Pure smut.

Threesome smut.

SMUT.

LOTS OF SEX PEOPLE, DIRTY TALKING, ROUGH, THREESOME SEX.

Story takes placed in cursed Storybrooke a few weeks after Emma gets to town. Killian (Hook) was sent over with the curse instead of staying behind in the Enchanted Forest. There's not much of a plot. Lots of sex. I tried to invoke a little emotion...but yeah this is just pure smut (rated M-obviously), will edit more tomorrow.

If it's not your thing just don't read ;)

Shout out to Nini (hey Nini!) for introducing Irish Swan Trio to the world *cries uncontrollably*

Disclaimer- I don't own OUAT.

Um please review?! ;)

Standing in the small bedroom, her fingers nearly quivering in anticipation and her breathing coming in and out in quick and slightly shallow puffs, Emma reached down to pull her shirt over her head, taking a moment to consider how exactly she had gotten to this point, and whether or not she should back out now.

She was more than a little tipsy, undeniably fucking horny, and stripping in front of two men who practically hated each other as they watched on from opposite sides of the room in rapt and captivated silence.

What was her life anymore?

Ending up here, in the small, slightly outdated apartment, had definitely not been on her list for potential ways to end her night.

She had planned on getting drunk, maybe finding someone for a discreet and quick fuck, sending them on their way with a warning to never contact her again, and then spending the rest of the night figuring out her next move when it came to dealing with Regina and her odd and somewhat frightening hold over the town of Storybrooke.

She had not planned on engaging in a threesome with two, slightly off, but undeniably attractive men.

Her night had taken an odd and somewhat thrilling turn to say the least.

One minute she had been closing up her tab at The Rabbit Hole, signing her name on the dotted line and brushing off the drunken advances of the creep sitting to her right (even she had standards) and then the next she'd been in the middle of an argument, watching as Killian and Graham traded insults as they stood toe to toe with each other, their eyes blazing and their fists clenched with the threat of simmering violence.

Initially she had brushed them off, making her way out, intent on exiting the bar and leaving them to their pissing match, but unfortunately she had quickly come to realize through the murmurings in the crowd that they were fighting about her.

Apparently, Killian had made a suggestive remark when he had first walked into the place and had noticed her, and Graham, having a drink off duty had overheard, and had quickly shot back some sharp retort. Things had escalated from there, as things often do when alcohol and penises are involved, and the two of them had quickly caused a scene.

Feeling embarrassed and more than a little annoyed she had stepped in, raking them over the coals for being a bunch of idiots and nearly decking them both in the face for drawing so much unwanted attention.

It wasn't until she had left the bar cursing them both to hell and back that she had realized that both had followed her; Graham falling all over himself to get her to listen to him, and Killian smirking somewhat smugly at his side—throwing in a quip here and there seemingly just for the hell of it.

Suddenly, she had snapped.

Tired, sex-deprived, and sick to death of the in the middle of fucking no-where town, she had lost it.

She had sent Killian a scathing look, commenting about his lack of tact when it came to women, curious if it actually worked for him, waving his answers away before he had the chance to respond. And not wanting the sheriff to feel left out, she had hissed at Graham, reminding him that she could take care of herself, muttering under her breath that she was a grown ass woman and maybe, just maybe, she had ended up at The Rabbit Hole that night looking for exactly what Killian had implied.

That had shut them both up—their stunned looks and hanging mouths would have been almost comical had she not been so pissed.

But all too suddenly, the brief moment of shock induced stupor had passed, and they had both started arguing once again.

Killian had laughed when her words had sunk in and raising a brow suggestively at her, he had offered his arm in the most gentlemanly of ways while promising something much more inappropriate than his action suggested with the roaming of his gaze and the tilt of his lips. Graham had stepped forward, blocking Killian's path, his eyes had lingered on her somewhat curiously as something unreadable had flashed in his stare, before angrily he had snapped his focus back to the other man, his tone terse and clipped, he had told him to give it a goddamned rest.

The following exchanging of insults had been tiring and repetitive to say the least.

It wasn't until she had started walking once again, the noise behind her fading abruptly, that she had realized she had barked something over her shoulder about them either leaving her the hell alone or shutting the fuck up and joining her.

She had just barely controlled her shaking fingers and suddenly weak knees when she had realized that they had both silently decided on the latter, following her quickly without so much as a question or comment.

Maybe she had had more whiskey than she had realized, the number of refills she had asked for at the bar a hazy and distant number.

Regardless the rest was a blur—Killian had guided them away from Granny's where she had been heading and instead had steered them in the direction of his small apartment near the water, claiming it'd be best for the sake of discretion. They hadn't said much on the walk over—the atmosphere tense, unreliable, and somewhat uncomfortable.

She had thought herself over her adventurous sex phase.

Clearly she'd been wrong.

Upon arriving at his place, she had traded pleasantries for straightforwardness and had promptly asked Killian where the bedroom was, marching there without so much of a backwards glance when he had pointed her in the direction.

They had followed.

Of course they had followed.

She had obviously implied that she wanted sex and neither of them was willing to back down, both clearly unprepared to allow the other to sweep in and give her what she clearly sought.

So because they had some fucked up rivalry, some odd and silent competition brewing between them, she suddenly found herself alone with them, prepared to throw caution to the wind, because they were too attractive for their own good and she hadn't gotten laid in almost half a year.

And the whiskey didn't help.

It definitely didn't help.

