Archive of Our Own

Where You Belong
- A Captain Swan FanFic -

Her heart was in her throat. It was the combination of the loss of Killian and now Robin that had brought on this overwhelming surge of emotion. She was not normally like this. She had built up walls to protect herself from feeling this much pain. They kept her from giving into the enormity of all that had happened. Because if she did that she would not be able to get out of bed for weeks and this town needed her, her family needed her, Henry needed her. So she would give herself this one moment. Alone standing between the graves of two of the bravest men she had ever known, both taken too soon, both taken by evil; Evil that she should have been able to stop. But she couldn't get into that level of guilt. Not just now. She could only handle so much at one time and this moment was about grief not guilt.

As she stood by the grave topped with arrows wrapped with roses she couldn't help but think of the injustice of the whole situation. That the one man Regina had been able to love since Daniel was ripped from her so soon; and for herself that the one man who had finally been able to reach her, to break through her defences and touch her heart had been forced to endure so much pain all because she couldn't save him.

He’d sacrificed himself for her, for them, he was the hero he had always wanted to be and it had killed him. Now that their fight was over Killian would have moved on. She couldn't feel him anymore, not like when he had helped her in the underworld. He was gone.
Her eyes welled up and a tear escaped, running down her cheek, and this time she wouldn't bat it away, wouldn't hide her heartache and sadness. Alone at in the graveyard, with the cold rain beating down on her she opened her heart and poured out her grief.

She sniffed as the tears came in earnest now, blurring her vision, her breath caught as she inhaled when suddenly a tremor ran over her. She was crying sure but she wasn't sobbing she shouldn't have shaken so violently. Something had happened. And as she collected herself she realized she had felt tremors like that one before. It was a pulse, like the one that had shaken Storybooke when she had kissed Henry, it felt like magic, like light magic.
Confused and concerned she slowly turned around and her heart stopped at what she saw. Killian was standing there, in his black leather and boots. She had to blink a few times to clear her stinging eyes and make sure she was not losing her mind or creating visions formed from her grieving heart.

“Swan?”

He spoke. She heard him. How could it be?

“Killian?” She still wasn't sure if he was flesh and blood or a figment of her imagination conjured by her extreme exhaustion and emotional outcry. But he looked like the pirate she remembered, looked like the man she had left down in the underworld. Before she could even think her feet had started to run toward him and what she crashed into was a solid, warm body, whose arms came around her and embraced in a feeling that was so familiar that it broke through her bewilderment. It was him, he was back.

Her heart, a minute ago so full of sadness was now bursting with joy. She was overwhelmed with the relief and happiness and shock of his return. She couldn't think clearly couldn't control her impulses and she kissed him. She needed to touch him to taste him to reassure herself he was real.

She managed to pull herself away from his soft, warm, wonderful lips to ask. “How are you here?”

He laughed at the enthusiasm with which she was kissing him, holding him, “Zeus must have sent me back as a reward for helping you defeat Hades.”

Emma was still too preoccupied with him and his warm skin as she kissed his cheek to really comprehend what he said. She thought he said Zeus had sent him back.

“What?” She was trying to listen to him, really, but she was too busy investigating Killian, looking him over, checking for bruises, cuts trying to make sure he was ok. Their last encounter had left some deep wounds but it appeared that physically he was safe and sound.

“Zeus, you know the ruler of Olympus, the most powerful...” She couldn't wait for him to finish, She didn't need any explanation, not really, the hows or whys he was back did not matter. What was important was that he was back hook and all, and that was all she needed to know. She couldn't stop kissing him, touching him, pulling him close to her. He was warm and solid and his arms were around her. She kissed him once more unable to control herself.

“I don't care how you’re here, I’m just glad you’re here.”

His kiss was powerful, it stirred things in her that she had shut out since she’d left him in the underworld. She had turned off that part of her so that she could get through what needed to be done, she had tried to do as she promised and take down her walls, but without him, it had been more difficult than she ever imagined. Now that he was back they fell once more. She loved him. And with his return so to did all her old feelings: Love, happiness, joy, and passion.

“Aye, I’m just glad you’re alright.” Her heart melted at his concern for her. He had just come from the underworld, one of the most horrible places she had ever been, and he was concerned about her? This is why she loved him. This is why he had been brought back by Zeus; He was truly the best man for her. Standing in the rain, together, in Storybrooke, was something she thought she would never have with him again but through some miracle, through his heroic actions in getting them those pages, he had found a way back to her.

She felt a pang as she remembered where they were and why. “Not all of us are.”

She could feel the weight of what had happened settle on his shoulders as he looked down at the coffin of one of his closest friends. She knew that family had become just as important to him as it had her because, like herself, Killian had been alone for so many years. His ship had been his family and then that was taken from him, his brother’s betrayal had laid heavy on his heart in the underworld and now he had lost a brother in arms. She knew him, he was so similar to herself that she knew where his mind would turn.

She had to repeat what her mother had just told her, “It's not your fault.”

