"The first time it had happened had been shortly after their return from Neverland—she had showed up on his ship feeling slightly lost and a little desperate and had begged him to take her. The first time had been hard and fast and frantic. Thinking about it, even now, her body trembled and her pulse picked up in pace, the hot images of him pressing her into the bed and driving himself into her, flashing before her eyes. She had left him almost immediately after, telling him it had been a one-time thing. Even then she had known she was speaking a blatant lie."

~Mine

The First Time

Emma stared up at the grand ship—it stood tall, proud, majestic. Being so near to it again, she couldn't help but think of Neverland—the pain, the beauty, the terror and ultimately…the hope.

They had gotten back less than a week ago and since then she had been restless—she felt drained, bare and vacant. The shock and awe of their trip was slowly starting to wear off and where she knew she should feel ecstatic and happy to finally have her family all safely back with her in Storybrooke—she felt lost.

For days she had wandered around in a slightly foggy haze, pasting an all too fake smile on her face and saying words she knew her family and friends needed to hear…

I'm fine.

I'm happy.

We're safe.

I love you too.

I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.

She repeated the phrases like a mantra, hiding the emptiness that had settled itself within her.

Thinking about it, she wasn't sure why she felt the way she did—she had attempted to ease her worries, reminding herself that Neverland had taken its toll on her, draining her both mentally and physically—feeling out of sorts was to be expected. Still, even with those assurances circling comfortingly in her head, the need for something to take away the emptiness, to make her feel something, anything, had continued to grow. And with the desire to fill the all-consuming void resonating throughout her, urging her into motion, she had found herself walking blindly—wandering around town, until eventually she had ended up at the docks, standing in front of the Jolly Roger, staring hard at the large vessel and considering what awaited her below it's sun soaked decks.

Him.

Hook.

Taking in a deep breath she pushed herself forward, tentatively boarding the eerily quiet ship with soft hesitant steps. The moment her heeled boot made contact with the smooth wood, something odd rushed through her veins—a jolting spark shot down her body, followed by a slow and soothing wave of calmness…acceptance. And taking note of her body's odd reaction—the terrifying and thrilling feeling of coming home, Emma swallowed over the sudden tightness in her throat while continuing to move forward, the clink of her feet padding across the ship's planks sounding like thunder, the silence that surrounded her was so deafening. Quickly walking in the direction of the cabins she tried to ignore the panicked voice in her head that was questioning her motives—what was she doing, why was she there, what were her intentions—and instead continued to move on, intent on making it to her destination before chickening out.

Of what she'd be backing out of, she was still uncertain.

Making her way through the ship, the smell and sights oddly familiar and welcoming, she came to a stop in front of his cabin. And seeing that the door was slightly ajar, Emma paused for a moment, staring at it curiously as she strained her ears, listening for any sound of movement on the other side. Holding her breath she waited a heartbeat or two and hearing nothing debated on turning around and going back, a large part of her still demanding answers, still unsure what she was doing on his ship in the first place. Suddenly uncomfortable, she shuffled from foot to foot and weighing her options, drew her lower lip into her mouth biting on it lightly as she attempted to sort out her frenzied thoughts.

Something had driven her forward taking her here.

Something had compelled her to come to him.

There had to be a reason for it.

Giving herself a moment, she closed her eyes and placed her palm on the door, running her fingers down the wood lightly before, with a deep breath and a slight nod, she pushed it all the way open, her eyes widening fractionally when she saw that his cabin was empty—Hook nowhere to be seen. Briefly she debated leaving, for a second she considered his absence—perhaps it was giving her an out, preventing her from doing or saying anything rash, allowing her to leave before he found her.

But tired of taking the overly cautious route, too indifferent to really care, she walked into the room, the smell of rich leather, dark rum, and something spicy and uniquely him hitting her senses hard. Scanning the small area before her, she let her eyes roam over every inch of it while slowly making her way towards his desk, running idle fingers across the polished mahogany as she stopped in front of it. And glancing at the scattered maps that lay strewn across its surface, she couldn't help but remember the last time she'd stood in his cabin, standing over his desk, with her temper flaring and her doubts mounting.

"This map is useless," she muttered, her tone laced with both desperation and annoyance.

Throwing the worn and yellowed paper on the desk, she turned to him, scowling as he merely raised a sharp brow at her, his eyes briefly flitting over to the map she had so carelessly tossed aside.