Shaking her head, ridding herself of her vague and foggy thoughts, Emma tossed her shirt to the side, unsnapping her bra and watching as Killian suddenly pushed himself from the wall, his eyes bright and blue, finding hers through the darkness as his good hand moved to his own shirt, undoing the buttons quickly and without seemingly a hint of hesitation. Pausing for a moment, taking some time to gather her thoughts, and possibly gain a bit more courage, she debated for what seemed like the hundredth time whether or not this was the dumbest or smartest thing she'd ever done—a large part of her heavily leaning towards the former even as her body hummed and she felt herself grow damp between her thighs. Noticing Graham shifting slightly in the corner, seemingly bristling to attention by the sight of Killian taking action, she could barely contain a shudder as the realization of what was about to occur suddenly hit her hard.

She was about to fuck them.

Both of them.

Two men who hated each other.

Two men who clearly wanted her.

Two men she was hardly familiar with.

Still new to town she really knew so little about both men. While she doubted either of them had some murky hidden past or some troubled wayward mind, the facts she had gathered and the interaction she had experienced firsthand were few and far between.

Despite the fact that he had placed her behind bars multiple times since her arrival, Graham seemed like a decent enough guy. Appearing sincerely concerned for Henry's well-being he seemed genuinely happy to see her anytime they ran into each other in town, always offering a bit of advice or helpfully pointing her in the right direction when she found herself lost or turned around. Although, even with his kind eyes and easy smile, she had to admit that his relationship with Regina was shady at best, the way the temperamental woman talked to him and treated him leaving something to be desired. And she tried to tell herself it didn't bother her, failing miserably when she attempted to claim she didn't care.

Killian was a different story; where Graham was polite and courteous Killian was slightly obnoxious and unashamedly blunt. The first time she had met him, she'd been down by the docks. Walking off her racing thoughts and her confusing feelings about being found by the son she had given up so many years ago, she had bumped into him accidentally, nearly falling backwards by the force of the impact. When he had steadied her with his good hand and stump, his touch unabashedly lingering, he had stared at her hard, almost as if expecting for her to shudder at the mere fact that he was missing his left hand and holding her with what remained of his arm. Instead she had merely raised an eyebrow and had coolly asked to be released, holding his stare so he knew it wasn't his lack of a hand that was disturbing her so much as his blatant refusal to let her go. Almost unintentionally, she had found out through small town gossip that he was a musician who played at the town's few bars and Storybrooke's sole theater—his local following unsurprisingly almost entirely female. She had also quickly found out that he had decided to make seeking her out a habit—shooting blatant innuendos and suggestive offers her way anytime they crossed paths.

After only being in town for a few weeks, she had swiftly come to learn that the upstanding sheriff and the brooding musician didn't exactly enjoy each others company. Through the grape vine and Ruby's compulsive need to gossip uncontrollably she had discovered that Graham was certain that Killian was behind a slew of robberies that had taken place in the more upscale part of town, while Killian made no secret of his dislike for the sheriff and his ties to a certain callous mayor. It didn't help, Ruby had pointed out somewhat smugly, that both of them had set their sights on her.

And she had bristled at the implication, blowing off Ruby's comment, and refusing to show any kind of reaction.

Her one and only concern in the small fucked up town was ensuring Henry's safety—nothing else mattered. She only planned on staying for as long as it took to make sure that his mother wasn't the evil woman the young boy claimed she was.

So for the most part she had ignored them both.

Except for now….now she was doing anything but ignoring them.

Now she was doing the very opposite of ignoring, paying close attention to each as they rid themselves of their clothing—leather pants quickly dropping to the ground, dark jeans on the other side of the room following suit.

For a moment all she could do was stare; taking in the sight of both men as they stood before her in all their naked glory. Graham was light, smooth, and lean, his golden hued skin contrasting perfectly with Killian's taut muscular body—his chest covered in dark hair, which was just barely visible in the dim light of the room.

She'd be lying if she said her eyes didn't dip lower almost immediately. She was only human, and she couldn't help but rake her gaze over the sight of their already hard cocks jutting out between their legs; the sight more than a little impressive, as both stared at her expectantly, her mouth going dry and her throat narrowing fractionally.

She was going to die.

But first, first, she was going to get fucked.

Properly and thoroughly fucked.

"Emma, sweetheart…." Killian's accented voice broke through the near deafening silence, drawing her attention to him as she tore her eyes from the lower halves of their bodies.

"Hmm?" her voice sounded somewhat raspy, a slight tremor wavering in her tone. And drawing her lower lip into her mouth, she tried to regain her focus, attempting to calm the voices in her head that were suddenly and loudly questioning her rash and somewhat careless actions.

Because sure on top of being undeniably fucking hot, it was also slightly awkward, somewhat embarrassing, and a little more than weird—the repercussions of sleeping with the town's sheriff and the bad-boy musician in a small place like Storybrooke left much to be desired.

But still, even knowing that, even fully and completely aware that this would definitely come back to bite her in the ass, she couldn't, wouldn't, for the life of her back down.

The very thought seemed next to impossible.

"Are you sure about this?"

It was Graham who spoke, his tone sounding strained and slightly lower than normal, and listening to it she couldn't help but wonder how the hell two such attractive men just simply happened to have voices that made her want to do horrible and delicious things. Things to herself, things to them, things she never truly realized she had wanted until now— her legs clenching together tightly as she considered them carefully. Watching closely as Graham stepped forward once, she took note as he paused for a moment, seemingly rethinking his actions before moving towards her once again and closing the space between them.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." His voice whispered the assurance softly, even as he reached out and cupped her face lightly, his large hands framing her cheeks and warming her skin.

"I—I know." She murmured it quickly; and refusing to over think it, deciding to just blame everything on her alcohol intake, she placed her hands over his, gripping them lightly as she stared up into his clear and gentle eyes. Heart pounding, stomach flipping, she leaned forward and before he had the chance to say anything else, before she had the chance to reconsider, she silenced him with a soft and eager kiss.