He shook his head and ran a hand over his eyes. “If I hadn't given into the darkness, or, if I had found those pages faster, maybe you would have been better prepared, maybe he wouldn’t have had to sacrifice himself. Maybe…”

“Killian,” She took his cheek in her palm. We can play maybe and what if all day long. My mother once told me we can spend all day trying to figure out why each of us should feel guilty but it doesn't help us or those we love. We did all we could, and he died a hero, he died for the ones he loved. Just like you did.”

“But now I’m back and he’s…”

“He’s moved on. He’s at peace.”

Killian stepped forward and laid a hand on the coffin, closed his eyes, and took a deep and meaningful breath. Emma let him have his moment, let him say goodbye before she approached him. She rubbed his lower back in a gesture of comfort and with a need to maintain physical connection with him. She took a deep breath herself before taking Killian’s arm and walking with him away from the grave and back towards her little yellow bug.

She leaned into his shoulder, needing the comfort that his warm and solid form provided. She felt a pang of guilt as she realized that she was happy. Happy in his arms, happy that the man she loved had returned to her. How could she be happy on such a sad day? But she was her parents’ daughter and something inside her told her that the best way to honour the dead was by celebrating life. By taking joy in the memories we had of them and moving forward with a new appreciation for the things one still had.
She very much appreciated the man at her side now. She was grateful beyond measure that he had returned to her. In fact, now with a bit of time and consideration, she was curious as to exactly how he had been returned.

“So tell me again, how are you here?”

He smiled down at her and stopped as they approached her car. He took hold of her arm and explained exactly what happened.

“So, after I left Arthur to guard over the underworld I walked through the light, my job done, I thought I was ready to leave. But as I walked through all I could see was your face. I tried to remember what you asked, I tried to let you go and move on. Then there was this flash of light and I was blinded, when I finally recovered my sight I was in a great white hall, lined with columns, I thought I was alone until I heard a voice, I turned around to find a man, wrapped in white cloth and wearing a crown of gold laurels. Zeus told me that I had done well in my heroic endeavours and that I would be rewarded and taken to where I belonged.”

His eyes misted up and he was looking at her now like he had that day in the cabin, eyes full of emotion and love shining down for her. She felt her heart beat wildly and her own eyes water. She was breathless with the realization that she was where he belonged. He had once called her his happy ending and now he was calling her his home.

She choked out, “I missed you so much,” and she felt a tear escape. He brought his hand to her cheek and wiped away her tear, just like he had in the Enchanted Forest.

“I missed you too, love, but don't cry, I'm home, back where I belong.” He kissed her lips, a light achingly sweet kiss. She smiled and looked back up at him, his lashes were wet but he wore a smile on his face. She caressed his stubbled cheek and kissed him back. She got an idea and a shiver of anticipation ran down her back. She pulled back and smirked at his puzzled face before backing up and walking around to open the door of her car.
She delighted in the way he let her have her fun and didn't press her as she started the car and they drove out of the cemetery. He trusted her, just as much as she trusted him, and now that she had him alone and all to herself she was going to take full advantage.
She took one hand off the wheel and laid it on his thigh both from a brazen impulse and from the need to maintain contact with him. She giggled at the way he looked at her before growling his resolve to let her have her way.

The turned right on Main street as opposed to left, heading away from Granny’s and the reception. She needed some time away from everyone, some time with just Killian before they burst in and had to deal with the onslaught of questions, well wishes, and potential hostility on the part of Regina. That made Emma nervous and she wasn't quite ready to face them, She was still reeling from the idea that Hook really was here, that he had come back to her. She wanted time to adjust and to appreciate the gift of having him back before she had to deal with everyone else.

“Swan, where are we going? I thought…”

“You’ll see.” She teased. “I’m not ready to face everyone yet. I’m not ready to share you.” She smiled aiming for levity. She knew he saw right through her act but that he was willing to go along with it. It was a good thing too because for what she had planned she needed an active participant.

When the car finally stopped she saw his face light with comprehension. He might not know exactly what she wanted but the sight of the house, their house, seemed to rouse him in exactly the way she hoped.

She quickly exited the car and ran around to the curb, took hold of his hand and pulled them through the picket fence, over the path, and to their front door; their front door.

"We have the house to ourselves. Our house and we are finally ourselves. No Dark Ones no evil queens or curses or even well-meaning family members."

Killian gave her a meaningful look before he took hold of her cheek and kissed her. She pulled at his jacket wanting him closer, needing to delve deeper into the kids and really take him in all of the emotion from the last few days, losing him, losing Robin and now having him back swelled up and crashed over her like a wave. She sobbed into his kiss before breaking briefly.

"Let's go inside?” She whispered trying to regain some control over herself. Not waiting for an answer and opened the door dragging him in with her.

