, nothing soft or gentle about this at all, and Emma tumbles head first over the precipice.

Her throat is raw when she can focus again, like she has been breathing too hard from her mouth. She reaches for him, fully expecting him to be licking his lips and smirking up at her, twinkling eyes and all, but her hands close on empty air.

Emma jolts up, as much as she can while feeling boneless, to see him strolling away from her.

“Killian—what the fuck?”

He turns back and grins at her. “Yes, Emma?”

“Get your ass back over here and finish what you started.”

He adopts a fake pout, looking totally absurd, and says, “But, Emma. I’m tired.”

She gapes, sweat drying on her body, naked from the waist down, and watches as he enters the kitchen, bending over to see what they have in the fridge. Smugness radiates off of his form, and he glances at her out of his periphery.

Granted, he’s still half asleep himself. She is still tucked in his arms comfortably, his scruff lightly tickling at the sensitive skin by her spine, but he’s maneuvered so that he can slowly rub up against her ass. His arousal is very apparent.

“Killian…” Emma groans, shifting away from him slightly. He pulls her back in.

“I’m sorry, it just feels so good Emma.” His voice is heavily laced with sleep.

When she rolls over to face him, he cracks his eyes open. His hair is tousled from sleep, undeniably sexy. He smiles slowly, even as he whines at the loss of contact. Emma sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

“I need my sleep, Killian.”

It’s incredible how he can look so adorably sleepy and still drop his voice down into a sexy purr, “We could do something so much more fun than sleep, darling.”

He’s so fucking impossible to resist. Emma pushes at him so he’s lying flat on his back and she is straddling him, chest pressed to his. Through their thin sleep clothes, there is no mistaking his erection pressed up against her.

“Like what?” she asks, trailing light fingers over his bared torso. Killian’s eyes are wide open now, watching her slither down his body. His hand is bunched in the material of her tank top, just above where her shorts start.

“There are a few things that come to mind,” He sounds like he is going to continue, but bites off the words when Emma presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss against his collarbone. She shimmies downwards, trailing little kisses and bites along his muscles, sucking hard enough to leave a red mark next to his hipbone. He sucks in a breath, and her eyes flick back up to meet his. They’re glazed with desire now, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips while she’s looking. The action makes her groan into his skin.

Killian’s hand leaves her shirt, and she can move down so she is kneeling between his legs. Emma tilts her head to the side, studying him. Despite his aversion to any clothing that isn’t leather or button-up vests, he’s taken a liking to sleeping in boxers. They’re tented, and Emma runs her hand over him, a feather-light touch. Killian bites his bottom lip and lifts his hips up marginally.

“Gods, Emma, no teasing love. Not right now.”

She agrees. In a deft movement she lifts up the waistband of his boxers and slides them down his thighs. She doesn’t bother pulling them off all the way, leaves his legs tangled up in them and reaches down to wrap her fingers around him.

He hisses, and Emma smirks down at him. She slides her hand down so she is gripping him at the base and leans in to lick a quick stripe from base to tip. Killian swears, and his hand goes straight for her hair.

It’s a rush, to have him under her like this, completely at her mercy. Emma has always been proud of her blowjob skills, but never until Killian did she feel so powerful while doing it. She kisses the tip, and makes sure he is looking directly at her before licking the precum off her lips. Emma lets out a wanton moan, eyes fluttering shut, and when she peeks again Killian is hypnotized. A smile curls along her lips like a cat, and she takes the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it slowly.

Killian’s grip on her hair tightens, and Emma feels a thrill go through her at the slight pulling. She sucks in a breath through her nose, and takes him in all the way to the base.

“Emma!”

She’s slow to pull back off of him, dragging her tongue along the vein on the bottom of his cock as she goes. She hums, knowing exactly what the vibrations do to him, and watches the muscles in his stomach jump. He slips out of her mouth with a wet pop, and she grins at him.

“Is this what you were thinking of?”

He pushes her head ever so lightly back in the direction of his cock, and Emma laughs, but obliges. She kisses the spit-slick sides before sucking him back in. She sets up a steady pace of bobbing, using her thumb and forefinger as a ring to follow in her mouth’s wake. Killian sounds absolutely wrecked, groaning and thrusting his hips up in time with her rhythm.

