This is the first fic I have ever writted, so I'm not entrely sure of how it turned out to be. Also, English isn't my mother language, so please indulge me any minor mistake you see. If you point them out I'll make sure to correct them. Please enjoy and tell me what do you think :)

There was gold everywhere. Golden jewellery, golden dresses; the walls, the floor, all gleamed with a golden shade. It was sumptuous. It was luxurious. And it was disorienting.

Emma got distracted from the frivolous conversation unfolding before her by admiring the soft gleam that emitted the big hanging lamp that reigned over the huge hall. Everything seemed unreal and deceiving to her. The false smiles, the almost inconspicuous whispers exchanged behind overly ringed hands, the irking laugh of the woman Neal was talking to.

She was snapped out of her reverie by Neal's annoyed hiss. "Can't you try smiling just once? It's embarrassing, you look like you're at a funeral. What if we see that pretty little face of yours, eh?" Emma turned her face at his proximity, not making eye contact once. Neal's hand grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him. "When I talk to you look at me in the face and don't disrespect me" Emma broke free from his grip and hurried out of there. While she left she still could hear Neal's faint voice "Sorry about that guys..."

She locked herself in the bathroom and breathed deeply a few times. She made sure not to shed a tear. Besides ruining her make-up and ensuring another reproach from Neal, it wouldn't change anything. She looked at her reflection on the wall-sized mirror. Her smokey make-up hadn't suffered any irreparable damage. All her golden locks were gathered on a fashionable upsweep. The long plain earrings she was wearing matched her close-fitting dress, which left most of her back and her right shoulder and arm uncovered. She was stunning actually. But her sad eyes told her otherwise. She felt just as lonely as ever. The bright lights, the soft classical music, it was all just another scenery she had to play. But tonight her performance was turning out harder to represent, and Neal's words and actions were making it difficult to keep her smiling façade. It didn't matter though. She had to go back there and keep the show going on. 'Just a few more hours' she told herself. In just a few more hours she would be back in Neal's ridiculously presumptuous and cold and lonely house, and she'd be able to get rid of those stupid smiles, and giggles he wanted her to pretend, and hopefully she'd be free from him too. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't stop a frown from appearing on her face at the thought of him approaching her anytime soon. She managed to disguise her disgust though, and composed a neutral, yet polite expression and exited the bathroom.

All her concentration abandoned her, though, when she made her way into the hall again only to find Neal flirting with an ebony-skinned beauty. "So you're not working the street come on tonight I see" she snapped abruptly. Neal stared at her mouth opened, before muttering a hurried 'I'm so sorry' to the still shocked girl and grabbing Emma's arm raggedly, pulling her towards the mansion exit.

Once they were out, he started shouting at her.

"What the hell is wrong with you? How dare you disrespect me like that?" Neal shoved her in front of him and kept distancing them from the main entrance. "Who do you think you are? Who you think you're talking to?" On the last word he threw his arm back and slapped her hard across the face. Emma's vision blurred for a second and she felt the stinging pain on her cheek. Neal had never gone that far as to hit her. Of course there had been violent threats when he came back from some absurd party completely drunk, and he usually used his bully nature on her, but never physical violence. Suddenly Emma felt the need to cry and scream and run, all at once. But most than anything, she wanted to get Neal back for this. For everything. Every cruel word, every barely concealed threat, every unwanted touch.

But as she lifted her glance again, a tall, dark-haired man appeared from apparently thin air and yanked Neal from her side. He punched him in the stomach, hard enough that Neal fell to his knees and remained bent by his mid-section. The stranger punched him again, this time on the face, and left him sprawled on the ground, groaning pointless threats and pained curses.

He then turned to Emma. "You okay lass?" She was caught off guard by both his acts and his accent, but was able to answer a bit breathless 'yeah'. The man turned around and walked to a motorbike parked nearby. Emma faced Neal's still whining form, moved toward him and kicked him in the groin. "That's for being a total asshole" she hissed.

