A/n: Random little 2k priest!killian fic, which is pretty much all smut and feels. Idk where this even came from and I feel like I switch past and present tenses here and there, which is a way that I write and I'll never apologize for it.
"You…" Killian whispered against the curve of her neck as she pressed her lace clad breasts against his covered chest. "– are going to get me fired." He breathed out, his hands skimming down along her sides, groaning as his fingers traced over the edges of her lacey underwear. She came prepared to utterly destroy him.
"It would be worth it, wouldn't it?" He couldn't see her face, but he could hear the flirty satisfaction written all over her features. "Losing all of this for me."
Killian groaned inwardly. Getting kicked out of the church would mean he had nothing and no one. It was his home, his livelihood – no matter how unsatisfying it was. But for Emma… it would be worth it. But he wasn't about to tell her that, not yet.
"Wouldn't it?" Emma breathed out, her lips close to his ear as she slid her hand down to cup him through his black slacks. He palmed him slowly, drawing her hand along his length.
She had been the worst person to ever walk through the doors of the church, but the best person to ever wander into his life. The other parishioners were set in believing her frequent visits to the church for confession, were veiled attempts to locate where they kept the offerings.
Once they'd caught wind that she was a former thief, there was little that could be done to shake their theories about her. Why else would a woman like her – so determined to resist their offers God's presence in her life – make frequent visits? Only Killian knew and he was bound by an oath to never speak of their time in the confessional.
It had started out so innocently. She wandered into the church after too much to drink and unloaded a lifetime of baggage onto the young priest whose face she couldn't even see. The next time she stopped by, she came to apologize, bringing with her a slice of apple pie and a mug of cocoa as a piece offer for any trouble she might have caused.
They didn't meet the second time in the confessional, but instead in his office, under more natural circumstances. She sat down across from him, with a desk that made them look like children, in a room that seemed ill-fit for the young and incredibly handsome priest.
That was the day this started. Where their touches lingered and their gazes burned.
Again and again she began to visit the church.
"Yes." Killian whispered, the word slipping past his lips, barely audible. But she heard. He knew she heard. Her hand stilled at his cock and he could hear the way her breath caught in her throat. He pulled back, swallowing thickly as he sought out her gaze. "I'm not just saying that to get laid, either."
The look in her eyes made his heart ache. He couldn't help but wonder if his little promises, somehow made her think of those broken promises and shattered dreams she'd had all those years ago, the secrets that she told him, the scars she exposed.
Emma cupped his cheeks and kissed him soundly, dragging him closer to her as her hands fumbled, one at the back of his neck, the other fisting in his hair. They stumbled backwards, until she pinned herself between his desk and him. One hand slipped away from his neck, her lips slating over his with desperation and pure need.
Killian grasped at her hips as he hauled her upwards, momentarily distracted by the brush of her fingers against the front of his trousers as she worked the zipper down and freed his aching cock.
The foreplay was mind-blowing, it always was with her. She'd made a scene by arriving ten minutes into his sermon, dressed only in a trench coat – and he knew why she was dressed like that. She sat at the corner of a pew, crossing and uncrossing her legs to distract him, his gaze had been fixed on her, hoping that he might catch some glimpse of what lay beneath the tan coat.
It wasn't until they were behind the closed doors of his office, that she'd stripped off the coat and allowed him to see the gorgeous spectacle that laid beneath it. Black lace was a breathtaking image against her pale freckled skin.
He pulled back just enough to shove his trousers down his hips, until they were no longer inhibiting him. His lips brushed along her collarbone, teeth scraping and marking the pale skin they found there. He could feel her trembling beneath him and he intended to add to the way she quivered, slipping his hand between her thighs to stroke her slick core through her underwear which revealed just how much she was wanting this.
"You get off on this don't you?" Killian said lowly, his voice rough and gravely with desire as he leveled his gaze with hers. "Coming in here, looking so fuckable, tempting a priest." He stroked his thumb over her, paying careful attention to just barely miss that little bundle of nerves hidden beneath the lace.