Emma places her free hand on his hip, scratching her nails in delicate patterns along his skin. He twists the ends of her hair around his fingers, and Emma grins around his length in her mouth. She hollows out her cheeks and sucks hard, up and down, up and down, until he comes hot and sticky into the back of her throat.

She swallows, cleaning off the sensitive tip of his cock with gentle licks, and sits up again, wiping the back of her hand across her lips. Killian is panting slightly when he heaves up off the mattress, cupping her jaw and kissing her firmly. Emma relaxes into it for a moment before sighing and leaning back into her pillow.

Killian ducks his head to press kisses to her throat, but Emma pushes him away. “No…” she says. “I’m tired.”

“Emma…” he tries, skirting her hands. He tugs her earlobe between his teeth.

She rolls onto her side and curls up into a ball. “The point of giving you a blowjob was to stop you bothering me. I’m going to go back to sleep now. And you can get up and do whatever you want. I’m going to enjoy my day off.”

He stills. “You’re quite serious?”

“Deadly.”

Emma had tried to stay away. She really, really had. There are so many other important things that she should be doing instead, an entire town that needs protecting, but she found herself increasingly lost in her own fantasies—because god damn, he had such a beautiful cock, big and thick and it has been a while and how good would he feel fucking into her as fast and hard as she wants him to—

With the taste of him still on her lips, Emma had locked the station door once again and rode out an orgasm on her fingers imagining the way he would feel stretching her, the burn and pull of him inside of her.

Afterwards, shuddering and breathless, Emma had already known that she wouldn’t be able to keep herself from him for long. Not now that she already knows his weight in her hands, the saltiness of him in her mouth. It was just a matter of how long she could hold out.

The answer to that turns out to be longer than expected, honestly, because she makes it through nine days and nights of getting herself off thinking about his eyes dark, staring at her while he makes her come, before she drops Henry off at Regina’s one night and drives twenty miles over the speed limit to the Jolly Roger.

He had kept his distance from her since that day, too, which instead of cooling her off, frustrated her even more. At least if he had been around to spout innuendos and look directly at her while licking his lips she would have an excuse for why she was so consumed with this desire for him. As it is, Emma is frustrated with herself, and frustrated with him, and frustrated with the whole damn situation and she is going to fuck a pirate tonight.

“Strip,” she tells him shortly, starting on the buttons of her blouse while kicking out of her boots. “And don’t talk.”

She only manages to undo two of the buttons before she is being pressed harshly up against the wall with his hot breath on her neck, hips pinning hers firmly and one of his knees nudging her legs apart.

“Ordering around a captain on his own ship is a good way to put yourself in a rather precarious position, love.”

Emma tries to lean in toward him, but he brings his left arm up and presses his forearm across her shoulders, effectively immobilizing her except for her arms and hands, which come up to clutch at his coat. Hook’s eyes glitter darkly, and he drags his heated gaze down over her body, lingering on the exposed skin of her chest where the buttons are undone, the curve of her waist and hips.

He lowers his head to her neck, breathes in deeply, and starts skimming his lips along her skin, up the curve of her throat, along her jaw, and nuzzles her ear almost affectionately. His body is radiating heat, however, and the slice of his words make it very clear that he is anything but indifferent.

“You made me wait, Swan. Nine bloody days thinking about your hot little mouth, and then how you must have fucked yourself thinking about me.“

He groans at his own words, nipping her earlobe, and then repeats his actions on the other side of her neck. It’s like a heat wave ripples through Emma’s body and she curls her fingers in the lapels of his coat, trying to push it off his shoulders. Hook growls at her, biting down at the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“I don’t think so, princess. This is going to be on my terms."

There is anger sizzling under his words, a rigidness to his frame that twists Emma’s stomach into knots. She wets her lips, swallowing with some trouble, and stills underneath him.

She can feel his grin against her collarbone. “Good girl. Here is what is going to happen, Emma.” Her name rolls off his tongue like it belongs there, like no one else could ever say it the way he does. “You’re going to apologize to me, for what you did. And then you are going to tell me just what you want me to do to you.” He draws his hook over her clothes, the tip catching on the fabric of her shirt, then her jeans. Emma keeps her shoulder blades flat against the wall where he had pinned them. “And if you ask me prettily enough, I may just grant you your wishes.”