His lips were gentle, their kiss slow and exploring; his hands gripping her face tighter, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth and slowly, leisurely dueled with hers, kissing her thoroughly, deeply, and expertly— a soft sigh escaping her as she let herself fall more completely into his gentle caress.

It wasn't until she felt the heavy presence at her back that she realized that Killian had moved from his side of the room. Coming to stand behind her, she jumped a little when she felt the faintest brush of lips on her shoulder, the hint of teeth and scratch of stubble that followed causing a moan to ripple up from her throat as Graham deepened their kiss, taking advantage and sweeping his tongue further into her mouth.

It was already too much.

And still not enough.

When Killian's hand trailed down her arm to the waistband of the jeans she still wore, she tensed for a moment, turning her head to the side and noting when Graham's hands fell away from her face—closing her eyes as they broke their kiss and he simply made do with the side of her neck, nuzzling it softly.

"These need to come off darling." Killian informed her quietly, his lilting voice whispering in her ear as he quickly and nimbly unbuttoned her pants and lowered her zipper, his fingers dipping inside without warning to rub her through her underwear.

"Oh God." She whispered the words, her voice shaky as she leaned against him heavily, swallowing thickly as his fingers danced and played over her—her folds growing wetter, her body getting hotter.

Yes. No. More. Now.

Drawing his fingers out of her pants, Killian placed them on her face; cupping her chin and forcing her neck back so that she was looking him straight in the eyes. It was unnatural, the bright and vibrant blue depths, the heat in his stare. And letting out a shuddering breath, meeting his unwavering and intense gaze, she shook her head slightly before closing her eyes and welcoming his kiss.

Where Graham had been gentle and slow, Killian was possessive and slightly punishing, demanding that she keep up with him and nearly devouring her whole. Nipping at her lips, once, twice, he forced her into an erotic and challenging dance, grinding against her ass gently, he released her face and drew her hand into his good one, guiding it upwards to hook around his neck. Needing little encouragement, she fisted her fingers in his hair, pulling his head closer and tilting hers to the side so that she could keep up with his fast and bruising pace.

So focused on her kiss with Killian, her competitive side roaring to life and determined to give as good as she got, she just barely noticed when Graham began kissing his way down her body, trailing his lips over her breasts, drawing them into his mouth carefully and paying special attention to her nipples as he swirled his tongue and dragged his teeth. Gasping, she moaned softly, the feel of Killian's erection hard against her ass and Graham's lips on her breasts slightly overwhelming and undeniably arousing.

She was going to pay for this later.

You didn't just get to screw around with two men like Killian and Graham without paying the consequences.

But apparently, decidedly, it was a risk she was willing to take.

"I think you need to come sweetheart." It was Killian who spoke, pulling her from her slightly disturbing musings. His voice vaguely amused, he broke the kiss and held her gaze—a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes glimmered with a seductive and slightly dangerous gleam.

And before she could answer him, completely caught up in his stare, she just barely registered the feel of Graham kneeling in front of her, his hands on either side of her hips, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and tugged her pants down, forcing her to lean more heavily against Killian. Dimly, almost unconsciously, she lifted a leg, allowing Graham to pull one boot off and then another before he ridded her of the rest of her clothes completely. She had just settled back on both feet again, a shuddering breath whooshing out of her as she tried to calm her racing heart and cluttered mind, when she felt his lips trailing up her inner thigh, his hot kissing bringing a wave of goosebumps rising to her skin.

Yep, she was so fucked.

And glancing down, her body suddenly trembling in anticipation and her arm, still hooked around Killian's neck, fisting into his hair once again; she watched as Graham dusted his mouth upwards; his teeth scraping her skin lightly as he made his way to where she was absolutely aching for him and unashamedly dripping wet, nearly groaning in frustration when he paused for a moment and considered her bare and wet sex.

She needed his goddamned mouth on her now.

When his tongue finally flicked out over her clit, she was surprised she didn't fall to the ground then and there, her eyes widening and her knees going weak as her gaze drifted up to find Killian still watching her intently—the heat in his stare nearly scorching, the way the fingers of his good hand settled at and dug into her hip sending a pinch of pain and a jolt of desire coursing through her.

She knew she should feel embarrassed, exposed and vulnerable but she couldn't muster up the strength to feel anything but aroused and wanton—the protesting voices in her head fading away to nothing more than a soft and buzzing murmur. What was happening felt too good, seemed too right, for her to care about consequences and regrets. Tomorrow she'd over analyze things and kick herself in the ass for fucking things up, but now, now she was just going to enjoy what was happening, intent on focusing on every touch and caress.

Drawing her lower lip into her mouth, Emma couldn't help the gasp that rushed out of her when Graham's tongue circled around her slowly and leisurely, a small grunt escaping his lips before he attacked her more thoroughly—the image of Killian's eyes darkening at her pleasured reaction forever implanting itself into her brain.

"Oh…oh my God." She was barely able to mutter the words; her throat felt so tight and raw, the ability to speak coherently nearly leaving her entirely. Allowing her arm to fall from around Killian's neck, she turned from him completely to rest limply against his chest, her hips rearing forward as Graham worked her, licking and suckling her from below

"That's it darling, let yourself go." It was Killian speaking again, his erection grinding into her ass once more, he removed his hand from her hip, trailing his fingers up to her breasts to tweak and pay special attention to her nipples once again— the sensation coupled with Graham's tongue swirling and flicking over and around her clit practically driving her mad.

She could feel the beginnings of an orgasm start to simmer inside of her; her entire body flushing hotter, her heart racing faster, and her mind dimming and going fuzzier.