She span around then and approached the currently smirking stranger. "Now I'm okay" she grinned. His smirk widened then. "There's a good lass"

Emma got on the motorbike behind her rescuer and wrapped her arms around his torso. He sped up and exited the mansion's entrance road skidding. They hit the road fast and he didn't reduce their pace as they made their way between slower cars. Despite none of her most recent choices – fleeting with a stranger, on his motorbike, not knowing where they were headed to, and at rather unsafe velocity- weren't the ones common sense would have advised, she felt free. Free from Neal's snob manners, free from the stuck-up noses and the false giggles. God, that kick had been relieving.

She hold tighter on the man driving her away from the madness her life had become, burying her face in his back. His leather jacket was soft against her cheek, and she inhaled deeply. His scent was soothing and she relaxed further against his body as the flickering lights of the noisy city progressively dimmed behind them. She realised they were probably heading to the coastal city limits, though the faint smell of sea water that clung to his clothes helped her figuring it out. Truth was she didn't really mind whether they had an actual destination or they were going to drive all night long.

Being flush against him felt as natural as breathing. And so she kept doing just that, breathing him in and relaxing against his muscled back, tightening her arms around his waist, and letting the exhilarating feeling of their increasing speed wash over her.

The light from the few lampposts scattered here and there on the road finally illuminated the exit to a town whose name Emma had never heard of. Just before entering the edge of residential buildings he turned once again, heading toward a large brick construction with all the lookings of an industrial unit. He stopped the motorbike before a metal garage door big enough for a truck to pass through it.

They got off and while Emma took off her helmet he moved the motorbike into the building.

Inside all the lights where off, and all she could see was a metal staircase that leaded to a second floor that obviously hadn't been in the original structure. Emma went up as she undid the upsweep in her hair and messed her locks to let them recover their original positions.

Upstairs she found a cement-walled apartment. On her left there was a grey cement wall keeping whatever room was on the other side from sight, so she walked further following it into what seemed to be the main bedroom, but she didn't pay much attention to its general appearance, her mind focused instead on the locker-covered wall in front of her. She approached it and opened one randomly. Her eyes widened as she insecurely grabbed the gun that lied inside. Emma lifted it for a closer inspection. She had never had a fire weapon on her hands, and it was surprisingly exciting.

She heard light footsteps behind her and she turned around startled, finding the man whose name, she realised, she still didn't know standing right next to her watching her intently.

Emma almost got lost in those cerulean orbs of him, in where she found tender concern for her, despite having found her poking into his personal things.

He lifted a hand to her face and brushed some blond strands behind her ear.

As his thumb casually stroked her cheek, she was reminded of Neal's slap and she trembled almost imperceptibly. Almost. A frown marred his features for a moment, and he repeated the soothing motion, more slowly this time.

Emma tiptoed and brought her lips to his. Kissing him gently, one hand running languidly over his jaw line, the other, still griping the gun, was slightly pressed against his upper chest. He followed her lead, caressing her lips with his own. She backed from the kiss first, prying her eyelids open "What's your name?" she breathed

A soft smile graced his face then "Killian. Killian Jones. And yours is?"

She started leaning towards him once again "Emma Swan"

Her lips brushed over his as she murmured "Thank you Killian". At first a series of pecks, sweet light kisses against his lips next. She parted her lips slightly and he took her invitation without hesitation. He pressed his mouth more insistently to hers and she dropped the gun with a gasp, the need to run her hands through his dark, unruly hair far more compelling than her worry about where it would fall.

His hands on her waist, steadily making their way down to her hips, griping her a little bit harder as he pressed her whole body flush against his. She answered devouring his mouth even more passionately, lightly biting his lower lip.

Killian started moving them towards the bed. Emma tripped over her heels, definitely too high to walk on when she was solely focus in tasting every inch of his heavenly mouth. She kicked them off hurriedly, her height consequently decreasing a few centimetres, a fact that he mended by hauling her upwards, her legs now gripping both sides of his thighs.

With her arms securely locked around his neck, and his hands on her back, she lost herself again in the feeling of his muscled body against hers. He levelled her to the bed and she loosened her legs, not needing anymore to keep herself from falling but not willing to let him go just yet.

