Chapter Text
Once upon a time, she had told him that she loved him. She was drunk, and Killian had not taken her words to heart. They were new friends then, with nothing in common but the course they were both enrolled in at university. As the years passed, they discovered they had more in common than each knew. They had both lost family, hearts blackened by their loss, they were both reluctant to trust anyone. But somehow, they had both decided that the other was worth something. Worth the trust.
And they both liked rum. Killian had discovered that whilst engaging in a drinking game, which he had lost. Emma could drink him under any table, and he loved to watch her slowly succumb to her inebriation, her smile growing wider and her lips looser. Drunk Emma was something he loved because, without a doubt, drunk Emma would always say the words he longed to hear.
“I love you, Killian Jones.”
Of course, sober Emma would never say what was in her heart. He knew that. He had given her many opportunities, but like a wild animal frozen in headlights, she had simply decided that to stay silent was best. She was a puzzle, an uncrackable code that he yearned to find the solution to, but Emma Nolan was one of the world’s toughest. She was more fragile than she knew, but her walls had kept her safe, and even around him, she was reluctant to let them fall.
Maybe she was scared, or maybe she was not, but either way, Killian knew that she was never going to say the words out loud when she was sober, so he had decided that at every opportunity, he would be there whilst she was drunk to hear the words he wanted. Sometimes, without an excuse, he would turn up at her apartment with a bottle of rum in one hand and two glasses in the other. She never turned him away and he would always get what he wanted.
Maybe he was selfish, maybe he wasn’t, but it worked for them. They had drawn an invisible line right through the middle of their relationship - or lack thereof - and instead of being bold and crossing it, they danced around it. He didn’t want to scare her away, and she seemed content to keep him at arm's length. That was, until the day she showed up at his apartment door in the middle of the night, a bottle of their favourite rum in one hand and two glasses in the other.
“Emma?” He asked confused, brow knitting together and his hand gripping the doorknob even tighter than he should have. She had never come to him before and her sudden appearance made him nervously excited.
“Hi,” she whispered sweetly, a blush creeping over her cheeks. “I’m sorry for-”
“No, no, it’s okay, I was just-” Killian began, stumbling over his own words. He took her in, hungry eyes roaming over her entire body, perfectly curved and plump in all the right places, enticingly accented under her oversized t-shirt. It was his t-shirt, one he had given her a few months ago after she had fallen asleep at his place after their movie night, and it seemed to be all she was wearing. Killian’s throat dried up and he blinked, attempting to chase away the arousal stirring in his loins. “Is everything okay?”
“No,” Emma said softly, averting her gaze to the floor. Killian noticed the tips of her ears were pink, almost red under her blush, something he knew she only really had when she was drunk. On closer inspection, he noticed the glass bottle in her grasp was half empty.
“Emma, are you drunk?” Killian teased, relaxing his half-naked body into the doorframe.
Shirtless, he was in just lounge pants that hung low on his hips, the soft line of hair trailing up to his belly button catching her attention as the muscles underneath flexed with his movement. Emma might have whimpered, her bottom lip rolling under her teeth as she stared at his torso. She couldn’t control her own emotions whilst under the influence, and his throaty chuckle at her antics caught her attention, drawing her eyes back to his again.
“I’m sorry, what?” she said in a daze, giving him a cheeky grin. “I was distracted.”
“So it seems.” Killian nodded in agreement, stepping aside. “You want to come inside?”
“Excellent idea.” Emma smiled, pushing her bulk through the doorway. She stumbled a little, her feet unsteady and she fell against his chest with an exaggerated sigh. Killian grabbed her quickly, holding her to him without a second thought, his bare arms wrapping around her body like they were meant to be there.
There was a pause in time, when Emma looked up to him and he saw her gulp hard, the hammering of her heart pounding against his chest in time with his own. He could kiss her, or she could kiss him, they were that close, her breath fogging against the jut of his collarbone as she buried her face in his skin and let him hold her. Killian swallowed, her scent invading his senses, the aloe and honey shower gel she had clearly recently used still consuming her entire being.
“Easy there, love,” Killian rasped, his voice catching in his throat. “How much have you had?”
Emma laughed, giggling in his arms as he pulled them over the threshold and closed the door behind them. Emma only lived in the building opposite his, and he didn’t really need an answer to her question. He had eyes. The bottle was half empty and she was only half-dressed, the soft globes of her behind peeking out from under the hem of his shirt. A tingle in Killian’s stomach made him move away from her, taking the bottle and glasses before she had time to drop them in her stupor.