They were hardly over the threshold before she took his mouth once more. She pawed at him, indulged in him and he in her. Her passion was meant in every caress, every kiss. She pushed him and he pulled her. They inched further into the house. Her intent was clear by now and she wasted no time in getting to the point. She began by taking hold of his jacket and pushing it off his shoulders and down his arm. It caught on his elbows and she couldn't move it anymore. She tugged once, twice, before he broke from the kiss with a laugh.

"One thing we share is an appreciation for quality leather, but it can be a damned nuisance sometimes." He said shrugging off the coat and letting it hit the floor with an audible thud.

She laughed though truthfully tears threatening to escape. She loved his levity, his humour and the way he made the tensest situations seem light. Though she was no longer tense there were was definitely some kind of tension and it was nice to see him as his old self.

His hand came to her own coat and he flicked open the single button, ran his hand inside over her waist and pulled her closer to him. The touch of his hand on her damp body sent warm ripples through her body faster than any hot water bottle or fire could have managed. The full length of her body leaned against his own and wrapped her arms around his neck. He took her mouth once more, clearly catching up to her in enthusiasm. His hand moved over her back raking patterns of warmth all over her skin.
He broke away from her mouth to nuzzle at her neck, she laughed and breathed a heavy sigh at his skillful caresses.

She busied herself with the buttons of his shirt while he explored the hollow at her throat. It was a clumsy and bumbled attempt but eventually, she succeeded in removing the top four buttons, one more to go. He stopped her, moving back slightly.

"I'm normally not one to protest, love, but..." She stopped him with a kiss, taking hold of the collar of his shirt and pulling his lips down to hers.

"I don't care," She breathed. "I can't think of anyone or anything else but you, and how much I want you."

He growled his appreciation and took hold of her waist and pulled her upwards. She jumped into his arms and wrapped herself around him like a blanket but found it was him that was keeping her warm.

"Well then Swan, let's say we take this intriguing entanglement somewhere more comfortable.” He said with a cocky raised brow and a glint of mischief in his eye.

He headed towards the stairs. Before Emma could protest they were up to the first flight and turning on the landing towards the second story. A shiver of desire shot through her spurred by the demonstration of his strength. She never thought she was one to fall for manly men but this exhibition of masculine strength was definitely working for her.
She couldn't remember if he had ever been up to this story of the house but he managed to find his way to the bedroom without trouble or prompting.

They burst through the door with a loud thud, their mouths still connected in a kiss building with promise.
He finally set her down and she looked around the room. She had never slept here. When she had been the dark one she hadn't needed sleep, she'd even too busy scheming, trying to find a way to get the darkness out of Killian or herself, or both. But she supposed there was no better way to christen the room than by what she had planned.

The room itself was large and airy, with butter yellow walls. A large fire place was direct across from the door outlined in white molding and trim, with a large mantle piece. Above which, mounted on the wall was the large compass from the Jolly Roger.

The entire decor of the place had a quasi-nautical theme to suit Killian with modern soft touches of Emma. The thing that caught Emma's attention was the large four poster bed to her right. It was very old-world with large wooden posters, carved and delicate, but with clean white bedding that shone with a pearl finish. The curtains hanging from the bed were light and white and would catch the breeze like sails if she opened the windows and at the top, the bed was dissected by what looked like ship rope.

It was perfect. All that was lacking was a little ambiance. With a flick of her wrist and a swipe of her hand she had conjured a hundred candles and lit a booming fire in the hearth.

"I can tell this is going to be a magical evening, in more ways that one," Killian said with a flirty lift of his brow.

Emma laughed at his terrible entendre. But he was right. She wanted this to be special and after what they had been through she wasn't shy about admitting her romantic inclinations.

She took hold of him by the waist and pulled herself close to him. "Killian I..." The words caught in her throat but his time not from fear but from emotion. "I can't believe your back. And this is where you belong, right here with me." She kissed him softly once then pulled back and searched his eyes. She found a flood of emotion there that equaled her own swirling thoughts and she knew that he felt the same way.
Spurred into action by the need to break contact or else drown in the overwhelming consequences of their emotional journey Emma began to tear at his clothes and he at hers and with the aid of his hook he literally tore her clothes off. She heard her black shirt rip as he wrenched it off her shoulders but she didn't care. She wanted him so badly. She clawed at his skin needing him to be closer and closer still.
She flicked off the shoes not caring where they landed. She undid the buckle of her belt as he traced the lines of her neck with his lips. He followed the curve of her shoulder to the trim of her black lace bra, down the strap, along with the tops of her breast and licked and sucked her at her cleavage.
His tongue was as devilish on her skin as it was in the speech. He truly had a talent for making her burn, making her yearn and want more. It was what had gotten them to this point; From the time he had tended her wound at the top of the bean stock with his teeth to the time he had declared his intention of winning her heart in Neverland she knew that she would fall victim to his sweet mouth. Whether through word or kisses Killian seemed to know how to coax out her wanton side, how to draw on her passions and lift them to the surface so that she was so full of need and wanting that she could think of thing else except for those lips on her, kissing her, tasting her.
Those lips were winning her over now. They danced across her skin over her abdomen as he knelt before her. He nipped and teased her skin at the hem of her pants as he slowly, torturously, pulled down her zipper. He kissed the exposed skin there before drawing his hands (well hand and hook) to the waist band and pulling them down. His lips followed their descent as he tasted the tops of her thigh, the bend of her knee and the curve of her calves.
She stepped back out of the pool of black denim and he glided his hand up her calf and pulled up one leg. Cupping it in the curve of his hook he used his other hand to pull down her black sock before repeating the motion on her other foot. Who knew taking off socks could be so erotic, but with the etching tingles of his lips on her skin, his beautiful intense eyes adoring each and every inch of her skin, his cold hook caressing her leg and the wonderful feeling of his hands upon her, anything he did to her could be thought of as sensual and wonderfully erotic.

