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Do You Believe in Magic

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"Emma," he growls, turning around to find the woman in question standing there with a grin on her lips and his coat dangling from her finger.

She lets the leather fall to the ground with a soft laugh, then steps towards the pirate. "Killian," she answers, tilting her head in contemplation before flicking her wrist again and unbuckling his vest.

His eyes hold a warning, but his feet carry him towards his love, arms settling around her waist, "You know you don't have to do that. I'll happily undress for you, if you wish it, milady."

Her hands travel up his torso, loving the feel of his muscles tensing under her touch. She slides them higher and pushes the leather vest from his shoulders, another smile quirking at her pretty mouth, "You know I need to practice though."

This time he can't help the laugh that escapes him, "I'm not sure Regina meant this when she told you to strengthen your magic."

With a flick of her wrist, Killian's shirt vanishes from his chest, leaving him bare from the waist up, "Well it's a good thing she doesn't know about this then, isn't it?"

It hadn't taken them long after their love being revealed as true to realise that they'd wasted enough time without each other. Her kiss had taken his curse and together they had weakened the Wicked Witch and sent her into hiding. But they all knew she could be back at any moment to claim the final ingredient to take her back in time, so training hadn't stopped for Emma. The only difference now was that Henry knew of his past, his real past, and has been spending more time with all of his family, allowing Emma to spend a fair bit more time with Killian Jones.

His forehead bumps against hers as he draws her in, "I was researching."

Her breath fans across his cheek as her hand rests over his heart, "You've been at it all day. Come on, take a break with me."

The moonlight filters in through his half-closed curtains, a reminder of his entire day spent cooped up in this hotel room. She looks so tempting with seduction in her eyes. He leans in those final few inches and claims her lips, swallowing her slight gasp with a chuckle.

Her hands come to rest at the back of his neck, drawing herself into him, standing on her toes to angle herself better and deepen their kiss. He feels one hand flick slightly and then feels her bare chest on his and, gods above, he will never tire of the smoothness of her skin, the firm weight of her breasts pushing against him. He raises his hand to cup the gentle skin, his thumb brushing over her nipple, causing a shudder to run through her body.

She rolls her hips forward, into his, and moans at the way she can feel his length even through the thickness of his leather pants. With her mind unfocussed and aroused, she flicks her wrist again, but only succeeds in undoing the belt on his hips, groaning in frustration and stepping back from him enough to do what her magic won't let her. She tugs at the pants, sinking to her knees to pull them off his legs, but before she raises herself back up, she's distracted by his cock bobbing right in front of her.

And really, what's a saviour to do?

Eyes meeting his from her position on her knees, she opens her mouth and takes him into her warmth with a delighted hum. He leans forward slightly, looking for balance. As her tongue flicks out to lick at him, Emma waves her hand through the air, silently praying that she's focused herself enough for this to work. They're swept up in a white rush, then Killian's hand makes contact with the wall that is suddenly behind her and she pulls away slightly to laugh in triumph. She's become quite adept at moving objects with her magic, but moving herself and another person has been troublesome.

As she takes his length back into her mouth, she figures that all she really needed was the proper motivation.

He groans out curses and blessings as she swirls her tongue around his head, the sensitive skin there growing hotter with each delicate suck, the saltiness of him becoming more predominate. "Emma," he warns, his hook coming down to cradle the back of her head. It's a sweet torture because letting her continue will bring him over the edge into bliss, but it will also deny him the chance to be buried inside of her. And he so loves her warmth.

She pulls her head back and looks up at him, licking at her lips, "Tell me what you want."

His hips are still thrusting forward slightly, rocking back and forth, seeking release, "I want you."

She grins, standing and pulling him back to her lips with a searing kiss, leaving them both breathless and clamouring for more. His hand moves from the wall, down her warm skin and to her hot centre. She's still wearing her jeans, but he cups her through the material, rubbing his hand across her heat. He pulls back so that he can see her and merely quirks an eyebrow, his silent communication enough that she knows what to do. Letting her head drop back, allowing him better access to her breasts, she moans as his mouth closes around a nipple and waves her hand through the air once more to rid herself of her pants and underwear.

His hand continues its same motion, fingers slipping inside of her and pumping without the fabric barrier. He sucks harder on her nipple, drawing a sweet moan from her lips, and she can't handle the build anymore. She grasps the back of his head by his hair, pulling him up to her and capturing his lips again. His fingers pull out of her to grab her leg and hitch it up on his hip, replacing his hand with his cock, pushing at her entrance.

She reaches between them to guide him in, letting out a moan as he fills her and moving her own fingers to her clit, rolling over the bundle of nerves as he begins to thrust.

It's all so new, yet so familiar, and she can tell that he's close already by the way his forehead rests on her shoulder, his entire focus on making this good for her. She knows how much restraint he had to show in the time he couldn't kiss her and it breaks her heart to think that even with the love between them, he still thinks he has to hold back.

Her free hand touches under his chin, bringing his head back up, her thumb brushing across the stubble on his jaw, her eyes open and tender. "It's okay," she whispers, "Come for me."

His bottom lips quivers as the rush of emotions takes over him. "You're too perfect," he says, "Too good for me, I don't deserve you."

She removes her hand from between them, bringing it up to his other cheek and cradling his face, "Hey, don't say that. Don't say that." She pecks at his lips, "I love you. I love you."

For all the weeks that they've had since their kiss had taken the curse from his lips, she hasn't said it out loud once. She's shown it, sure, has made certain that he knows of her feelings, but now it seems to mean so much more.

His thrusts become erratic and he pulls her legs further around his back, burying himself deeper still before shaking as he falls over the edge and into the abyss of oblivion, his lips meeting hers in a bruising kiss. The warmth that fills her sends her over seconds later, their whispered words of love lost in the haze that surrounds them.

He looks up at her, a sadness clearing from his eyes, "You mean it?"

There's still a sense of magic in the air, the way she'd always thought it would be when she found her true love, "Of course."

He smiles when he kisses her, teeth bumping clumsily, but neither of them can find it in themselves to care. This is what fairy tales are about. Beating the odds and coming out of the battle on top.

Emma waves her hand through the air once more, wrapping them in tendrils of white smoke and bringing them to the bed. "See?" she whispers against his cheek as they lie with their foreheads touched together, "This was much better than research."

"Mmm," he agrees, already feeling his eyes beginning to slide closed in a satisfied sleepiness, "Much better indeed."

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