“I’m celebrating!” Emma exclaimed, twisting out of his embrace and twirling around in his lounge.
“Without pants?” Killian quipped, raising an eyebrow at her as he set the bottle down on the counter on his kitchenette.
Emma stopped her spin, hair in a tangled mess of golden locks as she huffed. She looked down at herself, setting her feet heavily on the hardwood floor of his apartment to stop herself toppling over. “Huh,” she grunted. “I forgot my pants!”
Her laughter filled the room and it made Killian smile. She was happy, and he loved it, almost as much as he loved to hear her say those words. But he knew she was nowhere near as drunk yet for that, and so, without a second thought, he poured them two more glasses of the caramel coloured spirit. He made his way to her, offering her the glass with a smirk.
“In your excitement, no doubt,” he teased lightly. “What are we celebrating, love?”
Emma took the glass from him, her laughter fading a little as she tried to recover some decorum. Her eyes were a little glazed over, he could see that even in the dim lighting of the room, but they still shone with the light he loved to see. She let her head fall back, eyes pinched closed as if she was trying to remember something, and let out a long humming sound that made him chuckle again.
“You don’t remember?” he prodded, lifting his glass to his lips and taking a sip of the rum. It was warm as it slid down his throat, the smack of his lips drawing her attention back to him.
Emma gave him a half-hearted glare, no malice behind her eyes at all before they left his and roamed over his torso once again. Emma took a sip of her rum, trying to hide her salacious smile behind the rim of the glass, but she couldn’t hide the second hum of appreciation that escaped her lips.
“I made a big sale,” she told him finally. “Big bucks.”
“Well done,” Killian said sincerely. He lifted his glass, tipping it a little towards her, before emptying it of the burning liquid. “That is cause for celebration,” he said and made his way back to the kitchenette to pour himself another glass.
“It’s a party!” Emma chimed and he turned to her, glass refilled. “A no pants party!” She laughed, almost spilling her drink doubling over.
Killian lifted an eyebrow at her, making his way towards her once again. He downed his drink quickly, reaching out to take hers from her hand before it had time to spill. Emma pouted, her lip turning out in a child-like sulk and she reached for the glass in his hand, her body flattening to his again. Killian tried to ignore the way she was half-naked and rubbing herself over his entire body, the delicious friction of their scuffle causing her nipples to harden under her shirt and jut out towards him.
“Love,” he tried, his hand finding her hip to steady her. “Maybe you’ve had enough.”
“Maybe you haven’t,” Emma said firmly, sinking back down onto her feet from her tiptoes and crossing her arms over her chest. “You are wearing pants to a no pants party after all.” Her face erupted in a wicked smirk that made his chest tighten as she stole his breath.
“You do realise that you have walked across a street without pants on, right?” Killian laughed, motioning to her bare legs.
“So?” Emma shrugged playfully, arching her body even more into the hard planes of his bare chest.
Killian laughed, pushing her away from him with a gentle nudge. He craned his neck to look around her body, twisting his lips in a wry smile. “I can see your arse, love,” Killian told her with a raised eyebrow.
“You like?” Emma teased, grabbing his hand and stepping closer again, placing his hand on her upper thigh and dragging his fingers over her skin. She felt him gasp and revelled in the way his eyes closed tightly, his internal conflict evident on his face.
“You’re drunk,” Killian told her through gritted teeth. “You won’t remember this in the morning.” Her skin felt like a combination of ice and fire under his fingertips, setting his entire body ablaze from head to toe, the prickle of heat creeping up his back and his skin pulling tight.
“Maybe you should give me something to remember,” Emma purred, her voice slurred by the alcohol clearly in the driver’s seat of her bodily actions.
Killian was taken aback by her words, his throat constricting with dryness and his hand frozen in place on her skin. Hers had moved by now, fingers threading through the coarse hair on his chest and teasing his nipples to attention, her face lighting up at his helplessness at her touch.
“I know you want to,” she cooed, raking her nails over his skin. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Emma,” Killian warned weakly, shaking his head a little. “You don’t know what you-”
“I know exactly what I want, Killian,” Emma told him with more assertiveness than she had displayed all night. Killian locked eyes with her, the dark green pools drawing him in like a siren, drowning him with her need.
“There’s a line,” Killian stuttered, willing his body to move from hers but unable to do so.