So good.

It all felt so, so, good.

She was going to die.

Pushing herself against Killian, she moaned when she came into contact with his arousal once more, shuddering as it slid against her ass and up her back and swallowing down the whimper of need as the urge to have him fuck her from behind bubbled up inside of her.

She wanted it hard and brutal and fast and…

And good God, that nearly did her in—images of the dark musician bending her over the bed, taking her roughly as the good sheriff looked on swirling in her brain.

Thrusting herself into Graham's mouth, she trembled when he brought his hands up suddenly to place them on either side of her hips, gripping her tightly before delving his tongue into her and tasting her deeply; the feeling causing her to cry out as she somewhat weakly brought her hands up to rest in his hair. Holding him to her, she dazedly rocked against his face—the feel of his scruff, scratching and scraping her sensitive skin nearly sending her over the edge.

"Emma."

Killian.

His voice, like pure sex itself, sounded like it was coming through a narrowed tunnel, the feel of his hand on her breast, the sensation of his lips trailing up her neck, nibbling and licking her, only encouraging her to grip Graham's hair tighter as he fucked her deeply with his tongue, his hands kneading into her skin as he held her firmly in place.

"Let go." Killian breathed, whispering the demand into her skin.

And then pinching her nipple and shifting against her, he bit down on her somewhat harshly, marking her in the sensitive spot where her neck and shoulder met—the action synchronized with Graham as he sucked on her clit, and suddenly and without warning thrust a finger up inside of her, nearly bringing her to her knees as a fast and sudden orgasm hit her hard.

A shot of pleasure coursing through her, she sobbed out a trembling cry, murmuring both their names and cursing them violently—her eyes screwing shut tight as she fell back against Killian, his mouth still on her shoulder nipping and soothing as Graham replaced his finger with his tongue, groaning deeply when he tasted her climax.

She'd never survive it.

She was sure of it, ecstasy continuing to take hold of her, she tried her hardest to ride out the waves, part of her shooting to another place entirely, the sensation of flying taking over her for a moment as her walls clenched tightly and her legs nearly gave out on her; white blinding light flashing before her eyes before faintly she became aware of her surroundings once again—her hips still rocking, her hands still holding Graham in place.

Jesus.

She was pretty sure she'd seen stars.

Hell she'd probably seen the whole damned universe.

Panting, her chest heaving and pulse racing, it took her a while to gather her bearings, her stomach fluttering rapidly, her knees more than a little wobbly and her eyes hazy and unfocused, struggling to see. For a moment, she dimly wondered what the hell had taken them so long; weeks of heatedly bantering with Killian and politely skirting around her attraction with Graham suddenly seemed like time worthlessly wasted as she continued to come down from her high.

Only vaguely did she acknowledge the whispers in her head that spoke of the regret she'd feel later.

Tomorrow.

Straightening somewhat shakily, Emma watched through fogged vision as Graham knelt back from her; his mouth glistening and wet, he licked his lips carefully as she slowly met his eyes. "Fuck." She whispered the word softly, almost unconsciously as she stared at him heatedly, her entire body tingling from the aftermath of her violent orgasm.

"Soon." Killian promised her, turning her away from the sheriff and grinning down at her smugly, his eyes flickering past her for a moment to Graham who was rising from the floor slowly. "Pity he got to experience you coming undone first." He muttered, the smirk on his lips and the dark look in his eyes causing her already pounding heart to skip a beat before hammering even faster. "I'll have to be sure to claim your next one." He murmured the promise smoothly, and then dipping his head, brushed his lips over hers, pulling back before she could lean into him and grinning when she shot him a confused and slightly exasperated look.

"But first I want you to taste yourself on him." And without another word he spun her around and thrust her towards Graham, the other man catching her easily and pulling her to him without hesitation.

Jesus Christ.

Their movements so in synch, their actions so effortless, if she hadn't known any better she'd guess their whole rivalry was a complete act, a way to get sexually deprived (or was it depraved?) woman like herself into their beds—a small pawn to their sinister plan.

"Emma." Graham said her name once, softly, tenderly, effectively gaining her attention and controlling her focus. And then lowering his head, he crashed his lips to her, the gentleness of their first kiss gone, replaced by hot and wild passion—the taste of herself on his mouth tangy and unfamiliar and incredibly arousing.

Rising up on her tip toes she molded her body to his; snaking her arms up to hook her hands around his neck, she kissed him deeply, their tongues warring together as his cock teased between her thighs, brushing where she was still so sensitive—her walls clenching tightly as she whimpered into his mouth.

She needed more.

Good god she just really needed to be fucked.

Almost as if reading her mind, Graham pulled away, his chest heaving and his eyes hot as he stepped back from her and unwrapped her arms from around him, his lips pulling upwards into a slight smile at her moan of protest. "Get on the bed." He told her softly; his hand drifting down to his erection, he stroked it once, as he motioned towards the mattress behind them.

Right.

Bed.

Sex.

Now.

Swallowing, her eyes lingering on him, she nodded once, disregarding everything inside of her that suddenly roared to life and attempted one last time to convince her that this was wrong; instead she once again pushed the argument to the side and shuffled over to the bed.

She wanted this.

Lowering herself down without further thought or objection, she settled herself onto the middle of the soft mattress, trying to tell herself that she was fine. She had come this far. She had already experienced one mind-blowing orgasm. She was most likely in for at least one more. She was fine.

This was fine.

Raising her head, she leveled her gaze, watching as both men stood at the edge of the bed, Graham still stroking himself as his watched her carefully, Killian staring at her hotly, his gaze roaming over every inch of her without shame.