Emma drops her hands to her sides, still with enough presence of mind to feel a flare of irritation. “In your dreams, Hook.”

He laughs, teeth scraping lightly down her breastbone. “Oh no, darling. In my dreams, you’re doing much more than just begging.”

That makes her knees go a little weak because god, the mental image of him jerking off thinking about her beneath him is too much. He notices—of course he does—and puts some space between their hips so that he can rub his palm against her through her jeans. That, combined with the cool metal of the curve of his hook inching up underneath her shirt makes her bite her lip.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for? To let the pirate fuck you until you see stars?"

She shakes her head against the wall, closing her eyes, but the feeling of his tongue flicking out to taste her causes them to fly open again. He pulls her shirt to the side with his teeth and explores the newly exposed skin, worrying the sensitive flesh above her breasts. Still his hand moves in steady motions back and forth over her, and Emma can feel herself already starting to get wet.

“Hook…” she snaps, looking down at him. He merely hums against her, pressing down a bit harder with the point of his hook, causing her to jump and leaving a red line across her stomach.

She reaches up to try and undo more of her own buttons, but he knocks her hands away from herself and straightens up suddenly, blue eyes flashing, teeth bared just the slightest bit. “All you have to do is ask nicely. I’m not one to deny a woman when she is in need.”

Emma glares at him, pressing her lips together in a thin line pointedly.

“Well, in that case…” He moves to pull away from her completely, leaving her with a heady press of his lips to the hollow of her throat, and Emma finds herself scrabbling to grab him, to keep his body against hers and his hand on her and his lips tracing delicious patterns over and over.

“No! I’m—I’m sorry."

Hook turns back to her, his knee still keeping her legs apart, but too much space between the rest of them. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” His smile is overly bright, and Emma hates him a little bit.

“I’m. Sorry.”

“What exactly are you sorry about, dear Swan?”

She grits her teeth, and her answer comes out as a hiss. “For making you leave when clearly all you wanted to do was fuck me senseless.”

She hears a sharp intake of breath and grins at him, at the way that he is flush against her once more. “That is not the apology I was looking for.” He rubs himself against her thigh, and she can very clearly feel his arousal through both of their pants. “But it will do.”

With that, his lips descend on hers, forcing her mouth open and delving his tongue in immediately. He moves his thigh higher so she can press down on him, and his hand wanders, playing with the waistband of her jeans, slipping up under the hem of her shirt. His hook seems everywhere at once, pricking at her neck, sliding over her ribs, drawing small circles on her waist.

Emma moans into his mouth and twines her arms around his neck, holding him to her. He kisses like he wants to take everything she has for himself, and Emma is powerless to stop him, doesn’t want to stop him. Still, he doesn’t make any moves to rid her of her clothes, not even as he trails wet kisses over her neck, sucking over her pulse point hard enough to leave a mark.

Hook allows her to grind down on his thigh, her head tossed back, focusing on the sensation of his teeth nipping at her, and he groans, “Tell me what you want, Emma.”

Her mouth is open, breathing already shallow, chest already heaving. Her hands are in his hair, tugging just a bit, massaging her fingers over his scalp, and he licks her, right over her heart.

“Tell me what you want from me.”

He presses his hook into her sharply, and there is a small pinprick of pain in her side, enough to make her gasp. “I want you to touch me!”

“If the lady insists.”

He doesn’t bother with the buttons on her blouse, merely rips right through it with his hook, and that definitely shouldn’t turn Emma on but it does, and she hurries to help him pull it off of her arms, cheeks starting to heat up.

Hook takes a moment to admire her, eyes hooded. He brings his hand up and palms her breast, rolling his thumb over her nipple through her bra experimentally. Emma arches her back, pushing herself into his grip, and he runs his tongue over his teeth. “Shall I rid you of this as well?”

Without waiting for her answer he pushes the straps down and shoves the entire bra so that it rests around her waist. His lips are on her immediately, kissing, sucking, worrying her nipple between his teeth until she gives a hiss, trying to pull him away from her. He merely flicks his tongue out, soothing the sharp sting, and draws back to kiss her again, even rougher, as his calloused palm and fingers knead her other breast.