“Fuck the line,” Emma laughed, her hand finding the straining cords of his neck. She traced a finger along the length of it, gleefully watching the pain on his face as she felt him harden in his pants. She felt him grip her thigh, fingertips diggings into her flesh as she pressed her body to his, his breath catching in his throat at the warmth of her body against his. Her lips were barely a hair's breadth from his, a coy smile tugging at her lips as she traced the apple of his cheek with her fingertip. “Or you could just fuck me?”
“Jesus Christ,” Killian whimpered helplessly. He was gripping the glass in his hand so hard that he thought he might crush it at any second. He was starting to sweat, one glass of rum not enough for this when Emma had clearly consumed much more than half the bottle missing from the one she had arrived with.
“He can’t help you now,” Emma whispered, reaching for the glass in his hand and plucking it from his grasp. He watched her, fascinated by her every movement, the lust in her eyes pulling him towards the line he said he would never cross. The line was there, but blurring before his very eyes, his body reacting to Emma’s touch and leaving him unable to fight. The thud of the glass on his coffee table shook him back to reality and he blinked hard, stepping away from her despite his body’s protests.
Turning away from her was one of the hardest things Killian had ever done. His skin felt like it was burning away, dripping from his bones and leaving him with nothing but the desire surging through his veins. Emma had been in his heart for years, invaded his every dream and left him with more than one uncomfortable morning, and here she was, throwing herself at him and testing him with her gentle caresses.
All he could do was look away, covering his face with his hands and sighing into his palms, his balls fisting immediately with his frustration. There was nothing that would change the way he felt about her, nothing in a million years, but he would absolutely not take advantage of her in this state. Not even when she skimmed her hands over his shoulders, sending a shiver down his spine and made him wish he wasn’t so weak as to fall.
“I love you, Killian Jones,” she whispered against the skin of his back, pressing her lips to his spine. She kissed him again, lips like lava on his skin, searing the shape of her mouth into his shoulder blades. Emma’s hand trailed over his arms, her lips following her touches across his back, the hair along his forearms prickling under her fingers.
“Emma-” Killian began helplessly, a lump forming in his throat that he couldn’t shift with the most painful of gulps.
“I love you, Killian,” Emma repeated slowly, shifting her position around his body as she kissed it, the hairs on his chest tickling at her nose. “I’ve loved you all this time,” Emma purred, flattening her palms to his chest and nuzzling the scruff on the underside of his jaw. She felt him sigh into her hair, the back of her neck turning hot with the sensation.
Killian’s chest heaved, his lungs not filling quick enough to feed the pounding of his heart. He knew she was drunk, and she often declared her love when she was, but this felt different. This felt like Emma was finally opening up, letting down her walls and inviting him into her heart. It felt real.
“Say something,” Emma whispered when he didn't respond. Her hands found his face, turning it to hers and she felt all of his tension leave him instantly.
“What do you want me to say?” Killian gulped, his eyes finally opening and finding hers once again. Emma’s lips twitched into a smile, genuine and calm.
“Say what’s in your heart.” Her words were soothing, like a balm on every part of his body that she had touched and charred with the flame of her drunken desire. She wanted to hear him say it, he knew that, and he had never imagined it would be this hard to tell the woman he loved how he felt, especially as she had said it first. It had knocked him for six, unsettled him right off the perch, and he was stuck, staring down at her dumbly and lost to the beauty of her smile.
“I don’t want this to be a dream,” Killian breathed, swallowing hard. “I want to wake up in your arms, to kiss your sunbathed skin as the morning breaks and sunlight spills through my window. I want my future to be filled with love, and laughter and I want all of this with you, Emma.” Killian paused, lifting a hand to cradle her face in his hand, his thumb brushing over the apple of her cheek and the corner of her pink lips. “I want you, Emma Nolan. I always have.”
Emma smiled at him, and this time it wasn’t tainted by booze. It was just her smile, lips turning into a sweet curve that she did when she was happy, or content, like she was right now. “I’m right here,” she breathed. Her eyes flicked between his and his lips, hanging slightly agape with his absolute shock at what he had just revealed. “I’ve always been right here.”