Move!

She wanted to scream it, nearly desperate for one of them to do something—the ache between her thighs nearly pulling a whimper of need and a desperate cry of desire from her lips. Resting back on her elbows, she bent her knee slightly, waiting, beckoning, praying, for one of them to make their move soon.

Please, dear god, please.

And then meeting her eyes, Killian smiled at her wickedly, his teeth bright and white, forming a devastating and promising grin as his eyes darkened considerably. Moving fast, he crawled onto the bed and pushing her down, settled himself between her thighs as if he had truly and had always belonged there—the ease and comfort with which he moved over her slightly off-putting, as was the way he braced himself on his bad arm so that he could take a moment to brush a blonde curl away from her face.

"Hey beautiful." He whispered softly, his lips mere inches from hers as he rocked his hips against her gently, smiling when her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and a soft sigh escaped her lips—her hands coming up to grasp his shoulders tightly.

"Hey." She breathed back, feeling a bit awkward with the weight of his body over hers; a sudden and suffocating feeling taking hold of her as she noticed her line of vision to Graham was blocked.

Killian had always overwhelmed her, his blatant innuendos and his blunt suggestions seemingly masking some deeper desire, some darker pain—the combination a little more than dangerous. In a way she felt connected to him, in a sense she felt as if he could read her, the way his eyes narrowed fractionally and his gaze searched her intently whenever she brushed him off more than a little alarming.

He saw too much.

Realizing they had been quiet for quite a while now, his hand lingering in her hair and her body shaking slightly beneath his, she opened her mouth to say something, intent on lightening the mood and breaking the silence. Her words however, were cut off and she had to bite back a yelp of surprise when without warning he shot her a somewhat sly smirk before pushing himself into her hard and fast, filling her deeply and groaning loudly as her back arched off the bed and her hips met his without hesitation.

"God Emma." He ground her name out past gritted teeth, his jaw clenching and his brow furrowing as his pulled out abruptly only to slam back into her once again, something unreadable flashing in his eyes and passing over his features as she let out a long and low moan. "You're so wet. Jesus…do you feel how wet you are."

She didn't answer him; she couldn't have even if she had wanted to. Her head thrown back, she merely tightened her grip around him, the pants and whimpers that escaped her mouth sounding unnatural and foreign as he rocked against her slowly.

It felt good.

Too good.

It was as if he knew exactly where to touch her, aware of just how to move.

As he shifted his angle, hitting her deeply again, stroking her knowingly, her legs wrapped around his waist. And pulling him even closer, she opened her eyes; watching as his body rippled over hers slowly, her name spilling from his lips, his forehead mere inches away from hers as their chests heaved and their huffing breaths mingled—it all seemed so natural, so completely right.

Blinking fast, she suddenly realized how intimate it was.

Too intimate.

Too familiar.

For a moment, it almost seemed as if he was making love to her.

Not fucking her.

This wasn't what she had wanted; and she felt her whole body tense with the jarring realization. She had needed physical release, not a close and intimate encounter. And feeling her chest suddenly begin to constrict, her throat tightening far too narrow, as panic and alarm began to well up inside of her, she pushed herself further into the mattress, attempting to put some much-needed space between them as he continued to slowly and expertly thrust himself into her—the confusion in her brain even more clouded by the jolts of pleasure shooting through her fast.

He must have sensed the sudden change in her.

Straightening suddenly, and pulling out of her, so that he was kneeling between her legs rather than resting himself on top of her, the tip of his cock still teasing her entrance, Killian peered down at her closely, his eyes finding hers and imploring her silently before slight understanding passed over his dark features, dawning in his vibrant gaze. He knew. Abruptly he seemed to realize right then and there just how fucked up she was—she could have a threesome with seemingly no qualms but the minute it got too intimate she started to close herself up. And she wanted to hate him at that moment for the way he could read her effortlessly and without thought; his stare burning into her and making her feel more stripped and exposed than she had felt only moments ago when she had undressed herself in front of him and Graham.

Bastard.

His lips tugging downwards into a slight frown before shifting up into a hint of a grin Killian nodded at her once, and then, letting out a soft grunt he pushed into her hard, the new distance between their bodies and the fast and somewhat bruising pace of his thrusts changing the mood considerably.

"Fuck me." She panted it softly, the words whooshing out of her as he rested his stump and hand on her hips, driving himself into her harshly and causing spots of light to spark in front of her eyes.

"I believe that's exactly what I'm doing darling." He muttered, his tone both strained and amused as he continued to fuck her, his eyes drifting downwards, watching as he pulled out of her only to slam back into her again, the way his eyebrows narrowed and his jaw clenched as he took in the sight of his cock going in and out of her body bringing a soft and needy moan from her throat.

Oh God.

She was going to come again.

She didn't want to come again…not yet.

Drawing her lower lip into her mouth, she tossed her head to the side, her eyes drifting to and focusing on Graham who had moved closer to the bed—the sight of him stroking his cock as he watched her getting fucked by another man causing something in her stomach to flip, her walls fluttering around Killian and dragging a groan from him as he shifted his angle above her and pushed himself deeper into her.

She was so close, so very close.

No.

Not yet.

She needed more.

Wanted more.

Had to have more.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

And before she could reconsider, before she could allow those nagging voices in her head to become clearer, she motioned Graham towards her, watching as he paused for a second before shifting closer to the bed quickly. And crawling over to her, he stared down at her somewhat expectantly; his eyes, usually so soft and clear, were now stormy and intense, and beautiful. Settling near her head, she took note of the way his gaze drifted to where she and Killian were joined, his features tightening considerably as Killian continued to drive into her somewhat roughly—the sound of the latter's harsh breathing and muttered curses filling the otherwise silent room.