He hovered over her, pinning her to the mattress. Her hands were already tugging on his t-shirt to get to the lean muscles that hided under it. It was rather difficult to complete her task with him towering over her, both because of the minimum room left between their bodies and the huge distraction that lack of space was turning out to be.

Emma started rising from the bed, never distancing much from him, as he understood her intentions immediately and promptly compelled. Once the offending garment was off his torso she delighted herself contemplating his half-naked form and running her hands over the plans of his abdomen. He left open-mouthed kisses on her neck while opening her dress in response. Bit by bit, every piece of clothing was discarded and thrown carelessly to the floor, until she was sitting on his lap in only her black lace bra and panties while he did wondrous things to her neck and collarbone, making her back arch towards him, her face tilt to the ceiling. Her hands messed up his soft black hair in her haste to have him as close as possible.

He leaned forward, gently pressing her into the mattress, resuming their first position. His lips made their way then down her body, leaving hot hungry kisses on their path between her breasts, along her flat belly and over her navel, soft moans falling from her mouth while he continued his delicious ministrations.

She gripped his shoulders, bringing him back to her lips and kissing him deeply. While he kept one arm supporting part of his weight he cupped her head with his other hand. Emma ran hers down his back, digging her fingertips lightly into his lean body. It just felt so good to be there beneath him, biting his neck and feeling the warmth spread through his body. The low grunts he muffled against her hair were not helping her arousal, and she couldn't –didn't want to- fight the need to have him closer, so she placed her hands on either side of his face as she kissed him slowly, her tongue tangling with him passionately. She parted their lips to breathe a soft "Please" against his lips. He stared at her for a second before dipping his head and kissing her meaningfully. The remainings of their clothing soon lay forgotten on the floor.

His hand reached for hers, intertwining their fingers, and he entered her slowly, kissing her jaw as her body arched towards his. Killian set a lazy pace, thoroughly filling her. Emma used her free hand, as Killian still held the other, to lightly scratch his scalp, urging him on. He obliged, raising their laced hands above her head and thrusting deeper into her. Her pleased whimpers spurred him on, and his picked up pace soon sent her over the edge, moaning out loud.

Emma breathed raggedly, relishing in the last aftermaths of her orgasm with her eyes closed. Killian had slowed down his movements again, intimately caressing her as he waited for her to come down from her peak.

"Open your eyes love" he huskily breathed against her lips. When she compelled, he drew out purposely deeper thrusts. Emma mewled softly, freeing her hand from his grip and cupping his face. She could feel the tension building up again within her, his torturous moves opening again the gates of her passion. "More" Her muttered plead made his eyes darken with desire. His thrusts grew more powerful, her hands finding their way to drag her nails over his back. He bit her shoulder gently, leaving a reddened mark he licked lazily. Her muscles already tightening in anticipation, she tucked her head in the crook of his neck. Her second release hit her harder than the first, her body shaking uncontrollably beneath his, his name coming out in a sharp cry.

Every inch of her skin felt as if it was on fire, her senses on overdrive, but she refused to stop yet. She bucked her hips against his, his length hitting new depths with the action. Killian let out a strangled grunt, and she repeated the motion, enjoying the pulse of desire that spread through her hearing his pleased groans. Running her hands down his neck and over his chest she locked her legs around his waist, driving him further inside her."Killian" she spoke softly in her ear. "Killian, Killian, Killian" She dropped loving kisses and light nibbles along his jaw and neck in between each calling of his name. Her hand wounded up again in his hair, God, the things the feeling of his unruly locks between her fingers did, and she rocked her hips in synch with his, finally drawing out his release when her walls clenched around him in her third orgasm. She continued chanting his name in a low voice, unable to find any other word to describe the way she felt in that moment.

Killian found her lips again, and Emma closed her eyes, relishing in the warm feeling that filled her when he kissed her so gently. He rolled to the side, bringing her exhausted body with him, securely wrapping his arms around her middle.

Emma embraced his torso and placed her head on his shoulder, slightly touching his neck with her nose as she breathed him in. Killian brought a soft kiss to her forehead and she hummed contentedly. She intertwined their legs to stay as close to him as possible, and the last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep was Killian's muttered good night.