AN: Okay, here it is! I know it's been a while since the last part, but (not to make excuses or anything) I've been moving from California to North Carolina (via car), visiting family along the way, without Internet for the past two weeks. I just got internet, so here it is! I hope you enjoy this part. Just a warning, it is LONG! But so full of smutty goodness! I'd like to thank the readers and reviewers for this. You guys turned this one-shot into a 3-part story! I hope this lives up to the other two! - Bailey

Interrogation

Part 3

In the few weeks that have passed since their second fuck in the alley next to Granny's Diner, Emma hasn't been able to sleep without dreaming about him. The way his eyes deepened and dilated when he looked at her, the way he smirked arrogantly, the way his voice made her knees quiver. She can still feel the pirate's tongue on her holes as he's kneeling down behind her, the way his scruff scratches and chafes at the soft skin of her inner thighs. She uses the thoughts of that morning to fuel her own fantasies while she's in bed alone at night. She pretends his fingers are gliding through her slippery folds, penetrating her, and rubbing her. She imagines his hands grabbing her tits, pinching and rolling her nipples between his nimble fingers. She is embarrassed by how often she touches herself to thoughts of the sexy and charming Captain Hook.

Her work as town Sherriff and Savior hasn't been enough to distract her from worrying about him and what they were, if they were anything. Henry has kept her busy, as well, wanting to go on adventures and missions in order to "save the town". The constant running around has kept her from seeing him in town, if he's graced Storybrooke with his presence at all. She knows his ship is still in port because she can see the mast from the road on her drive to work. It's always a relieving site to see the folded sails and black flag high in the air. It means he's still around. Somewhere.

Tonight is much like every other night she's had lately. Henry is spending the weekend with Regina, Mary Margaret and David are away, as well, leaving Emma alone, exactly what she needs. The dark apartment is both inviting and stifling as she walks through the door, locking it behind her. Alone at last. Being the adult daughter of two parents her age and the birth mother of a boy adopted by an ex-Evil Queen can leave one with little to no alone time. Tonight is her night to sit back, relax, and have a couple of guilt-free drinks. No, alcohol isn't the answer to stress, but milk and cookies don't do anything either.

"Let the fun begin," Emma whispers to herself, dropping her keys and other belongings onto the kitchen counter. Opening up the fridge she finds some leftover pizza, success. Grabbing the box and placing it on the counter, she continues her search of the kitchen, opening up a cabinet and finding a bottle of dry red wine. She smiles to herself, grabbing the bottle and opening it with the dingy wine opener, knowing damn well that she bent it. It's not like her parents drank. Ever. So it wasn't a problem to break it. Pouring a full glass of wine, she grabs the box of pizza and the glass and makes her way over to the couch. Plopping down in the dark, she begins to eat the cold pizza, sipping the wine every other bite or so. This is exactly what she needs. Pizza, wine, and alone time in the darkness. The only time she's been able to relax, and she's only thinks about the seductive pirate occasionally.

Two hours and two bottles later, Emma is alert, but not oriented, on the couch, empty pizza box strewn on the floor. This alone time is beginning to be a little overrated if she was already bored at ten o'clock at night. One of the many downfalls of being the Savior was that she didn't have time for friends. Sure, Ruby was alright to be around, fun enough, even, but she was too wild and Emma didn't have the strength for wild right now. Now, drunk and bored, she didn't understand why she wanted this time to herself. All it did was give her time to think, and that was never good. She could sit on the couch and think about all the bad shit in her life, all the good that has come from it, and one person that made her furious and wet all at the same time.

Pouring the rest of the contents of her wine glass down her throat, she mulls over what Hook could be doing right now. She wonders if he's out, finding some poor girl, drawn in by his looks, to fuck mercilessly throughout the night. She wondered if the girl could handle the infamous Captain, after all, he wasn't gentle, at least not with her. Emma could feel herself becoming aroused at the thought of him in a sexual way. She's sure he has that effect on every woman, and maybe man, because it can't be just her that melts at the thought of him touching her. She involuntarily gasps while remembering the way his hand felt against her skin. The way his calloused fingers scratched in the right places, the way the cool metal of his hook tingled on her overheated skin. Her own hand traveling down her stomach to rest right above the button of her jeans, hovering as her thoughts continued.