"You know I can just magic these clothes away?" Emma said raising her brow as she looked down at Killian who was caressing her leg and kissing his way up toward her knee. She sighed as his stubble brushed her inner thigh.

"Where's the fun in that?” He was his perfectly ‘Hook’ reply. Emma laughed but it quickly changed into a dragged out sigh as his mouth kissed her through the black lace of her thong. Not where she was throbbing but close enough to make her squirm with desire.

"But," she heaved, "Now. It's my turn."

She had managed to get his leather vest off somewhere between the front door and the bedroom, but his shirt, through unbuttoned remained unfairly on his wonderfully masculine shoulders. She went to tug at it, to direct it off his body when he stopped her.

"I uh, this has to come off first." He said eyes darting uncomfortably to this hook. He went to move his hand to the instrument but she caught him first.

"May I?" She asked reaching for it.

" 'course, love." he gulped. She ran a finger along the curve of the polished metal and down to the point before retracing her path to its base. She took hold of the cold metal piece and twisted. She heard the click of the locking mechanism as it unlatched and she slowly withdrew it. She cradled it in her hand before reaching to put it on the low dresser behind him.

She felt his eyes on her every movement as she returned her attention back to his shirt and slowly pulled it down his arms and off over the end of his clubbed hand.
With his shirt removed she could see the planes of his muscles, coated, with a light brush of hair, his arms were taut and well defined. The curves of the muscles stirred a base attraction within her that was quickly met with a feeling of sympathy as she saw his apparatus latched to his arm with several tightly fastened buckles holding a long leather sleeve to his arm, with a rounded end designed to fit an attachment. In his case, usually his favoured hook, or for occasions when a hook was either to conspicuous or inappropriate, his false leather hand.

She brought her hands to his chest and ran them up over his shoulder his and down both arms. She stopped once she reached the top of his leather sleeve. She tentatively touched the first buckle and his hand came on top of her own.

"Emma?" She could hear the trepidation in his voice. He was nervous for her to touch him to see him for what he was. He couldn't use bravado or charm here. But that was good, what Emma wanted was Killian, the real Killian, the man, the flesh and bone, scars and all.

"Killian," She whispered as she moved to undo the buckle nearest his elbow. "You once told me that you loved every part of me." She kept going, loosening each fastening as she went. "Well I feel the same way about you, whether that part is a hook or no hook, you are beautiful."

She smiled up at him as the last buckle came apart. He smiled back at her, still uncertain, but she could see his resolve to surrender to her. She looked down at his arm and removed the sleeve. She felt a pang of concern for him as she saw that red lines on his skin. The sleeve had been so tight that it has dug into his skin. She thought she might cry with the emotion that over took her at the sight of what he endured every day. She ran her hands over the lines, trying to massage his poor arm and erase the evidence of his pain.

"Oh, Killian."

"I know, it's awful."

She realized he had misunderstood her concern. He thought she was repulsed by the sight of his missing hand when in reality, though it was jarring to see the place where his hand should be, and she felt very keenly what its loss had meant to him, she was not horrified by him in the least. He was heartbreakingly gorgeous in his vulnerability and she loved him for trusting her, for opening up to her.

"No," she took his arm and brought it up and caressed the end of his arm, the wrist that used to connected his hand. "I don't...the pain you have been through is awful, it hurts me to see what you deal with, because I never want to see those I care about suffer, but Killian, Love, you could never be awful." She brought the limb to her lips and kissed him gently, "This is a part of who you are, and what makes you the man I love."

He surprised her by taking her lips fiercely, responding to her love and her concern, repaying her kind words with action. She could feel the shift in him, he had pushed all doubt and concern away and was able to share his body and his passion with her.

He pushed them nearer the bed, kicking off his boots as they went.
She had to admit she liked him taking charge. She was so used to being the one leading, The Sheriff, 'the Saviour,' the rock that everyone else looked to for guidance. It was nice to let her mind wander and let her feelings take over as someone else took control. Especially if he was leading them to such a wonderful and sinful place. That's not to say she was passive by any means. She was a willing and active participant in this waltz. Just as in their time travelling adventure she had picked a partner who knew what he was doing, as demonstrated by his tongue as he licked and swirled it over her lips and around her tongue, drawing out her passion and her desire.