"Yes, well, I suppose an enchanted map is useless to one who doesn't know how to properly read it." He mused, his voice holding a hint of humor and slight reproach.

Narrowing her eyes at him, she scowled and placing her hands on her hips, attempted to keep her balance as her vision wavered before her and her head spun somewhat dizzyingly. She was tired. She hadn't slept in days and had barely eaten anything of substance since they had left for Neverland—her worry for Henry consuming her entirely.

"We should be out there looking for him! Not sitting on your ship pouring over maps that make no sense."

Leaning against the wall, he gave her a pointed look, his expression somewhat patronizing. "I suppose you are forgetting about the storm that rages on outside."

"A little rain shouldn't be stopping me from finding my son!"

"Aye a little rain perhaps, but this is a Neverland storm, sweetheart. They don't happen often, but when they do you'd be wise to stay out of its wrath. If we venture out now, we'd only be putting ourselves in danger, shattering any hope we have at recovering your son."

Almost as if on cue the wind began to howl loudly, the rain battered against the ship in harsh and punishing sheets, and the rumble and roar of angry thunder crashing and growling above them had the wooden planks beneath her feet trembling lightly with the vibrating sound. Shoulders dropping in defeat, Emma shook her head, her thoughts immediately drifting to Henry as another clap of thunder shook the Jolly Roger. And almost as if sensing the dark turn in her mind, she saw Hook straighten his stance, his eyes softening considerably, his mouth dipping into a slight frown.

"He's with the lost boys darling…they know how to handle a burden like this. They're fine."

"You don't know that." She whispered, her tone low and trembling.

Raising a brow, he merely gave her a crooked smile before pushing away from the wall and heading towards the door. Stopping in front of it, she watched as he waited for a moment or two before turning back around to face her, leveling her with his bright blue stare. "Actually love, I do. They would have sensed the impending storm long before it hit. They're safely tucked away somewhere snug and warm by now." Running his eyes up and down her slumped figure he made a tisking noise, "Now…you haven't had a bit of rest since you boarded my ship. So I'll be leaving you. Don't step foot outside this room until I come get you. Sleep."

She arched an eyebrow at his simple request, "I'm not tired."

It was a lie, but she hated anyone, especially him, telling her what to do.

"That's a boldfaced lie Swan and we both know it, go to sleep or so help me I'll tie you to my blasted bed with those sodding cuffs you seem to hold so dear to you."

Her cheeks heated at his words, the lingering implications hanging in the air between them. And feeling her body tense and her spine going straight, she leveled him with an even glare. "And just who the hell do you think you are?"

The smile he gave her was cool, calculating, and unflinching. "Princess haven't I ever told you how things work on my ship?"

Irritated by his newest nickname for her, she merely cocked her head to the side with a scowl, and crossing her arms over her chest, shot him a humorless smile, waiting for him to continue.

"It's quite simple really. I make the demands. You follow them."

His smug smirk was infuriating and feeling slightly enraged by his casually said words, Emma opened her mouth to say something, but he raised his good hand, stopping her with one simple and piercing look.

"No don't fight me love…please do us both a favor and get into bed, you and I both know you need your rest before we continue our search, it'll do you no good to argue…it'll do Henry no good for you to argue."

At the mention of her son, she felt the blood drain from her face as a shiver rippled through her body, and apparently seeing he had struck a nerve, he nodded at her once before turning on his heel and opening the cabin door—his simple movements somehow managing to be both over exaggerated and smooth all at once.

"And Emma…" he shot her a look over his shoulder and flashed her a smile that was both incredibly wicked and undoubtedly seductive, " the next time I have you in my cabin, in my bed…it won't be for sleep. Although I can assure you, you'll be quite blissfully exhausted when I'm through with you…make no mistake about that."

Somewhat shocked by the blatant words, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, even while the blood that flowed through her traitorous body went hot with something that very closely resembled need and desire.

And seemingly satisfied by her stunned expression, he allowed his gaze to linger up and down her body for a moment longer, before shooting her an maddening wink, and leaving her speechless—anger and the stirrings of something too terrifying to admit to heating her from the inside out.

Too tired to chase after him with a sharp retort, too weary to blatantly defy his poorly worded demand, she huffed a sigh and shuffled over to the bed almost without thought. Damn him, he was right anyway—she needed sleep, it wouldn't do Henry any good to have her wandering around Neverland like the walking dead.