“What else, Swan?” he murmurs against her lips, biting and pulling on them, the vibrations going straight to her core. Her eyes flutter as she tries to keep them open, keep them on his blue ones with the pupils blown wide.

“Pants,” she whispers, hooking her fingers into them. “I want you to kiss me.”

Hook’s eyes close and he leans his forehead against hers. “Where?”

“Everywhere.”

He drops to his knees faster than she can blink, dragging his hook and hand down with him, and presses kisses to her stomach, her hipbones as his fingers work at the button of her jeans, pull the zipper down, work them over her hips and legs.

He leans forward and inhales, warm breath ghosting out over her on the exhale. His hand and his hook are on the back of her thighs, pulling her forward toward him. He opens his mouth wide against her, shooting sparks through her veins, but doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything but pull back and press his lips infuriatingly everywhere but where she wants him.

She looks down at him, and he quirks an eyebrow. Even like this, between her legs, erection clearly straining against his pants, he’s the one in control. Emma thrusts her hips forward at him, but he brings one of his arms around and pushes her back against the wall.

“You know the rules, Emma. Tell me how you want me to make you come so hard that you fuck your cunt into my mouth.”

She groans. “God, just do it, Hook.”

He cocks his head at her, irritated, and trails the tip of his tongue over her. He catches some of the fabric in his teeth, pulling it back only to let it snap against her skin when he lets go. “I can taste you already. You must be soaking wet for me.”

She wants to slap him. “I want you to fuck me with your tongue and your fingers, and I want to come with your mouth on me, until I can’t stand anymore.”

Hook presses the flat of his tongue against her, and she thinks that might collapse right there, but he does nothing more except dig his fingers hard into her thigh. “Ask me nicely, Swan.”

“Please, Hook. Please.” She tries to keep her voice from being a whimper; doesn’t think she succeeds.

“Don’t move.”

He wastes no time after that, pulling aside her panties to brush his fingers against her, finding her hot and wet. His eyes are intense as he watches himself run his fingers through her folds, listening to her moans above him. “Gods, I’ve barely touched you and you’re dripping. Thought about this a lot, haven’t you? About me tasting you, fucking you until you can’t walk straight.”

He slips one finger inside of her and Emma practically writhes, trying to get him to move, trying to get him to do anything. He makes another mark on her thigh with his teeth, scruff scraping over her skin when he turns his head, and latches his mouth onto her clit.

Emma cries out at the sensation of him flicking his tongue back and forth over her. He moans, pulls back to whisper words about how sinfully good she tastes, and adds another finger, starting to move them in earnest. Every time he pulls out, he curls them, dragging over the spot inside her that has her clutching at his shoulders.

"Gods, you just love this don’t you? A pirate making you come in just minutes. I’ll wager you’ve never had anyone who knew how to fuck you like you need before.”

Three fingers and the pressure is building quickly, her entire body nearly vibrating. Hook alternates between licking her clit in long strokes and sucking it into his mouth, pumping his fingers faster, angling his hand so that her legs are shaking, trying to spread wider so that he can reach more of her.

She digs her hands into his hair and presses him closer to her because it feels so good, fuck, she’s definitely going to come if he keeps this up and she wants to, god she wants to.

Hook pulls back from her, and Emma cries out, trying to force him back where she wants him, but he resists, keeping a steady pace with his fingers. She looks down at him through hazy eyes, his lips coated in her wetness.

“Watch, Swan. I want to see your face when I make you come.”

His mouth is on her again, eyes trained on her expression, and his fingers work her faster, more insistently. She is back on the brink again in an instant, the image of the hunger in his face while he circles his tongue around her clit fueling the already raging fire inside of her. Emma’s body is flushing, the redness spreading down over her chest, ears hot and fuck, fuck, fuck—

His left arm holds her to him while she comes, clenching down around his fingers, clawing at the wood behind her, trying to find something to hold onto. He doesn’t stop his movements, holding her clit between his teeth and moving his tongue back and forth over her so that her body actually tries to move back on its own, she’s so fucking sensitive but he removes his fingers and fucks into her with his tongue, replacing his mouth with his thumb on her clit and holy shit she’s tumbling over the edge again.

“Oh my god, fuck!” Emma’s head smacks against the wall when she drops it backwards but she doesn’t care because he soothes her down from her high, small circles around her clit until she stops fluttering and Emma can catch her breath.