She felt her legs hit the padded ottoman at the foot of the bed. Her stomach flipped at the thought of actually being with him. Now that she was here, physically touching him, the bed so near, she realized this was going to happen. They had waited so long, been distracted by ice monsters and dark wizards, gods and more, and now that he was here she couldn't understand why they hadn't just snuck off in the middle of one of these crazy encounters to be together.
He had always talked about enjoying the moments, finding the time to create happy memories between them and thought she had heard him she had never really followed through and before she realized he had been taken from her, died to save them all, without her ever sharing this with him. But she had learned something in all that time and she wasn't going to make the same mistake now that he was back.

He leaned in hard against her as he pressed her down into the ottoman and kissed her. She loved the way she felt so soft and feminine against his hard masculine body. He had a strange talent for doing that to her when habit and circumstance made her hard defensive, he could draw out the soft and the tender.
Right now she was just about as soft as she could be. The way he touched her, caressed her down her back and along her spine was making her go weak. As she tried to concentrate on anything except the feeling of her legs turning to jello she realized her bra was sliding down her arms and onto the floor.

He laughed when she looked up at him in amazement.

"What I may lack in quantity they more than makeup for with dexterity." He said with a wink trailing his index finger around her shoulder, down her collar, between her breasts and circling around her navel before travelling back up to her breasts.

It felt so good to be touched. She hadn’t realized the lack of it, hadn’t realized the constant comfort he provided her throughout their day and their many adventures. He was always there with loving and open arms with a caress, a kiss or an embrace. Now he was not only touching her with tenderness but with passion as well and she realized exactly how much she had missed, no needed, passion.

He knelt before her, his hand caressing her legs, up and down her thigh in a ticklish but wonderful sensation. While his hand was soothing his tongue, however, was setting her skin on fire. His mouth had seized on her bare breasts and set to work on driving her mad. He kissed her skin delicately, teasing, arousing goosebumps on her already sensitive skin. His mouth nibbling and licking creating such wonderful sensations of wet and soft, and his stubble and teeth rough and tickling.
He used restraint and eagerness, sweet and dark. Just like Killian himself. He was a man of opposite yet equally compelling traits and, translated into action, created a perfect storm of lust and passion.

His tongue teased at her navel circling it around and back again. He nibbled at the dampened skin playfully tugging at it. She liked when he played with her. But when his eyes met her's with a reverence so full of appreciation and adoration her stomach hollowed, overcome by emotion.

She sat up and slid down off the ottoman and into his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck she pulled him close. She could feel his arousal as her hips curved into his. She bit her lip in anticipation of events to come and heard a guttural growl deep in his throat.

“Swan.” He groaned as if she were torturing him. And in a way, she was, sitting on him but separated by layers of clothing, her body so near his own but not joined. The anticipation acute but it was also sweet and she wanted to savour it a moment longer.
She shifted on top of him, her breasts swerving in 'S' like motions pressed up against his chest. She leaned her head in and kissed her way along his shoulder and up to his ear. She kissed the lobe then grabbed it with her teeth, tugged and then kissed it again.
His hand caught her waist at the motion and dug into her skin. She pulled back with a wry smile on her face.

“Captain?’ she flirted biting her lip once more.

“God, I don't know what I’m going to do with you, siren.”

She smiled at the passion behind his eyes for an instant, being the pirate that he was, he stole her breath as his mouth came upon hers and took hold of her teasing lip. He teasingly pulled it between his teeth, sucking on it, she squirmed playfully trying to escape but found she couldn't. His hand had taken hold of her head and with all the savage lust of the old Hook and devoured her.

They came together grasping and pulling, gulping for air between each smash of his lips on hers or a rake of her nails down his arms. She involuntarily dug her hips into his, driven by a need to get closer to him, to move against him, to feel him beneath her.

His fingers snaked through her hair and cradling her turned her over and without breaking the kiss pushed her down on to the rug.
He gently laid her head down and ran his hand down her cheek. Looming over her, face half in shadow and cast by the fire on their side, he looked like a dark pirate. Like the villain, she had climbed the beanstalk with. But the caress of his hand on her cheek and the smile on his lips was every bit the hero Killian that she knew and loved. Both sides were a part of him and both sides excited and thrilled her.

She reached up a hand to cup his face. There was love there, but there was also something more, a desperate need, one that she could match in kind. The need to be connected, the need to touch, to ensure that they other was truly there, to know that after such hard times, such separation and loss that what they were experiencing and feeling right now was real. She touched his chest wanting and feel his beating heart.
The feeling made her eyes water at the thought of what their hearts had endured. She had tried so hard to find him one, even attempting to split her own and give him half. They had weighed her own heart as a measure of their true love. After all that they had still had to part. It was the most difficult thing she had ever done, leaving him down in that tunnel, but now he was here, he was back, and he was looking at her the way he always had. They could find a way back to what they were and a way forward, together.