So it was with another reluctant sigh that she found herself tentatively sitting on the edge of the mattress and lowering her head to the soft welcoming pillow—her eyes drooping almost immediately, her breathing evening out within seconds.

And trying to block out her concern and fears, attempting to forget that she was in Neverland, pretending that she was anywhere but in his bed, she let exhaustion overtake her—the sway of the ship, the sound of the storm, and the lingering scent of him luring her into a much-needed sleep…

"Well, well, well do my eyes deceive me Swan or have you finally come to your senses?"

Her thoughts scattering, Emma turned around on a gasp, eyes widening as her gaze sought and quickly found him. He was casually leaning outside the doorway, his arms crossed in front of him, his blue eyes staring her up and down. At his sudden appearance, surprise, alarm, annoyance, and excitement all slowly bubbled up inside of her, taking her by surprise. And with a dim sense of awe she realized that seeing him, being in his presence for mere seconds, had brought on more emotions and feelings than anything else since returning from Neverland.

Turning the revelation over in her mind, silently she stared at him, her head tilting to the side as her eyes drank in the sight of him, roaming over his dark somewhat dangerous features. Typical Hook, he radiated a smug confidence, the commanding aura irritating her while also lighting something inside of her—a warm feeling coming to life deep in her belly and slowly spreading throughout her body.

Pushing away from the door, he flashed her a roguish smile and as he idly walked towards her, he fiddled with the tip of his hook, seemingly unconcerned by her silence. "I figured it'd only be a matter of time before you came to me darling, although I confess I was hoping you'd put up more of a fight. You do know how I love a challenge." There was a teasing light in his eyes, the tiny smirk that dusted his lips softening his features.

Emma wanted to scowl at him, to scoff at the ridiculousness of his implications while rolling her eyes to the ceiling and muttering a curse. She wanted to deny that the reason she was in his cabin had anything to do with him—stubbornly stating she had simply found herself there by mistake. But instead of spouting off the absurd claims, a soothing feeling washed over her chasing the urge away, his presence putting her on edge while simultaneously comforting her. And for reasons unbeknownst to her, abruptly she began to tremble, her body tingling slightly, her head suddenly dizzy

"Hook." She whispered softly, her hushed tone stopping him in his tracks, the light in his eyes faded and something that closely resembled concern replaced it fast.

"Emma, what is it?"

The way he said her name, his lilting voice wrapping around the syllables gently, drawing it out and caressing it softly, had a shudder rippling through her. And closing her eyes, she once again questioned what she was doing on his ship, in his cabin, standing before him—the feeling of frantic and frightening desperation coursing through her jarringly.

And just as quickly as the question came, the answer swiftly followed.

She wanted to feel.

She needed to feel.

"Hook." She said his name again, and stepping forward, she opened her eyes on a shaky breath.

He peered at her curiously, his sea colored gaze narrowing slightly, his features tightening into a wary expression.

But before he could question her, she picked up her pace, moving fast and closing the distance between them quickly. "I need to feel something." She whispered, stopping in front of him. The heat of his body, the scent of warm leather and strong rum hung in the air, all gently wrapped together with the hint of salt and sea.

"What the devil are—"

Unwilling to give him the chance to finish, she raised herself on her tiptoes and kissed him hard—shock, lust, awe, desire, need—all shooting through her swiftly, the surprise from it causing her to let out a startled little gasp. Almost immediately he tensed with the action, his body going rigid even as his lips moved freely over hers, greedily accepting her kiss. And needing to feel more, desperate for it, she lifted her hands and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her, paying no mind to the voice in her head that was screaming at her, questioning her actions and demanding answers.

But her brain still foggy, confused, and out of sorts, ignored it.

After only a moment's hesitation, his arms wrapped around her waist, resting low on her hips. With a quick jerk he pulled her even closer to him, slamming her body into his and causing a low whimper to escape her lips. And as the tiny noise left her mouth he thrust his tongue inside, immediately dueling with hers for dominance as they both tasted and clung to each other with frantic and poorly concealed need.

"Gods, Emma, " he whispered, his breath feathering hotly across her lips as he pulled his head back and stared down at her, his eyes a burning and nearly frightening blue. "What are you after?" he questioned softly in his velvet voice, their arms still wrapped around each other, their bodies intimately pressed together.

Shaking her head, she tried to ignore the hot blush that was slowly creeping its way up her neck, and swallowing thickly, she bit her lip, noting how his eyes drifted to her mouth with the action. "I just need to feel something."