Killian ground his jaw, one last attempt at resisting the woman who had haunted his dreams for his entire adult life. Many of his dreams had started this way, the damsel in distress, coming to him with her big, doe eyes and perfectly kissable lips that felt so soft under his. He lifted his hand, taking a huge breath to steady the shake that had developed in his limbs, running his fingers through his hair and letting his eyes fall closed as he exhaled. The conflict within him was more intense than in his dreams, rational thoughts overriding his want.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words?” Killian sighed, tilting his head forward to meet her gaze again, trying to ignore the way her fingertips drew lazy circles over the skin on his forearms. Her touch was electrifying, the smallest thing having such an impact on his body.
“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to say them?” Emma said softly. She swallowed, the taste of alcohol coating her tongue and slipping almost ignored down her throat. “I’ve been scared, Killian, you know me,” she laughed, shaking her hair from her face with a quick flick of her head.
“Why now?” He frowned, narrowing his eyes at her and Emma met his gaze with a smirk. She sucked in a breath, bubbling the breath out over her lips as she thumbed over her shoulder to the depleted bottle of rum behind them.
“Rum makes me chatty,” Emma slurred through her laughter, shaking her head to focus her thoughts. She screwed her face up a little, the room spinning when she tried to blink her vision clear, the sound of Killian’s nervous laughter filling the space between them.
It was a small gap, having narrowed without either of them really realising, and Emma moved her hand to his chest. Her fingers splayed out over the skin, flattening her palm as she watched her fingers intently scratching through the layer of dark hairs there. She felt his gasp, a small intake of air that had his heart taking off in his chest, heartbeat thumping against her fingertips as his body responded to her touch. It gave Emma a sense of womanly pride, knowing how she affected him with such little contact, but she wasn’t sure she would be content with just leaving and knowing he felt the same as she did.
That’s not why she had come here.
“Killian?” Emma purred sweetly, her voice innocent and eyes still fixed on her hand that kneaded against the skin of his pectoral muscle.
“Hmm?” He hummed in response, a hazy sound that cracked a little in the middle from how dry his throat was.
“I know you think I am drunk, and you are too much of a gentleman to ‘take advantage’,” she scoffed playfully, lifting her head to meet his boyish smile. “So, I’m going to kiss you now,” she said firmly, her smile fading into a serious expression that she was sure, based on his sudden stillness, petrified him.
“Alright,” Killian croaked, cheeks flushing with pink.
“And you are going to kiss me back like you mean it.” Her eyes searched his, the outer rim of blue that she had previously found so inviting turning into a darkened grey, his pupils blown wide with desire. His mouth was closed now, the muscles along his jawline twitching under her fingertips as Emma stroked his face, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips as her hand found the back of his head and pulled his lips down to hers.
When their mouths met, it was like an explosion of years of pent up energy rushing them both at the same time, overwhelming each of their bodies to the point of paralyzing them. Neither could move, stuck in an awkward liplock that had them both unsure of what to do, their lips touching but not moving, mouths closed as tightly as their eyes. Emma’s hand dropped to his hip, skimming the edge of his lounge pants and she felt him pull away, staggering back and tearing his lips from hers.
“What’s wrong?” Emma asked gently, hand caught in mid-air where he had previously been. His skin was warm, like the tepid waters of the ocean lapping at her skin in some far off land, and she missed the contact immediately.
“I’m sorry,” Killian gasped, scratching his brow and hunching over in a position that looked more awkward than practical. “Emma, I’m sorry,” he ground out through clenched teeth, his annoyance grating on his every nerve. “You’re drunk and-”
The sound of Emma’s frustrated sigh cut his words off and he watched her move to retrieve the bottle of rum she had bought with her. There wasn’t much left, but she strode towards him with the glass bottle clutched in her hand and held it out for him, shaking the bottle a little to emphasize her offering. She was giving him an out, a way for him to feel more at ease, and with a tentative movement, he reached for it.
“For your conscience,” Emma grinned, letting him take the bottle.
Killian eyed the bottle in his hands, the weight of the glass somewhat less than before but no less a metaphor for his conflicted heart. It was heavy despite its emptiness, the warmth it offered inside just out of reach until he opened it up and the smell of spice as unforgettable as Emma’s lips on his hit him. He cast a glance towards the woman in front of him, her hands fumbling with the front edge of his t-shirt she was wearing and her teeth biting into her bottom lip playfully. He inched the bottle towards his lips and her face erupted in a gleeful smirk, her toes curling into the hardness of his floor at the slight action, and he paused, letting her focus on him one more time.