She strained her neck upwards and kissed him sweetly with love on her lips mingled with a need for him. Just as in the graveyard today she had resolved to hold nothing back. She wanted for once to feel everything. She wanted to take down her walls for him and be completely open. So she kissed him, it was a kiss that shared herself, that gave him permission to see her, all of her, for what and who she was, no wall, no armour, just Emma.

His hand came to cup her face and as he attempted to pull back and out of the kiss she felt a tear run down her face.

He endearingly kissed her cheek to catch the tear. He slowly made his way down her cheek to her ear, lingered a moment as he whispered her name.

"Emma."

It was not a question or an oath of passion, but rather a statement and acknowledgment of who she was. She would have returned the statement in kind if he had not just then moved his wicked mouth to her nipple sucking it between his gorgeous lips. So instead of a sweet reply, she breathed a sigh that vaguely sounded like 'Killian.'

He played her like a virtuoso and she was his instrument and she hit each note as his lips touched her and his fingers touched her. Each glide of his finger sent her head reeling. By the time he had finished his sinful tune she was panting out of breath and eager for more.

She raked her nails up and down his arms urging him on begging for more. His body was set between her legs while his hand was rallying her senses. Her legs came up to embrace him wrapping him up and encircling his body.

Not being one to miss an opportunity he took hold of her leg. His lips distracted her kissing her middle as his hand trailed a molten path along the outside of her thighs, over and around her calves and back up again. He cupped her at the back of her knees and circled her skin with his thumb. Her hips were moving wildly of their own volition as he tortured her. In order to accommodate her needs he removed his hand from her leg but only after he had replaced it with his lips. He tenderly and sweetly kissed the warm skin at the bend on her leg as his hand gave her what she really wanted caressing her hot centre.
His fingers moved swiftly as they sought to bring her the stimulation of friction she craved. The rough decisive motions of his hand mixed with the soft butterfly kisses on her leg sent shivers directly to her core and making her more eager, ready for what was to come.

"Killian." She pleaded.

"Yes?" Was his reply. His hand cupped and teasingly played with the lace of her underwear as he awaited the rest of her plea.

"More." Was the only word she could think of her mind so raddled that she could speak only in sensations and desire.

He rubbed her, creating a glorious friction. The warmth and the rough feeling of the fabric against the nub that at once seemed so utterly demanding were wonderful. He played with her there for a moment before brazenly going beneath the fabric of the garment to her warm slick folds. His fingers kneaded and danced around her, in her, encouraging her in her passion.

She bucked and moaned with each stroke as he hit every nerve and every spot with such precision that she was sent reeling.

“Yes…oh, Killlian." His hand went down and over the waist band and searched to find a new angle. Realizing that he needed to remove the impediment of her annoying, though thankfully sexy, pair of black lace panties Killian inched the fabric off of her and tossed them aside. The way that his hungry eyes looked back at her after accomplishing the feet of baring her completely was entirely too alluring.

"Killian," Emma said and she reached up and took his face his her cupped hand. Her forehead rested against his and they sat together a moment breathing each other.
He kissed her and she thought she might become into acted with the taste of him as he laid her back once more and laid between her legs.

He moaned and his hand was everywhere, her breasts, her hips, her legs, the intensity of the movement had spread to his own desires and he was just as eager and ready as she.

"Uh Love, do I need...I mean..." He looked down at his erect cock.

It took her a second to realize what he meant. "Oh! No, ah,” she moaned. "It's. Fine. I'm. Good."

"Thank..." He couldn't even finish the sentence before she took his mouth back, for it was not his to use anymore but rather hers and she wasn't done with those beautiful lips and nor would she stand for anything that took them away from her. She had been on the pill for years now. She loved Henry, but she had learned a valuable lesson about contraception after being surprised with a pregnancy while incarcerated and the next time, if there was a next time, she wanted more choice in terms of the where's when's and with whom's.

With that taken care of, she returned her attention to the hard body in her arms and the way his hands were thrusting inside her in a meager demonstration of what was to come.

He groaned, ”Love, my love,” and she smiled at the endearment and the declaration and caught his eye just as she felt him resting at her entrance. She wasn't sure if it was permission or reassurance that he was looking for before they took this next step but she gave him both with a lick of her lips and a small nod and then he was inside her.

The sensation was so sweet and so wonderful that she let out a loud gasp of relief, of pleasure and of accomplishment. Finally.
Why had it taken so long and so much for them to finally get to this moment? It felt so right to have him here with her so, so good.