He stared at her hard, seemingly considering her answer carefully, "What are you talking about lass?"

"Make me feel something."

"Emma—"

"Please." She loathed the fact that she was begging him, she hated him for making her.

He arched a brow at her, confusion flitting across his features. "What are you asking of me?"

"You're seriously going to make me spell it out for you?"

"I'm merely asking—"

"Fuck me. Just…God…that's all you ever talk about so just do it. Fuck me."

It was a harsh and crass request—the crudely said words hung in the air, surprising them both. And as they echoed softly in her head, both taunting and embarrassing her, she struggled not to break eye contact—instead she stared him down, silently challenging him to back away from her blunt demand.

"Is that what you want?" his hypnotizing voice was low, barely above a hushed whisper.

"Yes." She said, her heart leaping wildly with the word, her body trembling slightly.

He didn't say anything for a moment—his mouth turned down into a slight frown as his stormy eyes searched hers curiously. And ever defiant, she lifted her chin, raising a brow and refusing to back down.

"Very well darling."

And before she could say anything else, before she could second-guess herself, he was kissing her again. Only this time it was ruthless and almost punishing—his lips brutally claimed hers, his fingers dug into her hip, his hook pressed hotly against her back. Moaning into his mouth, she reveled in the feeling of being held by him, allowing herself a moment to enjoy the thrill and excitement of the harsh kiss. But all too soon he pulled back again, and the whimper of protest that tumbled from her had a somewhat cruel smirk lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Remove your clothes Emma."

Her eyes shot to his in surprise as he slowly unwrapped his arms from around her waist and gently pushed her away from him, the look on his face both expectant and slightly impatient. And refusing to allow her nerves to get the best of her, she held his stare—mentally demanding she show no weakness. Squaring her shoulders, she kicked off her boots, watching as he drew his sword, and placed it on the ground next to him. With shaky fingers, she lifted the hem of her sweater and whipped it over her head, noting as he undid the buttons of his shirt without looking away from her—his good hand steady and sure. Frantically she pulled her jeans down, her heart pounding so hard she could feel the beats in her throat. And when she stood before him, clad only in her bra and underwear, her body began to tremble almost uncontrollably as something dark and somewhat sinister flashed in his eyes.

"Now get on the bed." his tone was rough, his voice gravelly and hoarse.

Feeling a bit of her backbone come back to her, she cocked her head to the side and raised a brow, shooting him an unamused look. "Seriously?"

He matched her incredulous glare with one of his own, his eyes never wavering from her face. "Well you asked me to…fuck you…isn't that right?" He paused; giving his words a chance to hang in the air—her challenging stance faltered slightly, her cool gaze avoided his. "Truth be told sweetheart, I'm quite well practiced in the many ways of lovemaking, so I suppose if you wanted to we could stay standing, I just thought perhaps…"

"Shut-up." She muttered, her cheeks going hot as she cut him off.

And refusing to let him get under her skin, she turned from him and stomped over to the bed, unhooking her bra as she walked away. With a tiny smirk she threw the lingerie over her shoulder, a thrill of satisfaction rushing through her when she heard his sudden and sharp intake of breath behind her. Glancing over at him, she stumbled a bit when she saw he had rid himself of his pants and was staring at her with a predatory gleam in his eyes. And facing him, the back of her legs brushed the bed, and her hands clenched involuntarily as he stalked over to her, his eyes burning into hers—the passion and heat simmering there a forewarning of what was to come.

When he stopped in front of her, she opened her mouth to say something to lighten the mood, but he simply grabbed her, pulling her towards him and kissing her again—effectively clearing her mind of any and all coherent thoughts. Ravishing her mouth, his stubble scraped the sensitive skin across her jaw and his tongue warred with hers. She tried to keep up with him, attempting to give as good as she got, clinging to him tightly and kissing him with everything in her. But he was ruthless and unyielding, and even as she found herself gasping for breath, still desperate for more she clung to him, unwilling to pull away. Abruptly she felt him pushing her down, her world shifted and moved until suddenly the mattress was at her back and she was lying on the bed, looking up at him as he hovered over her. And again he didn't allow her a chance to say anything; instead he lowered his head, his mouth finding the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met.

As he scraped and soothed with lips, teeth, and tongue, she closed her eyes, fisting her hands in his hair, trying to block out the feeling of his bare skin heavily pressed against hers, afraid if she concentrated on it too much the sudden and roaring fire in her would burn even brighter causing her to combust into flames beneath him.