She remembers how his lips, slightly cracked, brushed over her mouth, teasingly, the way his tongue would flick out to lick her bottom lip. She unbuttoned her jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly, allowing her hand to slip down the front of her underwear to her slickening pussy. Emma moaned, imagining his fingers circling her clit as she made slow, urgent circles with her hand. Hook's one hand is so talented, centuries of only have one to use will do that to a man. Her other hand trailed down her neck, imagining his mouth placing soft kisses to her skin. She began rubbing at her clit forcefully, feeling pressure build but it isn't enough. She wants more. She needs to feel more.

"Fuck this," Emma says, buttoning and zipping her pants back up clumsily. Even drunk she can't get herself off, she needs the real thing. Pulling her boots back over her shins, she grabs the half empty third bottle of wine from the counter, taking large gulps until the bottle was drained dry. Now that she was good and drunk, she can go get what she wants. After the last time, it's her turn to take control.

Stumbling out into the cool air, Emma begins her trek towards the harbor on the other side of town. It won't take too long, plus the walk would give her time to think consider how she was going to go about this. They both really enjoy fucking each other, so she sees no problem there, however, they didn't leave on best terms last time. Hook had obviously been disappointed with Emma's response, and he stalked away without a glance back. She hopes he'll enjoy her more vulnerable and uninhibited self and just jump her as soon as she steps foot on the ship. She really needs him to just fuck the shit out of her, she's in that kind of mood and she hopes he'll oblige her request. She might just have to take it from him, seeing that it is her turn to take control.

Half an hour of stumbling on the wood of the docks, Emma stands in front of the glorious Jolly Roger, swaying slightly in the calm water, at least, she hopes it's swaying in the water and it's not her drunken stupor. The alcohol gives her the confidence to step onto the ship loudly, hoping he can hear her from wherever he is. She sways once she's on the deck, trying to regain her composure before searching for her booty call. The ship is completely dark under the light of the moon. She can see why he loves being on it, especially at night. The smell of salt in the air, the same sent she can taste on him, is something to live for in and of itself. Taking deep breath, she finds the single light coming from the room below the helm, the Captain's Quarters. Emma licks her lips in anticipation, she wants his cock so badly, she wants him to make her feel spent and sated.

She knocks on the cabin door in a haphazard pattern, the wine really getting to her head after the walk to the ship. A few moments go by and she raises her hand to knock again just as it opens, causing her to stumble forward.

"Emma?" Hook questions, catching her and pushing her back to her feet in front of him. A hard and confused look on his face. He hasn't seen her since their session in the alley, mainly because it hurt too much to see her.

Emma smiles wickedly, placing her hands on his chest, feeling the thin fabric of his shirt beneath her fingers. "Hook," she says playfully, patting his chest lightly. He tries not to smile at her, but he can't help it. She's here, with him, on his ship. She came to him.

"So, why am I so lucky as to be graced with your presence?" he asks sarcastically, stepping back from her to get a better look at her condition. He can see that she isn't herself. She seems off to him, but he hasn't pinned it down. He really needs to get to know her better.

Emma squints her eyes at him and twitches her nose, "Don't be an ass," she says shortly. She reaches out to the door frame for balance before placing her other hand on her hip, looking at him matter-of-factly. It's Hook's turn to squint his eyes at her, taking in her mannerisms and language. He's got it. She's drunk, very drunk.

"Swan, how much have you had to drink?" he crosses his arms with a smirk. This could be fun, especially reminding her about coming to him in this state. Emma moves in to stand closer to him. She's close enough for him to feel her breath on his neck. He stiffens, unable to move with her this close, he doesn't trust himself around her.