"Graham." She whispered it quietly, his name coming out on a pant as Killian drew his good hand between them and began fingering her clit. And feeling a burst of pleasure shoot throughout her, a soft cry spilling from her lips, she reached out suddenly; her fingers grasping Graham's length, she began to stroke him rapidly—the feel of Killian fucking her and Graham's cock hot and pulsing in her hand nearly too much to take.

"That's a good girl."

Killian's roughened voice shot through the room, and moaning and tilting her hips upwards she tightened her grip on Graham; her hand moving up and down his length staying in synch with the way Killian was thrusting into her and causing a deep and steady pressure to kindle low in her belly.

"Oh God Emma."

Hearing Graham's broken voice, seeing the way his eyes were flitting between Killian driving himself into her and her hand wrapped tightly around him, she felt the pressure continue to coil as her body almost violently began to tremble.

Heat so much heat.

"You're so tight." Killian pulled back, his fingers stilling on her clit for a moment before he reared his hips forward, sinking into her deeply. "I want to feel you come on my cock. Fuck, I want him to see you come for me."

No.

Just no.

There was no way she could stand such heat.

"Oh god." She practically purred the words, dimly noting the way Graham groaned softly, swearing under his breath when her hand stilled on him, her hips tilting upwards fractionally as she felt the beginnings of an orgasm begin to take hold of her fast.

"You like that don't you sweetheart. You enjoy having me inside of you like this." Killian stopped again, the tip of his length sliding into her before he paused once more, his teeth gritting, his hands, both good and bad, digging into her. "Do you want him to fuck you too? Do you want me to watch him fuck you Emma?"

His words, coupled with his deep slightly frantic thrust sent her over the edge.

Gasping, her hand falling away from Graham to claw at the tangled sheets beneath her, she came hard, wave after violent wave of pleasure crashing over her as Killian continued to pound into her fast, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing in her ears as she sobbed and shuddered beneath him—the way her body reacted nearly overwhelming as ecstasy wracked her, shaking her to her very core.

Too much. Not enough. Stop. More…

More, more, more!

Abruptly, quickly, she felt him pull out of her, replacing his cock with his fingers, he drew out her orgasm, the sensation of feeling somewhat empty quickly fading as he muttered something about not wanting to come just yet, his words causing her to whimper softly as she considered the implications before all thoughts fled her and she continued to ride out her orgasm—her body moving sinuously up and down as hushed and raspy sounds escaped her lips.

When she was spent, her body feeling thoroughly and undeniably used, she opened her eyes, surprised that she had closed them in the first place—her breathing labored and uneven, her vision hazy and unfocused. And watching as Killian stared down at her hard, she raised a brow, trying to muster up the strength to appear somewhat indignant and unaffected, even as her heart beat near painfully; her hand coming up to brush her hair, wild and tangled, from her face.

Silence, such horrible deafening silence.

"Are you alright Swan?" Killian asked her, his tone deep and sounding only slightly concerned as his eyes drifted to Graham who had shifted his position on the bed.

Nodding somewhat numbly, she cleared her throat, her body still humming and tingling as she averted her eyes from his, her still somewhat clouded mind threatening to clear and drag her back to reality. "I'm—I'm fine."

"Good."

A slow smile spread across his lips, and sitting back and away from her, he suddenly reached down and pulled her forward towards the very edge of the bed, causing her to tumble onto her chest, a curse on the tip of her tongue as she pushed herself up on her hands.

"What the—"

"That's it darling, hands and knees."

And before she could shoot him a smart retort, she felt a presence at her back, her eyes widening when she realized Graham was positioning himself behind her, his hands big and rough sweeping down her back to rest on the sides of her ass. She felt used and raw and somewhat sore from Killian but feeling Graham nudge himself between her still wet folds she closed her eyes as a flood of desire rushed over her.

She shouldn't want this.

She shouldn't' need this.

But good god…

"Do you want me to stop?" Graham's voice was both soft and gruff; his accent more noticeable, he tensed behind her, his fingers digging into her skin as he waited for her to answer.

Stop?

No.

Yes.

Never.

Please.

"No." she whispered the word, her answer shaky and quiet and anything but convincing.

But it was enough.

Suddenly she was being stretched and filled again, Graham pushing into her fluidly from behind, claiming her and taking her as Killian looked on from where he stood in front of her.

Why the hell did she think this was okay?

How in the hell did she expect her body to recover from this?

Her tongue darting out to lick her lips, her nails digging into the mattress, she barked out a sound that was a mixture between a yelp and a moan as Graham pulled out of her quickly and pushed back into her deeply. She was surprised by the forcefulness of his thrusts; underneath the authoritative persona of the town sheriff he had always seemed so considerate and gentle. But right now, at this moment, he was anything but, his thrusts fast and fierce hitting her in just the right place as she moaned and panted and pushed herself back against him.

Everything seemed to happen in a blur—her eyes fluttering open and then closed again, her limbs alternating from shaky to tense, and her cries shifting from breathy and soft to loud and almost shrill like.

"So good Emma. Oh God so fucking good…" Graham fumbled with his words, his movements faltering slightly before picking up once again.

And then, as his grip on her tightened to the point of almost painful (she was sure she'd have finger shaped bruises on her skin the next morning) she felt something warm dust across her mouth, her eyes flashing open and widening when she saw Killian standing directly in front of her, his thumb brushing her lips softly.

"Open up Swan…I'm not done with you yet."

And before she could respond he replaced his finger with his cock, urging her to part her lips as he nudged himself into her mouth.

She wanted to laugh at him.