"Emma."

He whispered her name against her skin, the sound causing her eyes to flash open as her hips canted upwards in response, a gasp falling from her lips as her body pushed into his. She could feel him tense in her arms, a low growling sound hummed in his throat and his teeth nipped her skin, scratching her lightly and drawing a sigh from her. Closing her eyes once more, she moved her hips towards him again and the answering dark chuckle he gave her had butterflies stirring to life in her belly as tingles danced across her skin and a flush crept over her cheeks.

Then he began to move lower.

His lips trailed down her skin, his tongue darting out every so often and licking her, his teeth continuing to nip and bite at random. Shaking her head she attempted to pull him back up, needing him to stop toying with her, desperate for him to just do what she had asked him to do and get it over with—the aching need between her legs so great she wasn't sure how much longer she could wait.

But he had other plans.

Shifting his weight he slid a knee in between her thighs, his busy mouth continuing to trail down her body, stopping only briefly at her breasts to pay quick and special attention to them. When he ran his tongue over her nipple drawing the tip into his mouth she flinched, gasping as he drew it further in before scraping his teeth lightly over the sensitive bud causing her to curse under her breath while reaching for him again. It was too intimate…too much. She hadn't asked for this. But she felt his lips merely curve into a smile against her skin as she tried to tug him upwards and ignoring her, he moved onto the next, repeating the same torturous ministrations once more.

"Hook," she gasped his name, moaning as he released her from his mouth and lifted his head slightly, the cool air of the cabin causing her to shiver when it hit her wet skin. "Stop…just I need…you have to…" she trailed off, having trouble forming a proper sentence.

At her broken and faltering words, the smile he gave her was unapologetic and more than a little evil. And raising a brow, he dipped his head once more. "Not yet darling, I'm going to savor this. And while I mean to have you." He glanced back up at her again, his eyes flashing a fiery blue. "First I'm going to make you beg properly."

Her breath hitched in her throat at his words. She wasn't sure what more he could want from her. She'd thrown herself at him, demanding he take her—what else did she have to give?

Apparently she had more…so, so much more.

His mouth slowly worked its way down her stomach, feathering light kisses across taut and quivering skin, and he hummed in appreciation as he got to the flimsy fabric of the underwear she still had on. "Red and black, Swan? A rather interesting choice." He murmured in a deeply amused voice, running a light finger over the rim, dipping it inside quickly and brushing the skin there before drawing it out again.

"Shut-up." She hissed and unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing the embarrassment that was most likely clear as day on her face, she kept her head tilted up towards the ceiling, praying to God he would stop torturing her soon, needing him to give her what she so badly craved.

When she felt the cool steel tip of his hook latch into her underwear she flinched, gripping the blankets beneath her tightly while attempting to control her breathing. Unnerved, she kept her eyes focused on the ceiling, biting her lip as he dragged the lingerie down slowly, his hook running down her skin with the action, leaving in its wake a trail of rising goose bumps.

She needed more.

And biting harder on her lip, drawing blood, she winced—savoring the pain, focusing on it so as not to beg, not to plead for him to give her what they both knew she wanted.

"Emma."

He whispered her name almost reverently and the sound of his hushed tone had her eyes drifting from their place above her, immediately seeking him out—he was watching her intently the intensity in his gaze nearly stealing her breath.

"Tell me you are sure."

Swallowing thickly, she took note of the whispered tones in the back of her head—some frantically pleading for her to grab her clothes and flee the ship while others urged her to take what she so desperately needed.

And continuing to meet his stare, refusing to look away, she nodded quickly. "I'm sure."

His expression gentled somewhat at her assurance even as his eyes darkened to a stormy and threatening blue, his good hand clenching tightly into a fist as the significance of what was about to occur hung heavily between them.

Still, they held each others stare—her gaze undoubtedly mirroring his—the hot challenge there only shadowed by the careful acceptance. And then, seemingly shaking himself from his brief daze, Hook flashed her a smile that could only be described as pure evil before moving fast and settling himself between her legs. With a little jump, she watched as he lowered his head to her, and before she could protest, a shuddering sigh escaped her as the feel of his tongue trailing up her inner thigh, moving ever closer to where she desperately needed him, took her by surprise.

When she had told him what she had wanted she had expected it hard, intense, and fast.