“If this is a dream, you’ll be gone when I wake anyway,” Killian said slowly, taking a gulp of the acrid rum and grimacing as he swallowed the burning liquid. He took a gulp of air, panting for a breath he needed to still his nerves and threw his head back to finish the entire bottle. When he righted himself again it’s effects were almost instant, the proof of the rum much more than he was used to, and he felt a numbness creep over his entire body.
Emma was there, directly in front of him to relieve him of the now empty bottle and toss it aside. It hit the couch with a silent thump, the hollow echo sound going unnoticed because when she was done, she crossed her arms over her body and lifted the shirt clean off her body. Killian had seen Emma in her underwear before, the images burnt into his mind forever as a painful reminder of what he would never have, only now she seemed different. She was more lithe, each curve of her body accented by the black lingerie as it hugged her breasts and helped push them up to his hungry gaze.
Killian couldn’t help but gulp hard again, the taste of rum lingering in his mouth as he began to salivate uncontrollably, his eyes roaming over the soft swell of her breasts, the flat, lightly toned definition of her abdomen and the smooth, paleness of her legs. Her panties matched her bra and Killian wondered for a second if she had planned this whole scenario, his eyes burning in their sockets as he fought the urge to blink, just to take her in a while longer.
“Do I look like this in your dreams?” Emma cooed, stepping towards him and watching him sway a little at her advances.
Killian blinked rapidly, the fog of drunkenness clouding his judgement just enough that he reached out for her like the million times he had before and she smiled, smoothing her hands over his shoulders and stepping into his embrace. She felt just like she always had, skin soft and warm, the hairs along her arms prickling to attention under his touch, and just like every reverie he had before, she was his.
Emma turned in his arms, the firmness of him pressing into her back, strong arms wrapping around her from behind and holding her still. She squirmed a little, feeling his breath leave him in an almost frustrated growl, face nuzzling into the dip of her collarbone, his scruff irritating the skin there as he nudged her hair aside with his face.
“You smell so good, love,” he purred against the skin on her neck, his spine tingling and his nostrils filling with the smell of her body wash. It still lingered on her skin but its smell just reminded Killian of a thousand fantasies he had of her showering, soft hands skimming over her own body as she whimpered his name into the hot, steaming spray.
“I want to fuck you, Killian, like I know we both want.” Emma’s voice was insistent, her breath short and coming in pants as her brain became muddled with stimulation. Killian’s hands were on her, all over her, tracing the outlines of her body like he had memorized them somehow, fingertips teasing with feather-light touches whilst his lips sucked on her earlobe and the spin of the room kept her in a state of euphoric confusion.
Addled by the rum, now fully coursing through his bloodstream thanks to his increased heart rate, Killian couldn’t stop his body as he ground his erection into the crease of her behind. Emma gasped, turning her head to plant a kiss to the curve of his shoulder and she physically shivered when Killian’s hand grasped the strap of her bra and pulled it down. His fingernails scraped her skin and she yelped, a small sound from the back of her throat that had him even harder in seconds.
“I’m dreaming,” Killian muttered against her neck, sucking on her pulse point there, hands sliding into the lacy confines of her bra and cupping her breasts. Emma arched her back against his body, pushing them into his touch and allowing herself a second to reach up behind herself and undo the clasp. The material gave away under the assault of his hands, falling forward and sliding off her arms, her nipples already hard as Killian kneaded even more roughly with a growl. “Gods, tell me I’m not dreaming,” he pleaded, moving his face so it was pressed against her ear, lips skimming the shell of it and sending a jolt of need straight to her core.
“What does it matter if you are?” Emma purred. She reached behind herself and pushed at his waistband, inching the material of his lounge pants down until it reached his thighs and fell to his ankles under its own weight.
He groaned, stepping out of his pants as he made his way back towards the couch. Emma followed obediently, careful not to trip on the discarded clothes at their feet, Killian’s hot, hard length rubbing her behind on every step. When he reached the couch he stumbled, his whole weight toppling him over until he landed on his arse with an oomph. He immediately reached out for her, stopping her from falling on him with two big, powerful hands to her hips.
Emma sighed, tilting her head back until her hair tickled at the curve of her behind, interrupted temporarily when Killian pressed his lips to the base of her spine and kissed her. His hands kneaded the flesh on her hips, his tongue darting out to taste her skin before kissing away the wetness with more tender pecks of his lips. Emma felt her skin itch, the heat pooling between her thighs, and the ache in her engorged clit was becoming unbearable.