“Damn,” she mutters, using all of her strength to keep herself from sliding down the wall in a heap.

Hook stands, unable to resist one last teasing swipe through her folds as he does, and swipes the back of his wrist across his mouth. “You felt so good when you came around my fingers, love. I can’t wait until I can feel you coming around my cock.”

She tries to focus her gaze on him, watching as he undoes the laces of his pants in practiced movements, hitching one of her legs up around his hips and then lifting her so she can wrap the other around him. His cock is free now, just as big as she remembers it, and he teases her with it but makes no move to push inside of her.

Emma knows the deal by now. “Fuck me, please, I want to feel your cock stretching me hard and fast, so that I can’t think about anything else except how you feel inside me.”

He looks momentarily taken aback by her words, by how explicit they are, but it passes and he braces her against the wall, urging her to arch her back. “Let’s see just how loud you can be.”

In one, smooth thrust he’s inside of her, and Emma keens in the back of her throat, the burn of him exactly as she’d thought it would be, so much better than her fingers when she imagined this. Hook leans his forehead on her shoulder, eyes trained where they are joined, and pulls out, forcing himself back in hard enough to pull a gasp from her lips.

He sets a harsh pace, long movements where he pulls out until just the head of his cock is inside her and thrusts back again, hard, so that her back slides up against the wall.

Emma scratches at his still-covered shoulders, her sweat-slicked body slipping against the leather of his clothes. She’s crying out on almost every stroke now, can’t feel anything but him inside of her, still so sensitive from the two orgasms she had only minutes before.

“Fuck, Emma,” Hook grunts, lifting her legs higher around his waist. “You look amazing with my cock buried inside of you, so wet and hot and tight.” He lifts his head a bit, to kiss her shoulder, to bite at the skin above her collarbone.

His hook is cold fire against the burning skin of her hip and it sends chills to her nerve endings, feeling like it lights up each and every one. She tries to grind down against him as best as she can, meeting his thrusts with the little leverage she has, and it increases the sensations instantly.

Hook’s breath is hot and damp where it bursts on her skin, and Emma can feel the coil of her orgasm building quickly in her core. She reaches a hand down between their bodies, but he grabs it and slams it against the wall, timing it with a sharp upwards thrust that hits the perfect spot inside of her.

“No,” he says, eyes daring her to argue. “When you come, it is going to be by my hand. No other.”

He increases his pace, and Emma can feel her back starting to pinch with the angle, her spine protesting loudly, but she can’t care because he feels so fucking good and now she wants to beg him, she wants to come so badly—

His hook cuts into the wood next to her head and she feels her heart leap into her throat; if he had been even a few inches off, he would have sliced her cheek open. He grins at her, wide and darkly amused, and uses it as leverage, pulling himself so that he can hit her deeper, roll his hips against her with more fever, and Emma starts to think that she might not need to touch herself to reach her orgasm.

There is a roaring in her ears, and when Hook bites her she flinches, and doesn’t notice his hand snaking between them until there is the hard press of his fingers against her clit. His hips stutter slightly, thrusts becoming more erratic, less directed, and his fingers speed up.

He looks at her, and she bites her lip, tracing the way his brows are drawn down in concentration, his open mouth panting, the sweat beading his forehead. His hook splinters the wood beside her.

One, two more thrusts, quick circles of his fingers and Emma is trembling, her legs shuddering so badly she’s afraid they might drop to the floor. She can feel herself fluttering again around his cock and he moans loudly, nearly slamming her into the wall with each movement.

“Breathe, darling,” he tells her with a smirk, and she realizes she wasn’t, that she couldn’t because he is forcing the air out of her lungs, and god she’s going to come, she can feel it, yes, keep going, please don’t stop, oh my god, Hook!

He draws out her release by slowing his motions, pinching her clit between his thumb and forefinger. She grips him tightly inside of her, and that’s it for him—he comes while mouthing unintelligible words into her jaw.

They stay like that for a while, pressing their chests together, but Hook can’t hold her up like that and eases her down onto the ground, slipping out of her as he does so. Emma stumbles on her legs, almost unable to make them work, and heads for the nearest flat surface, collapsing onto the bed in the corner.