She hadn't expected him to take his time with her.

She hadn't expected this.

Crying out as his mouth closed over her, licking and sucking and parting her, she frantically shook her head from side to side, unable to keep up with the sensations that were assaulting her—her body quivering and her mind reeling from his sensual attack.

"Please." She whimpered, her hands moving of their own accord, finding their way to his head again and fisting into his hair tightly as his tongue continued to move over her, sweeping gently across her sensitive nub—liquid heat pooling deep inside of her, pleasure rapidly rising from within her. And as he paid special attention to her, his tongue moving fast across where she ached for him most, he made a humming noise in the back of his throat, the sound sending soft vibrations across her heated and oversensitive skin.

"Oh God please." She whispered, her voice raspy and almost unrecognizable—she couldn't keep up with what he was doing to her, her body and mind seemingly shot to another place entirely.

At her obvious desperation she felt rather than saw him smile, and when he brought his fingers to her, she wasn't sure how much longer she could last before falling apart and shattering beneath him. When he lifted his head, her hands fell limply from him, without hesitation his eyes found hers, and unable to look away, she watched as he smirked at her—the expression both driving her crazy and fueling her desire.

"Hook—" she started but he never gave her the chance to finish, his fingers suddenly plunged into her, drawing a low moan from her as her thighs clenched and her hips lifted from the bed. "Ohhh God." She breathed, pleasure shooting through her body as he began to pump them in and out of her fast—his eyes still hot and burning held her stare.

And she was lost…completely gone.

She had never really stood a chance.

He was cruel and ruthless and knew exactly what he was doing—alternating between stroking her deeply with a curl of his fingers and thrusting them in and out of her fast, hitting her in just the right spot again and again. The ever-changing and dizzying pattern caused her toes to curl while the whimpers and moans that fell from her lips began to increase in their breathy volume—the sound of her cries echoing throughout the cabin, strangely erotic to her own ears. And as he continued to work her into a frenzy, pushing her ever closer to that tempting edge, she closed her eyes—a delicious pressure began building deep inside of her, her hips tilted towards his fingers as her body chased the release she craved.

"Yes," she murmured, she was so close, her body tensing, her skin practically humming with the impending orgasm. "Yes…don't stop. Oh. God. Don't—don't stop."

She was almost there, she could feel it—her body was shaking, her vision wavering, her heart racing—until, quite suddenly…he stopped.

"What the hell?" she gasped, her eyes fluttering open, her body protesting as he withdrew his fingers fast.

At her slightly outraged tone, Hook shot her a quick smile, before sliding his body over hers and bracing his arms on either side of her head—the change in position sending red warning flags dancing across her vision as his face hovered mere inches over hers, the new intimacy both terrifying and perfect. And as he settled over her, urging her legs even further apart with his knee, the heavy feeling of his length pressing against her entrance caused her breathing to become slightly erratic and her body to tremble in anticipation.

"I need to feel you Emma."

His lilting voice whispered the words softly and without giving her a chance to respond, he pushed forward once, thrusting into her deeply, his groan mingling with her shouted cry. She came immediately. After he had taken his time working her up with his fingers and tongue, she was unable to hold back any longer, clenching and unclenching tightly around him—her climax was sudden, powerful, and violent. Riding it out, she clung to him as he continued to take her—hard, fast, and intense—just like she had craved from him all along. His thrusts unrelenting, she practically sobbed into his neck, the intensity of her pleasure nearly overwhelming as she whispered incoherent words, her brain unable to work properly, her body completely his. Continuing to slam into her hard, he drew out her climax, his stunted groans merely feeding her lust, the fire in her veins only continuing to burn hotly for him with each muffled curse he swore.

Vaguely she wondered if it would ever be enough—him, her, them— she wanted, needed, craved more, demanding it with each tilt of her hips.

And as pleasure washed over her once more before fading to soft rippling waves, she came down from her high, her body feeling like liquid gold from the inside out. Slowing his pace, he pushed into her deeply again, stroking her gently, his length sliding into her bit by bit, a shudder wracking her body at the sudden change. Their chests heaving, their faces nearly touching, their bodies pressed so tightly together she wasn't sure where she started and he stopped, she looked up at him, her vision coming back into focus as her muddled brain began to think somewhat clearly again.

And they stared at each other for a moment—every raw, honest, and intense emotion she saw reflected in his gaze causing her eyes to burn with the threat of on-coming tears.