She moaned as he began to move in earnest. Any reservations she had had about the two of them coming to get her in this way quickly flew out of her mind as well as any other coherent thought beyond this man and the wonderful things he was doing to her. He ground against her pushing deep and hard inside of her. She arched her back at the power of his thrust and called out. She could not be sure what she said but she heard her own name or something like it escape his lips and she laughed knowing that he had been right all along. She did want him and he had won her heart just as he had taunted all those years ago. But as he continued to move deeper and deeper inside her the humour in that statement was quickly replaced by a carnal acknowledgment his talents.
But it was not only his cock that made her cry out, though it was truly wonderful and was currently sending shivers of pleasure down her spine, but, joined as they were, cradled in each other's arms she felt him; Him, Killian Jones and she loved him.
As she sighed and moaned she ran her hands up and down his arms, over his back and cupped his bottom. Her fingers dug into his skin leaving white trails of pressure and passion along with his perfectly shaped gluteus.

"Minx." He cried out between thrusts."Wench!" She giggled at his teasing taunts.

He brought his lips to suckle at her neck as the pace increased. "Love." Murmured into her skin and into her heart. She had always loved it when he called her that, from the very beginning it gave her chills and made her feel like she belonged. It drew her to him and fuelled her dreams of having someone to truly know her and care for her. And in this room, in this way, it made her whole body shake and brought her to the brink.

She felt something in the pit of her stomach building, growing, tightening, a pressure and a tingling deep inside her that wanted to be released. She needed him, need more, just needed. Her body was in control now not her mind and she was at the mercy of her passions.

She smiled a ‘Saviour’ smile at Killian before taking hold of his shoulders and pushing him over and onto his back. She quickly straddled on top of him and with out missing a beat glided down on top of him and took him inside her.

"Ah." She cried as her body stretched to accommodate him. Once inside she threw her head back and took a moment to truly appreciate the feeling of him. he was hard, hot and wonderfully fitted to her. She felt like a primitive being worshiping the primal, the sensual and she took a breath and closed her eyes to indulge in it before slowly dropping her chin and taking in the sight of Killian Jones, Captain Hook, lying beneath her.

She unhurriedly made her way up his form treating herself to a long indulgent visual feast as she devoured the sight of his pelvic muscles tight and throbbing as she squeezed him inside her. The next course was his beautifully carved abs which she couldn't help but run her hands over enjoying the solid rise and fall of the well defined but very inviting muscles. Her hands now lead a tactile expedition as they continued their consumption of his glorious form. His chest was sprinkled with masculine hairs that were soft and slightly ticklish to the touch.
Lastly, she met his eyes and she smiled once more. He raised his left eyebrow in that wonderful coquettish way of his that always made her laugh and often made her wonder exactly what he would do to her if she let him follow whatever devious thoughts were running through his mind.

She ground on him in a slow circular motion, once and then again.

"It appears I have picked the perfect partner. Agh." He growled. "Because she cer...certainly knows what she is doing."

She laughed and began to ride him in earnest. She maintained a slow pace wanting to prolong the wonderful sensation of having him inside her but also so that she did not become too distracted too quickly and lose all sense of where she was and who she was with. She wanted to watch him as she moved on top of him, to see exactly what pleasures she was wreaking upon her pirate.

She slowly lifted herself off of him, held herself aloft for a moment, caught his gaze, then sank back down on him and ground back and forth increasing in pace and intensity.

"Mercy, Swan. If you could but see yourself as I..." She liked drawing out each and every groan and moan from him. “…I do.”
His hands moved over her thighs and up to her waist where they took hold and he brought himself up.

She was cradled back in his arms, face to face. He took back control, or rather, they met each other in their passions, neither one was in the lead, they matched each other, found a rhythm together that was neither too fast or too slow, too gentle or too deep. His body rocked up into hers and she arched and absorbed him. She slid down onto him and he met her with a powerful thrust.
Their breathing became more and more shallow. Emma could feel herself slipping away and her lips liquefy. She melted against his powerful form and cradled herself into his shoulder once more a blanket of flesh on flesh. She kissed the skin at the nape of his neck but mostly she held on tight and tried to feel every inch of her skin where it was connected with his. Her neck felt the smooth skin of his shoulders, her breasts felt the tickle of his hair, her back seared with two warm strong iron bars enfolding her, keeping her wrapped tightly in their embrace. After such turmoil and sadness, after separation and the despair of loss, the assurance of his skin against hers keeping her here with him felt better than she could say. It felt like home.

"Killian!" She cried out as her body embraced him, hard and throbbing. He had hit a particularly sensitive spot near the front of her abdomen and a shiver ran all the way down her from the hair on her head to the tips of her toes.

He took hold of her beneath her arms as she leaned back, eyes closed and chin lifted to the sky. As she arched back his tongue danced down her neck, chest and to her pink nipples waiting to be touched. He flicked and kissed her breasts and her body flinched at the intensity.
When she caught her breath she brought her sleepy eyes back to his face and her heart almost broke at the love shining through his eyes.

"I..." She started as he again hit that special spot. She couldn't speak. Her voice had been stolen by passion and the only way she could speak was through her body. She took hold of his shoulders and ground into him, again him, she squeezed her walls to take him in deeper, urging in on way, taking them higher and deeper in their connection. They were both sweating and panting as they strove onwards into oblivion. She clutched him as she felt her orgasm building. She was clawing trying to find a foothold, something to ground her, to brace her for the wave she could feel was coming.