“Touch me,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat when Killian nipped the flesh below her ribs. She reached for his hand on her hip, dragging it across the front of her panties and planting it firmly between her legs, her thighs clenching around his hand and a sigh of relief escaping her mouth.
“Oh, I intend to,” Killian rasped, slipping his hand from where she had placed it so eagerly. She whined at the loss, but was soon grinning in anticipation when Killian began dragging her underwear down to reveal her to him fully naked.
For a second he was taken back, the air leaving his lungs as he took her in. She was marvellous, like a wonder of nature that had not changed in his eyes for all the years he had known her. She was precious, kind, undoubtedly sexy and even if he was dreaming, he wasn’t going to squander a night with her. Killian’s erection bobbed against his stomach, the painfully hard length pounding with each beat of his heart, and he prayed he could last just one second longer than Emma could, just so that he could see her fall.
Before he had time to attack her skin with his lips again, Emma was shuffling back towards him until he had no choice but to sit back in the luxurious cushions. He kept his hands on her hips, pulling her to him as he did, enjoying the way she squeaked in delight when she fell onto his lap. They were like a well-oiled machine, so in sync with each other's thoughts that it took them all of three seconds to get into a position where Emma was laying back on Killian’s chest and his hands were on her breasts once more.
“I’m going to touch you here,” Killian growled, kneading the mounds in his hands, fingertips pulling at Emma’s nipples.
She arched into his hands, her hands gripping his thighs like a vice. She writhed on him, buttocks teasing his erection and shoulders pressed firmly into his chest, her skin on fire from how he was touching her. Killian’s hands skimmed over her body, down across her ribs, intimate touches that felt like a faint breeze over her blazing hot skin.
“Here,” Killian whispered into the skin behind her ear, his face pressed there as he nuzzled the spot of tender flesh. His lips twitched into a smile when she gasped, his hands sliding down onto her legs, teasing her inner thigh with the promise of more.
“Stop,” Emma whined. She turned her head to face him, shaking it with a groan. “Please, just-”
“And here,” Killian purred darkly, his hands finally tracing the outline of her sex, collecting her arousal that had already made its way to the edges of her outer lips. Emma sobbed at his touch, rolling her hips into his hand, desperate for his fingers where she needed him the most.
Killian took pity on her then, his arousal trapped painfully under her body. He reached down with one hand, took hold of cock and began rubbing at her slick folds, letting Emma build up friction against his length. It was torture, for them both, and Emma whimpered incoherently, her hot breath fogging the side of his stubbly cheek as he hissed through his teeth. Killian thrust his hips, gliding over her opening and teasing her some more, turning his face to her until their lips met.
“Killian, please,” Emma begged again. “I can’t take it anymore.”
Killian kissed her again, heeding her plea and moving to circle her clit under two fingers. He dipped his hand down between her legs, collecting some of her essences and used it to coat her nub, smoothing his fingers over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Emma froze, shivering under his touch, her jaw hanging open and making her kisses sloppier than before. They were lost, almost as soon as they had begun, the only sound between them the soft panting and moans of pleasure that filled the room.
Killian slipped his fingers between her folds, finally dipping his fingertips into the heat of her core. She was wet, so very wet, and the sounds she made as he pumped his fingers into her made him dizzy with pleasure. Blood surged to his erection and the tip of it oozed with his precum, smearing across her inner thigh. The heel of his palm pressed against her clit, rubbing the bud as he stroked her inner walls, coaxing her pleasure from her second by second, dragging her higher and higher until she shook on top of him.
“Oh fuck,” she breathed, fingernails digging into his thigh. Killian kissed her again, gobbling up her moans, biting her bottom lip as she rode his fingers. “There,” she gasped into his mouth, her hand flying to cup the side of his face.
“There?” Killian whispered, increasing his pace. His fingers slipped into her, over and over, rubbing the ribbed surface of her g-spot as she nodded in response, the only thing she could do.
“There,” she whimpered, quaking in his arms.
“Come for me, love. I want to feel you come in my arms.” Killian’s words in her ear were enough to send her careening over the edge she had been balanced on. Her orgasm hit her, the soft pulsing in her core gripping at his fingers that were coated in her arousal from tip to palm. Killian carried on, letting her ride his fingers into abandon, grabbing her face with his free hand and watching her tumble over into ecstasy.
Emma slowed, head pounding from alcohol inebriation and release, her body twitching a few more times before she stilled in his lap. Like a cat she stretched, thighs gripping his hand as he tried to withdraw his fingers, a coy smirk plastered upon her pretty pink lips. She was covered in a sheen of sweat, every nerve ending in her body twitching and Killian hadn’t even begun yet.