"Again." He said softly, and slowly he began to move once more, taking her deeply, unhurriedly, his strokes rekindling the hot fire within her. "I want to watch you come undone again. I want to see you yield to me again."

His words had her trembling and biting her lip, unable to look away she continued to meet his gaze. "Hook." She whispered in a hoarse voice as he hit her in a spot that had her toes curling, and she watched as an odd look flashed over his features—something that brimmed with slight pain dimmed his eyes.

"No." he said, his voice low and firm, an unreadable emotion hidden in his tone. "Killian, my name is Killian…say it Emma." It was a demand, not a request, and he pushed himself further into her with the words, a soft cry spilling from her lips before his mouth covered hers in a passionate and jarring kiss that once again caused her head to go hazy. Breaking away on a heaving breath, he rested his forehead against hers, and withdrew from her completely, his jaw clenching tightly when she cried out in protest. "Say it Emma."

Since she had stepped foot in his cabin, he had held the upper hand and while a small part of her was begging that she try to fight him, urging her to attempt to regain some semblance of control, another more seductive part was pushing her to do the opposite, whispering for her to just give in completely.

"Say it." He demanded through gritted teeth, his arms quivered next to her as he continued to brace himself over her.

And as he thrust into her hard, she arched her body off the bed, all thoughts of denying him anything fleeing her completely, "Killian." she moaned his name and it was almost as if with the word the floodgates opened and she was unable to stop. "Killian, Killian. Killian." She chanted it, saying it over and over again as he continued to take her— mercilessly pounding into her, his movements becoming even more frenzied with each broken whimper that fell from her lips.

"Let go Emma, come for me."

And with the request she broke—rearing up towards him, her arms clung to him tightly as her walls tensed around him—gripping and clenching him she came hard once again, a silent scream forming on her lips as he continued to drive into her relentlessly. And as their bodies came together, the heated sounds of their desperate lovemaking filling the room, finding her voice Emma continued to murmur his name softly. The sound of it falling from her lips lighting something deep within her as sensations bombarded her over and over again, leaving her dazed and breathless. Finally, just when she was beginning to fear she couldn't take it any longer, a ragged groan was torn from him and burying his face into her neck, he followed her, whispering her name and pulsing and shuddering above her—the hot feeling of him coming inside of her, drawing a soft appreciative cry as her body went limp beneath his.

Breathless, she laid there—spent and exhausted, she was unable to move. And as she attempted to steady her breathing, his body shook above her, his arms clearly struggling to keep himself braced over her. Slowly, surely, her cloudy brain began to clear once again—suddenly things began to drift back into focus. Lifting heavy lidded eyes to him, she watched as his gaze flitted over her before hotly meeting her stare. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she saw as the storm faded from his eyes and something gentle and almost affectionate crept into his gaze. Bracing himself on his forearm, he brought his good hand to her and cupping her face gently, his thumb softly ran over her cheek in a tender almost soothing touch.

Stubborn, she fought the urge to turn into his hand, her pulse racing frantically, both panic and fear suddenly edged their way into her mind as her heart warmed with something vaguely familiar and undeniably terrifying. "I—I have to go." She whispered, her voice coming out weak and shaky, her anxiety kicking up a notch.

Coward, something inside of her whispered, even as another part of her celebrated her good sense.

He didn't say anything at her hushed statement, only continued to stare at her, running his tongue over his bottom lip and drawing it into his mouth he watched her intently. And as he did she saw the beginnings of anger begin to light in his sea-like gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly and his jaw locking tightly. Watching the battle occur in the seemingly endless blue depths of his stare, her own anger began to rile up, making itself known in the way she tensed her body and raised a brow at him defiantly. And bracing her hands against his shoulders, she was about to push him off in a panicked rush when slowly something soft dawned on his features and a small sad smile dusted his lips.

"Of course love." He said with a wink, rolling off of her and breaking the intensely heavy moment.

Slightly dazed by his sudden change in behavior, she blushed furiously as he slid out of her and closing her eyes she reminded herself that she was an adult and not some awkward teenager who didn't know how to act after sleeping with a guy…

A pirate.

A three hundred year old pirate.

From fucking fairytale land.

"Christ." She whispered, running a hand down her face on a quiet sigh.

At her muttered oath, she heard him chuckle faintly next to her, and it took everything in her not to sit up and glare at him while demanding to know what he found so funny. Bickering with him after what had just had happened seemed too domestic and intimate—and all she wanted at the moment was to get the hell out of his cabin as quickly as possible.