He pushed her back hard into the floor and dug his cock deep inside her trying to get her, to get them, to the place they desperately wanted to go. She scratched at his back trying to bring him closer, she wanted to press him against her into her anything that would help them breach the walls of all the physical barriers and come together.

She called out for release she looked into his beautiful blue eyes and got lost in their depths. When she stopped struggling to be released from them and instead allowed herself to become a part of them, part of him, the power of her release was so overwhelming that her vision clouded and blurred and she felt as if she had jumped into a great ocean. Tiny bubbles ran all over her skin tickling and tingling. She giggled at the feeling as they ran over the arches of her feet, the small of her back, the bridge of her nose and the strands of her hair. The sensations were wonderful but she felt a strong need to find something. She remembered a vague helpful notion that you were supposed to follow the bubbles to find the surface. When she finally broke through the current and took in the gasp of air she felt the warmth of the sun on her face. The sun, now that her vision and some of her sanity was returning, was Killian. He was there with her, on top of her, his face lying flat on the floor and his blue eyes casting rays of love and satisfaction outwards her, warming her, welcoming her home.
She realized that the sensation of water was not just some fevered orgasm dream but there was, in fact, a tear running down her face. Just as he had earlier Killian kissed away the salty tear from her cheek and smiled into her skin.

Emma groaned in protest as Killian shifted away from her. She almost cried out her protests when he separated himself from her and seemed as if he was leaving their cozy spot on the floor. But she was relieved when he grabbed the decorative but wonderfully cozy faux fur throw from the bed and wrapped the two of them up in it like a burrito, a sex burrito.

Emma giggled to herself at what utter garbage her mind came up with in the aftermath of such a mind altering orgasmic experience as she had just had.

"I think that sound is my second favourite in the world." Said, Killian, as his fingers, danced between her own. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"Oh, Ya?"

"Mmm."

Emma sat up indignant and stared into his eyes urging him to elaborate. "And your number one favourite sound?"

"The one you make just as you are about to..."

"Killian!"

"...Or maybe it's the way my name sounds on your lips when I am deep inside you."

Emma laughed at the impossible rapscallion beneath her and though she blushed she filed that little bit of information away for future reference.

They eventually made it to the bed and they lay together in comfortable silence, playing and rubbing and tracing the other with their fingers and enjoying the rare moment of complete and total happiness.
They were lying face to face, nose to nose, and Emma caught herself in an odd thought and attempted to bat it away. But Killian, being annoyingly observant as he was, knew all too well when ever she was hiding something from her and he endeavored to draw whatever it was out.

"What is it, love?"

"It's just,” She hesitated, “that I really missed you."

Not moving his chin but stretching his lips he kissed her in a playfully. "I know, I missed you too."

She smiled at him. That wasn't what she meant. "No! Like really missed you. Do you remember that day in the park before our little time travel adventure?"

She could see the scene as it played in his mind and smiled when he finally reached the conclusion she was making. With a noticeable bob of his Adam's apple, she could see the emotion catch up to him.

"I'm home. You are my home." She said with all honesty, sincerity and without reservation.

He blinked and held his lids tightly closed but not before she caught the way his eyes had watered. Her's threatened to do the same and before she could become the blubbering mess she had been all day today she did the only thing she could think of to stop it and kissed Killian senseless. By the time they broke apart they had quickly bypassed sentiment and were quickly rounding on passion once more.

"I love you." Whispered Emma.

"I love you too. You are my home, where I belong."

- - -

They eventually, after much groaning and sound arguments that they could, in fact, lay there in front of the fire naked all day, got dressed and made themselves look respectable. After a thorough going over in the mirror Emma didn't think that she looked like someone who had spent the past hour or more deep in the throws of toe curling-bone melting passion, but she would have to do something about the constant smile on her lips and the satisfied boyish grin that Killian seemed to be sporting. If they walked into the reception like this regardless of how many times she had fixed her hair or retouched her makeup everyone would know exactly what had kept her.
She didn't want everyone to know, not everything, not yet. She would have to be careful how she broke the news. Her heart lurched at the thought of Killian's return being the cause of any harm to anyone. It was such as wonderful and miraculous thing and she wanted to celebrate it and to shout out loud how happy she was. But she also knew she was not alone in this small and crazy town in having deep and meaningful feelings or someone she loved. Regina had lost her own happy ending and many other people had lost a friend, and one a father.
As they walked down the street hand in hand Emma tried to absorb as much of the wonderful feeling of having Killian back again as she could all the while hatching a plan to break it to her best friend that although Robin, her own love, had died, Emma's had been returned to her. Though she would never be able to give him up now that he was back Emma regretted the imbalance of the situation and the inevitable pain she would cause because of as much as she tried she knew she could not contain her happiness.
Her heart and her home had been returned to her and as ‘The Saviour’ and ‘Emma-freaking-Swan’ she swore no one would ever take that away from her again.