Emma reached down to stroke his length, not even giving him a second to register what was happening before she lifted her hips and teased her entrance with his tip. Killian grunted, gripping her hips in an attempt to ground him to something, still convinced he was dreaming somewhere inside his head. She was driving him to distraction, a small laugh filling his ear that told him she was now in charge.
“Still think you are dreaming?” Emma purred, sinking onto him a little more.
“Christ, Emma,” Killian rasped, the muscles of her core clenching around him and pulling him in deeper. He grabbed under her thighs, lifting her into a more comfortable position on his lap so that he could slide closer to the edge of the cushions on his couch.
Emma gasped again, his velvety length slipping further inside of her and making her stiffen instantly. Killian grinned, hips rolling into her as he let her down gently, slowly, until he was seated fully within her and they both exhaled hard. He was big, much thicker than anyone Emma had ever slept with before, and she welcomed the way he stretched her with a moan.
“You like that, love?” Killian whispered, his lips inches from her ear as her head rolled back on his shoulder. He pulled her back, laying her flat against his chest and skimmed his hands over her body once more, palming her breast in one hand whilst snaking the other between her legs again.
“I love it,” Emma panted, her hand fisting into his hair, hips canting gently against his in an attempt to get him to move.
“Do you want more?” He growled, his tone taking on a darkness that made her skin tingle with excitement. She nodded dumbly, unable to feel anything but the high of alcohol and his hardness inside of her.
“I want all of you,” Emma purred sweetly, relief washing over her when he began to pull out of her. The delicious drag of him against her walls made her arch her back and he had to hold her from wriggling off of him, seating himself deeper inside of her with a forceful thrust. “Oh fuck,” she squeaked, pulling at his hair harder.
“You said you wanted all of me, Emma,” Killian teased, ramming his entire length into her once more. She cried out again, more profanity tumbling from her lips as he moved into her. “Take all of me, love,” Killian ground out through clenched teeth as he moved. “Take it.”
Fuelled by rum and desire he moved, steadily driving her into another state of pleasure. Her sighs were like music to his ears, loud and clear over the ringing, spurring him on to wring every last drop of arousal out of her before he fell. His heart pounded in his chest so hard he thought it might break through his sternum and he was sure she could feel it against her shoulder blade as she moved.
“I’m taking it,” Emma panted, her body bouncing as he drove up into her. “Fuck me harder, Killian,” she sighed, her body on the precipice of euphoria. “I’m so close.”
“Me too, love,” Killian grunted, his balls aching. “I’m going to come so hard.”
“Together,” she whimpered, her hand flying up to cover his over her breasts, kneading the flesh and tugging her nipple through a gap in his fingers. “Come with me, Killian,” she begged, rolling her hips harder, using her body movement to make sure he rubbed all of the right places. Killian moved his hand to her clit, pressing hard against the swollen nub, coaxing her to her peak because he couldn’t hold on any longer.
“Shit, Emma, I’m coming,” Killian whispered, wrapping his arms around her and fighting her as she rode out her release. “I’m coming, love, I’m coming!”
The second Killian came he tried to pull out of her, his brain fogged from the rum but still competent enough to know that they were taking a huge risk if he came inside her. He wasn’t wearing a condom, and Emma was too far gone, quaking in his arms and stiffening as her own orgasm ripped through her to realise the consequences of their actions. His hot, ropey seed shot out over Emma’s body, the last jerk of his hips smearing it between her lips as he crowed.
They collapsed onto each other, Killian’s still hard length resting gently against her sex, and Emma’s inner muscles still fluttering with the loss of him as her orgasm ebbed away. They were panting heavily, muscles aching, and Emma chuckled, wrapping herself in his arms a little tighter and nuzzling the side of his face with her nose. She looked down her body, a haze around her vision, and laughed harder.
“We made a mess,” she cooed.
“We did,” Killian agreed drunkenly, a slight slur to his words.
He felt on top of the world like he might be sorry once he was sober, but there was one thing he absolutely knew for certain and that was that if Emma was gone in the morning, then this had just been another cruel trick of his drunken mind. He would wake, like the many times he had before, and he would just have the light buzz of an afterglow still coursing through his body. But it would be just a facade.
Killian really hoped she was there tomorrow, for the sake of his heart.