M Rating ahead. Don't read if that's your thing. Unapologetic smut.

Killian wakes before the sun is fully up, the dim light just barely filtering through the curtains in his bedroom. He rolls to his back and stretches, and remembers that he's not alone the moment his hand makes contact with the long blonde strands that stretch between him and Emma. He's surprised she stayed. He's surprised she didn't take off after he fell asleep, rob him for all that he's worth like Milah did, and leave him to pick up the pieces. Then again, maybe he shouldn't be, given her history with Neal.

He takes a moment to observe his (former?) rival and bedmate. The covers are around her waist, leaving her top half nearly bare. Somehow they made it through their nighttime activities without ever removing her bra, and in the chilly morning air he can see her pert nipples pushing against the light blue lace. In sleep, she looks peaceful with her whole body relaxed. The tension he's used to seeing around her eyes and mouth is completely eased, and said lips are parted slightly as her soft and even breathing continues.

In her sleep, she rolls to him, the covers falling even lower on her hips, exposing the curve of her body from waist to mid-thigh, all bare. She curls against him and throws a leg over his, her thigh pressing against the half-hardness of his cock, growing harder at the feeling of her sex pressed against his hip. He needs to see all of her, craves it with every fiber of his being, and so the arm trapped under her body curls up until he reaches the clasp of her bra and snaps it open. She gasps awake at that and jerks as far away as his arm will allow. Upon seeing Killian peering up at her, she seems to relax again.

"Jesus, Jones. Didn't you get enough last night?" Her words carry the tone of annoyance one carries when startled awake, but the truth of her stance on the matter comes when she pushes her hips against him.

"With you, love, it will never be enough." His voice comes out as a low growl and he shifts them so Emma is on her back. With gentle fingers, he draws the straps of her bra off her shoulders, stripping away the hardly-concealing lace with reverence, his expression one of awe as each new inch is bared to him. The night before, they were by no means drunk, but they weren't sober and they didn't take their time.

Emma senses his shift of pace, and he's afraid she's going to balk, that she'll stop him and run like he keeps expecting her to. She freezes up, and he pulls back immediately, unwilling to push or rush her at all. He watches her face for what feels like hours, maybe days, watches the indecision war in her eyes for those moments until he sees the walls come crumbling down and she sheds the bra herself and tosses it to the side. Her arms go up above her head and she nods, her timid smile shooting hope through his veins. He slides his hands up her arms, taking a moment to link his fingers with hers.

When her breath catches, it's hard to tell if it's because of the tenderness if the action, or the skin to skin contact of their chests, the synchronicity of the rise and fall of their breathing, the moment their hearts start beating the same rhythm. Whatever it is, Killian goes with it, smiling encouragingly at her before he lowers his lips to hers and gives as much as he takes. This is just as much a negotiation as the one they made in front of the safe last night, but with less clothing.

Killian returns to his previous task of wanting to take in the sight of her, pulling away from her lips but keeping their hands clasped together. He starts with her face, memorizing the lazy contentment he finds there, something he wasn't expecting when this all began the night before.

"What, are you planning the easiest way to knock me out so you can keep the loot?" She arches her back as she asks, brushing her breasts against him, and he closes his eyes briefly to absorb the sensation.

"No. I'm flirting with you," he deadpans.

She chuckles, light and relaxed. "I think the time for flirting has passed, Jones." She breaks the contact of their hands to run her hands down his back, ending at his hips. She pulls him down as she rises up, rubbing him against her core.

"Bloody minx," he grunts as he follows her pace. One shift of his hips, one readjustment, and he's sliding into her and it's everything it was the night before and more. This time there is no urgency, no primal need to take, take, take. This time it's all about feeling, and he's feeling her gasp of pleasure, her legs wrapping around his waist, her breath hot against his ear as he places open-mouthed kisses along her jawline. The leisurely rhythm is all about sensation, and he follows her lead until she says otherwise.

It takes one whispered "faster" from her to change it all again, for him to shift to his knees, pulling her up in the process. He considers for a moment and looks around before grabbing one of his pillows from next to her head.

He taps her thigh gently. "Lift up, love," he says, groaning as she complies and he's still buried inside her. He places the pillow beneath her, hoping he got the angle right and thrusting for verification.

"Holy shit, Killian," comes her breathy reply, and he grins down at her. Perfect. From there it's a matter of placing a hand on each hip and letting their bodies find the tempo that matches. He lets her breathy moans and gasps of his name guide him as he skims one hand up her stomach to between her breasts and she arches into his touch.

The sweat is starting to sheen on both of their bodies and he can't imagine anything looking more perfect than Emma Swan in the throes of passion, her body responding to each and every touch, even more so when he leads his hand back down to where they're joined and lightly thumbs at her clit. She starts cursing in earnest, the words tumbling out of her mouth between quick breaths that would make even the roughest sailor on the seven seas blush a red bright enough to put a tomato to shame.

Her body's pull is intoxicating and he can feel his climax approaching but struggles to hold on until after she's fallen. He is, after all, a gentleman and ladies always come first. But he knows he's found the right pressure when her hand clamps over his, her fingers holding his in the perfect placement and pressure as he continues to sink into her inviting heat. It's only a few thrusts later that he feels her walls tighten around him, her whole body going taut as she breathes out his name. His release follows hers as he pushes in once more before going still, one hand still gripping her hip tightly while the other remains trapped by hers.

Once the aftershocks fade, he finds himself with his forehead between her breasts, her hands stroking through his hair in a soothing manner.

"I don't mean to upset you, Emma, but I think we make quite the team," he murmurs against her skin before lifting his head to look in her eyes.

The tenderness is back in her expression, and he decides then and there that he'll do whatever it takes to stay by her side. His tongue plays at the corner of his mouth for a second as he considers something.

"What do you say we partner up? You know, stop stealing and sabotaging each other's jobs and actually work together." When his voice comes out even and sure, he's proud of himself, because inside he can feel the ball of nerves churning in his stomach. It's been long enough since either of them worked with another, and both of those experiences did not end well. He would try to not take it personally if she rejects the idea, but he discovers that he well and truly means it.

"As long as we keep splitting it in half, and you keep buying my drinks," she says after a pause of consideration.

"Love, I'll buy you all the drinks you want, and a golden chalice with which to drink them if that's what your heart desires."

She rolls her eyes, but smiles all the same. "Just shut up and kiss me, Jones. We have a partnership to negotiate."

"As you wish," he promises, and he can still feel her smiling when he kisses her.

A/N: A huge thank you to any of you who read, favorited, and/or reviewed the whole process of the Pervy Thirty ficlets. While I feel this one warranted it's own post, the rest can be found in "Always You" starting with "Can I Kiss You?".