She wanted to glare at him and shake her head and tell him no fucking way.

But finding the reaction next to impossible, she opened her mouth instead and greedily took him in, humming around his length as Graham's thrusts became more frantic. It was the most erotic thing she'd ever done and she wanted to hate herself for it, but she couldn't bring herself to muster up the emotion so she thrilled in it instead, her eyes growing big when Killian gripped the back of her head and began to fuck her mouth.

Too much.

She couldn't breath, she couldn't think, and trying to pull away, her eyes flashed to his when he merely tightened his hold and continued to pump himself in and out of her mouth, his cock brushing the back of her throat and nearly causing her to gag.

And oh God she should really hate him.

"Fuck you're so wet Emma."

Graham's voice ripped her from her thoughts, her eyes closing almost in shame, as his statement hung in the air, the way he continued to push into her causing her whole body to heat and flush hotly.

"She likes this." Killian murmured, his hold on her head gentling as he slowed his thrusts into her mouth. "Don't you darling? You're really getting off on this…on your hands and knees getting fucked from behind with your lips wrapped around my cock. You feel full." He pushed himself deeper into her mouth, pausing when she made a strangled noise, grinning when she made no move to pull away. "It makes you feel dirty, used…empowered."

Shut up.

She wished he'd stop talking.

She wished he'd never stop talking.

Moving his hand, he stroked the side of her face, his blue eyes shooting over her head when Graham's thrust began to pick up; his actions near frenzied, causing her body to lurch forward—her breasts swinging, and Killian's length sliding further into her mouth as she was forced forward again and again by the punishing pace set behind her.

They were close.

Both of them.

She could tell by the way Killian's hand suddenly fisted in her hair and by the sound of Graham's broken voice ringing out and swearing violently—their bodies stiff and tense signaling their impending release. And dazedly, shocked and somewhat shaken, she realized with some awe and slight dread that she was close too—her body almost protesting the thought of having to endure another orgasm.

Suddenly she wasn't sure she could take it anymore—really and truly take it.

She felt as if she were on fire; the room hot and stifling suddenly seemed too small, the noises of their heavy breathing and labored grunts and groans too loud, the heady scent of sex and arousal lingering in the air too strong. She could barely breathe. And just as she was about to shake her head, cry and beg for it all to end, she felt Graham still behind her, heard him whisper her name once before spilling himself all over her; his release dripping down her ass and sliding between her thighs as he shuddered and collapsed against her.

She had done that to him.

Her walls clenched and fluttered, her heart stopped before beating frantically and she felt herself begin to shake with her own looming climax. And moaning around Killian, her arms quivering and her mind going dark, another orgasm once again took hold of her, this time slow and somewhat lazy. Through the haze of pleasure, her eyes shot upwards fast when Killian's fingers grasped her face. His stare, searching and penetrating, met hers—a pained look dimming his features before fading quickly when she merely nodded once, giving her consent to his unspoken question.

When he came with a muffled oath, spurting into her mouth, she struggled to swallow, barely registering the feeling as it rushed past her lips and dripped down her chin—the taste salty and slightly bitter.

And good God she felt like a whore.

She just wished that she could muster up the decency and self-worth to truly care.

Her own release much less intense than the others, ended quickly, and finally, finally unable to hold herself up any longer Emma allowed Killian to withdraw himself from her mouth and collapsed on the bed, utterly and completely spent.

For a moment she said nothing—her body coming back to itself gradually, her mind struggling to clear, and her heart desperately trying to slow. Lying on the mattress, face down, panting and exhausted; she frowned tightly, her stomach clenching as she vaguely noted when the slow and creeping feeling of awareness suddenly made itself known.

And there it was.

Self-loathing and regret.

No.

No!

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow she'd hate herself.

Now she didn't have the time or the strength—her still buzzing head gently reminding her of the number of drinks she had consumed earlier that night.

Now, regardless of how much she had the surprising urge to sit back and relax in the bed—images of her head on Killian's chest while Graham caressed her from behind flashing before her eyes— she just wanted to get the hell out of the apartment without having to look either of them in the eye; her emotional walls strong and sturdy as ever suddenly shifting and moving back into place.

Leave.

Now.

"Bathroom." Her voice sounded croaked and unfamiliar as she spoke the word, and watching as Killian raised an eyebrow from where he was standing slightly off to the side of her, she ripped her focus away and merely nodded when he murmured something about it being just down the hall.

Sitting up fast, she jumped off the bed, gathering her clothes quickly and walking in the direction he had indicated, ignoring Graham when he said her name softly, cringing when he repeated it again, this time firmer and more determined—a quiet plea resonating in his voice. Rushing away from them fast, she dashed into the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind her for good measure.

Okay.

She was still slightly drunk.

Okay.

And she had just had earth-shattering sex with two men.

Okay.

And she was going to have to face them again.

Okay.

She was not going to freak out.

She was not going to panic.

Finding a towel she quickly cleaned herself up, ignoring the sounds of the muffled voices on the other side of the door and worrying her kiss-swollen lips as they started to raise—a possible argument on the verge of taking place. Pausing for a moment, she took in a deep breath before dragging her clothes on and dressing herself fast. Her eyes squinting and trying to adjust to the harsh light of the bathroom, she cursed when she stumbled against the counter, knocking a few things to the floor as she attempted to pull her boots on with hurried movements and weak and trembling fingers, biting her lip harder when the voices outside abruptly quieted.

Goddamnit what had she done?

Why was she so goddamn stupid?

Graham and Killian?

What. the. fuck?