His freehand reached around to unhook her bra, jerking it loose from her arms as he pitched it somewhere on the other side of the room. He craned his neck to catch her breast in his mouth, suckling on the pert little peak, his tongue rolling around it, his teeth scraping her delicate flesh.
Emma was trying to fight back any sound of pleasure, her lips clamped tightly shut, her eyes focused on him, the only evidence of the fire he was slowly stoking towards completion.
His released her nipple with a wet little pop. Killian smirked wickedly at the blonde, his eyes glinting with desire and mischief. "I asked you a question." He remarked, fingers pushing her panties aside, plunging two digits into her core, with little warning.
That made her cry out, fingers gripping at the edge of the desk, her hips bucking forward into his fingers.
"Were you sitting in that pew while I talked, soaking wet, and aching to be fucked?" He growled out as he twisted his fingers in and out of her, watching the way her lashes fluttered and her mouth parted with silent little cries.
"Still not talking?" A third finger slid into her, making her gasp, her palm slamming into the desk as she nearly lost her grip. "Emma, love… I'dhate," He punctuated his words with strokes to her clit. "To leave you to your own devices… But you're not giving me anything to work with. Seductive smiles aren't going to get you fucked tonight."
Emma narrowed her eyes, lifting one hand to hook her fingers into the white clerical collar around his neck, jerking him closer to her face. "YouFather, have a lot of issues I think you need to work out." She was rocking against his fingers, biting down on her bottom lip as she let out a low, throaty moan.
"And how do you propose I work out these pent-up issues?" Killian leaned closer to her, his breath dancing out against her lips, wholly unprepared for the way she surged upwards and caught his bottom lip between her teeth, using that instead of her own to quiet a moan that sounded like his name.
"I think you know."
Killian pulled his fingers away from her, his fist curling around his cock, trying to ease his own needs. If she was going to be coy, he wasn't going to give her what she wanted. Even if it was torturing himself in the process.
"Here I thought you were a gentleman." She remarked with no small amount of sass as she pushed herself up further onto his desk, spreading her legs a little wider as her hand dipped down between her own thighs, soothing the need that he hadn't sated. "It's not nice to leave a girl hanging like this. It's not fair."
Killian arched a challenging brow. It wouldn't surprise him one bit if they both stubbornly got themselves off, rather than giving into their little game of dominance. "Life's not fair, love." He drawled out, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip, his gaze flickering down to watch her fingers sliding in and out of her.
"I had all these plans to let you fuck me tonight." Emma hissed out through clenched teeth as she watched him, her eyes locked with his now that she had his attention again. "It's been far too long since the last I had you in me."
His control is slowly slipping and he knows that's what she's aiming for. She wants him to snap. It's not the first time she's played this angle, urging him to lose what little control and composure he has left. He's certain she gets off on knowing how much she's changed in his life.
Killian drops his hand from his cock, moving forward, his hands sliding over her upper thighs, brushing her hand away as he tugs at her underwear, working the black lace down her pale legs, until they're dropping to the floor somewhere at his feet.
"Your fingers aren't going to satisfy you the way I can." Killian hisses out as he catches her lips, kissing her hard, desperately, as he spreads her legs wider and lines himself up. He thrusts forward, filling her fully, before he's pulling out again. His pace is hard and fast, as if he's driving home some point.
She's clinging to him, legs wrapped around him tightly, her arms slung over his shoulders, nails seeking purchase in his shirt. "Harder." Emma hisses out, close to his ear, her lips brushing against his skin.
He obliges. He always does. No matter how stubborn they both are, all he desires is to make her satisfied. She has become his god. His goddess. She's the first thought on his mind in the morning, the last when he goes to bed. It's her name on his lips.