Everything was crashing down on her fast—the heavy weight of their actions settling around them stiflingly, the gravity of it nearly suffocating her.

Pushing herself up, abruptly she jumped out of the bed and unable to take his unnerving presence any longer, she began to gather her clothes, paying no mind to the way her skin heated and tingled, aware of his lingering stare. Tugging her underwear and jeans on she avoided his gaze, pulling her sweater over her head she ignored when he sat up, struggling with her boots she finally sighed and glanced over at him when he cleared his throat expectantly. And as her eyes made contact with his, she fought not to stumble back, denying the raging emotions that struggled to break through the now flimsy barrier she had put up around herself.

"Don't say anything." She said quickly, scowling when he merely cocked a dark brow and shot her a humored smile. "Just please don't say anything. It—it was a one time thing. Something we both needed to get out of our systems and—and it's over now. It's done…it's…" she paused, looking away from his eyes, which had suddenly gentled in a way that was too understanding and bordering on sympathetic. "It's done." She repeated lamely, her voice faltering noticeably as she made her way across the room on unsure and wobbly legs.

And as she stopped in front of the door, the long silent pause continuing to draw out between them, dimly the sound of water lapping up against the ship filtered its way to her ears while the welcoming and luring scent of the sea wrapped itself around her enticingly, almost as if urging her to turn around…

To stay.

"Do you really believe that lass?" his calm voice broke through her brief reverie, the tone of frank disbelief more than a little alarming.

No.

"Yes." She whispered and a small voice screamed LIAR! even while silently she congratulated herself for her strength and conviction—only vaguely she acknowledged the part of her that simultaneously questioned her weakness.

"Emma look at me."

She shook her head, her heart racing, her brain cursing him out for sounding so calm and sure. And as her throat tightened almost painfully, she struggled to take in calm and even breaths, frowning when infuriating tears pricked the corners of her eyes. At her refusal, she heard him sigh softly, the sound echoing in the room—and she could almost picture him in her mind, shaking his head—his expression both grim and hurt.

"Emma—"

"I have to go Hook." Her voice was barely above a muted whisper, and placing her hand on the door, she closed her eyes briefly—after their shared passion his moniker tasted bitter on her tongue, her lips longed to speak his true name again. "I'm sorry…I just…I have to go."

And quickly, without turning around, without so much as a backwards glance, she fled his cabin, the sound of his voice calling out to her resonating in her ears as her boots pounded against the wooden planks carrying her forward and urging her on.

Coming above deck, she ran across the ship, hurriedly making her way to the dock, the cool sea air stinging her warm cheeks—the feeling both harsh and welcoming.

As she exited the ship and moved away from it, slowing her steps considerably so as to not draw any unnecessary attention from those who lingered near the water, she felt a tingling of awareness dance up her spine, tempting her to cast a look over her shoulder, pushing her to do it despite her better judgment.

And unable to deny herself a quick peek, she stopped. Turning around, she shot a look behind her—her breath catching in her throat when she saw his dark figure, standing near the helm of the Jolly Roger, seemingly looking in her direction. And while in her hurry she had been able to put a decent amount of distance between herself and the sea, for a moment, she felt as if nothing separated them, the space between them insignificant.

Watching as he inclined his head in her direction, she tensed, unsure whether the small nod was simply one of acknowledged defeat or of a challenge accepted. Unwilling to allow herself to ponder over it, she sucked in a deep breath and tore her gaze away from him, noting the way the air whipping around her seemed to sizzle and spark with near tangible chemistry. And continuing her walk from the docks, she listened as her boots clicked against the wood in a steady and even rhythm, shuddering as hot images flashed before her eyes, and a heated flush swept across her skin.

As she took the steps leading away from the water two at a time, again she tried to reassure herself it had been a one time thing. Ignoring the ever present nagging voice in her head that whispered to her that Storybrooke was a small town—she and Hook would cross paths soon.

And with the wind rippling lightly through her hair and the scent of the sea fading behind her, she was unable to stop the small tentative smile that spread across her lips.

Regardless whether she was was ready to fully accept what had happened, despite her reluctance to explore her tumultuous feelings for him, there was one thing she couldn't deny…

This thing between them was far from over.

TBC…

Thoughts?

Thank you to eaasybugboy over on tumblr for the suggestion to write a prequel!