Her gaze flitting towards the mirror, Emma took in the sight of her reflection, wincing at the image of her curls tousled messily, her cheeks flushed bright and pink, and her eyes hazed and glassy. Gripping either side of the counter, she steadied her breathing and collected her thoughts—she'd done the fuck and dash before, she could do it again.

No big deal.

"Get a grip." She hissed at herself and rolling her eyes at her still slightly husky voice, she made a disgusted face.

Sex-hair.

Sex-clothes.

Sex-voice.

Sex, sex, sex.

Turning from the sink, she took in one more deep breath and untucked her hair from under her leather coat, straightening her spine and smoothing her jeans, before opening the door. Walking out into the dimly lit hallway she stumbled to an ungraceful halt when she found Killian, sporting a pair of dark sweats and no shirt, waiting just outside.

"Where's Graham?" she questioned him, her eyes quickly moving away from his naked chest to search behind him.

"I sent him home."

She raised a brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she stepped around him and moved into the small living room, her eyes immediately focused on the door, her brain hitting overdrive and planning her escape.

"And he just left?"

"Disappointed?"

She could tell the question was meant to be light, but she could hear the genuine curiosity coupled with perhaps the slightest hint of jealousy laced in his tone. "Curious."

"I figured you'd want to walk it off…alone."

Turning to him as he came up behind her, she stepped back from him again, cruel and taunting pictures of him thrusting into her deeply, grasping her hair tightly and talking to her darkly flashing in her head.

Yeah…

She was so screwed.

Swallowing thickly, Emma nodded, trying to hide her gratefulness. The last thing she needed was for Graham to try to be sweet and understanding and gentlemanly—awkwardly offering to walk her home and ensuring she was okay.

"You just figured that huh?"

"You're somewhat of an open book love."

Her eyes snapping to his at the statement, Emma drew her lip into her mouth, hating the way her heart began to pick up in pace again as he stepped forward slowly, closing some of the space between them.

"I'm not staying." She whispered as he moved even nearer, everything closing in on her as his body brushed hers.

"I'm not asking you to." And moving forward again, he reached out and wrapped an arm her around her waist—everything inside of her protesting the touch even as she leaned into him without thought.

His eyes staring down at her hard, roamed over her face slowly—the blue so bright and breathtaking that she wondered, not for the first time, if it was his true color. And watching as he brought his good hand to her hair, fisting it there and tugging on a lock lightly, she licked her lips slowly, her body alert with anticipation.

"There's something different about you Emma Swan."

Watching the way his lips moved as he spoke, she breathed in the scent of him, noting how he always seemed to smell like the sea, wrapped up with a hint of rum and a touch of sin. "Oh?"

"Aye." His hand moving from her hair, to trail across her jaw-line, he nodded once—assuredly, firmly. "I do believe you're bound to shake things up in this town even more than you already have, and I for one look forward to the show."

"I just want to make sure my son is safe."

"Henry."

"Hmm?"

"You used to only refer to him as Henry…now he's your son."

Well, shit.

Somewhat shaken by his softly murmured observation, she watched as he leveled her with a knowing look, his features open and understanding as she quickly removed herself from his grip—taking a few steps back as his words echoed in her ears.

It was true.

First he had been just a kid.

Then Henry.

And now her son.

"I have to go." She said, the sure signs of panic once again rearing its ugly head—her body clammy, her breathing uneven, and her thoughts racing.

"Of course."

Moving fast, intent on leaving before he could call her back, Emma practically ran to the door, fumbling with the lock clumsily and cursing under her breath when she heard him come up behind her.

"Swan."

She refused to turn, her hand on the doorknob, and the other clenched tightly at her side. "What?"

"Word of warning…" she could feel him directly behind her, his hand suddenly brushing her hair to the side, she tensed when she felt his warm lips on her neck brushing her softly once, twice, before he straightened, her skin sparking and growing hot where his mouth had been. "I'm not done with you yet...and the next time I have you…it won't be so crowded."

Fuck.

And leaning over her, his body pushing into her lightly, it took every ounce of willpower she had in her not to turn to him as he reached for the deadbolt and unlocked the door for her—a blush heating her cheeks and a fierce curse echoing in her head when she realized she had missed it.

"Sweet dreams Emma."

She didn't answer him, instead she merely left, the heat of his gaze burning into her back as she quickly fled his apartment, everything that had happened—the whispered moans, hot words, bruising touches and undeniable pleasure— replaying in her head over and over again.

Stepping out into the dark night, she pushed back the bubble of self-loathing laced frustration, while welcoming the cold slightly wet breeze as it whipped around her angrily.

Tomorrow.

Tomrrow she'd freak out.

Tomorrow she'd go over every single reason why what she had done was a horrible horrible mistake.

Now she just wanted to go home.

And as she headed in the direction of Granny's she tried not to think too hard about the fact that she had come to consider the small inn and the people who lived and worked there somewhat of a home and not just a temporary place to stay—feeling uncomfortable with the confusing and conflicting rush of emotions that came with the realization.

Henry.

This fucked up town.

The people who lived in it.

They were all starting to rub off on her. Goddamn it they were all starting to grow on her.

Tomorrow.

She'd definitely start freaking out about all of it tomorrow.

Tonight she just needed sleep; tonight she just needed to do her best to forget about everything that had just happened; tonight she just needed peace.

And closing her eyes, she blocked out the too attractive faces of the considerate and safe sheriff and the intense and knowing musician from her thoughts.

Tomorrow.

And turning the corner, she briefly wondered how long she'd last before she allowed herself to indulge in a selfish and explicit fantasy, curious if her dreams would feature a soft gaze and gentle soothing touches or fierce blue eyes and dark and dangerous promises.

Something told her she wouldn't like the answer if she thought about it too hard.

End.

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