Killian lays her flat back against the desk, pencils and papers falling to the floor. They don't matter. Nothing else does, but her. One hand clings to her hip, holding her steady as he thrusts into her, filling her completely with every forward motion. His other has slipped between them, seeking out the little bundle of nerves right above where they're joined.
Emma cries out, her back bowing upwards. That sound pulls them both out of the moment, their bodies stilling, hearts pounding, breaths caught somewhere in the back of their throats. That was too loud. That was the sort of loud that got them caught.
A lifetime passes as they wait for any sound, any hint that someone will be there to find them in such an intimate embrace. But they don't pull apart. He's still pressed into her, lips brushing over her jawline as he slowly shifts, barely fucking her, just enough to keep their desires fueled.
Killian dips down and kisses her, nipping playfully at her bottom lip. "I don't think anyone's coming, love."
She played her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, swirling her hips in a way that makes his lashes flutter and his lips part with silent words. "I thought you knew how to worship, Killian. I'm not feeling very worshipped right now."
"You have to keep quiet." Killian hissed out as he drew back, nearly pulling from her completely, before thrusting forward again, setting a slow, fulltempo, that is sure to finish them both off.
He can feel her muscles fluttering around his cock already, the way her legs tighten around him, her fingers clutch at his biceps. He knows her so intimately well. There's hardly a place in the church that they haven't fucked – a constant reminder of her.
Their first night, in the middle of the sanctuary, sprawled out in the shadow of the cross from the stained glass window, bathed in the light of the moon. They both got off on his broken oath of abstinence. His broken vows of devoting his life to God, when it was clear from the start he was devoted to her.
They were both such broken people. Twisted and ruined from their lives. He had sought refuge in the collar, focusing on a religion that meant nothing to him. She had sought refuge in her life as a bail bonds person, keeping herself emotionally detached from everyone.
And now they sought refuge in each other.
Killian slanted his lips over hers as he felt her body going taut beneath him. He swallowed her cries, muffling the sound of his name on her lips as she came undone, setting off his own release that left him seeing starts.
Emma slumped back against his desk, her lashes fluttering as her eyes opened to look up at him. "Did you mean it?"
His brows furrowed together, not following her train of thought. Had he said something in the heat of the moment? No, he didn't remember saying anything other than telling her to keep quiet.
"Forget it." Emma shook her head, casting her gaze away from him as she stretched out, pushing at his chest for him to let her up.
Killian moved, not wanting to inhibit her from getting up if that was what she wanted. His gaze followed her as she moved to grab her discarded underwear and her trench coat. "Where are you going?"
"My apartment." She retorted, her voice taking an icier tone with him now. The warmth was gone, literally and figuratively.
"You don't have to go yet." Killian said softly as he approached her, holding his hand out, willing her to take it. "What did I do wrong?"
Emma bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes meeting his for a brief second, before she took hold of his hand, stepping closer to him. "It's stupid. Apparently, I'm still looking for any reason to run."
"I noticed." Killian said with a small smile, squeezing her hand as he drew her in closer, his arms looping around her as he pressed her to his chest. He stroked his fingers over her back, his lips pressed to the top of her head. "What was it that you think I didn't mean?"
Emma shook her head, "I said it's stupid. Just forget that I brought it up."
It dawned on them. He had agreed that losing all of this was worth it, if he had her. He had meant it too, that hadn't been some empty comment, with nothing behind it. "Does your apartment have enough room for me?"
"What?" Emma pulled back, her eyes meeting his, confusion and skepticism written all over her features. "Don't you have some sort of goodnight kumbaya with the other priests before you go to bed?"
Killian nodded his head, "I would, if I wasn't ready to be done with this." He took her hands in his, "I'll find myself somewhere else to live, but for tonight… would you take me home with you?"
Emma pursed her lips. "Do you get to keep the collar?"
He rolled his eyes, "The truth comes out. You only fancy me for the clerical collar. I see how it it-" Before he could say anymore, her lips were on his once more, fingers delving into his hair, mussing it up.
This was worth it.