"I'm not here for small-talk, Hook," she adds, a seductive roughness in her voice. She peers up at him through her thick lashes, the black clashing beautifully with the green. She steps even closer, he hair tickling at his chin, placing her hands on either side of his hips, squeezing tightly.

"What are you here for then?" he asks anxiously, uncrossing his arms and resting them behind his back, hand grabbing hook to keep them there. The movement causes his chest to push out towards her so that she is now eyelevel with the dark hair peeking out from the shirt. He keeps his vision straight, not wanting to look down onto her face, he would inevitably give in then.

Emma smiles at him, noticing him trying to keep his stare towards the deck. "I'm here for this," she says, trailing her hand from his hip to where his hardening cock is constricted in his leather pants. She grabs his length through the leather roughly, licking her lips with him in her hand. He lets out a stifled moan but swats her hand away, backing into his room, distancing himself about two feet from her. She frowns at him, but doesn't try to enter his room without permission.

"What's wrong?" Emma asks, agitated. She crosses her arms across her stomach, she can't quite figure out what's going on, but she knows he just moved away from her touching his cock. Very weird behavior from a man who loves women.

"I'm not going to be your "fucktoy" anymore, Emma!" Hook says sternly, using the word she coined him with during their first encounter. He almost regretted his words, knowing that he, at least, had Emma physically if he couldn't have her emotionally.

Emma's mouth fell open, she may be drunk, but she knows she's being turned down. Hook is turning her down for sex. "You don't want me to fuck you?" she asks, regaining her alcohol induced confidence, stepping into his room, closing the door behind her.

Hook gulped, walking backwards to stand behind his desk, to have a barrier between them. "No, Emma, I don't want to fuck."

She can't believe what she's hearing. He doesn't want to have sex with her. He's done? Done with her? Emma could feel herself sobering up from the sudden downfall of her evening. She came over to scratch an itch with the only man who could scratch it. He walked over here wanting to roll around with the sexy pirate. But she began to realize that she mostly wanted him to fuck her, to touch her, to kiss her deeply. She only wanted him. Hurt began to burn in her eyes and she can feel the tears start to pool around the rims.

Hook notices her sudden shift in mood. Maybe he'd been a little crass and blunt with her, but he's tired of being used by a woman he's fallen in love with. He wants to be with her, be gentle with her, show her how much she means to him, not just a fuck and run. "Emma," he starts, moving around the desk to stand in front of her. She flinches when he gets closer, stumbling as she tries to walk backwards to the bedroom door. "Love, come on. Have a seat," he motions towards the chair behind his desk. It was the only other place to sit besides his bed, and he didn't need a drunk Emma on his bed right now.

She starts shaking her head, but before she knows what's happening, he is leading her towards the chair by her arm. She wants to yank back from his touch, she wants to get out of there before she melts from embarrassment, but she can't force her body to follow suit. It's like he's a magnet and Emma is a large piece of iron. "Fuck you, Hook," she spits halfheartedly. She sits in the chair with a plop, face resting in her hands, elbows on the table. She is the epitome of shame sitting at his desk. He leans against the edge of the desk next to her, hands resting on the edge of the tarnished wood, squeezing from anxiety.

"Now, now, no need to be rude, love. I'm doing you a favor," Hook says, knuckles white on the desk. "I could just let you stumble back home, but that wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me."

Emma rolls her eyes obviously, placing her arms flat on the table so she can lay her head down and look up at him. "Whatever. Don't start being one now, I could've used that gentlemanliness a few minutes ago while I was still standing." Hurt spreads through her eyes again. He really upset her by denying her.

"Fucking you while you're drunk wouldn't be the right thing to do, Emma," he starts, scratching behind his ear in that cute way that makes her want to suck on the earlobe there. He crosses his arms, he is completely serious with her. There is no ulterior motive, no reason to be coy or play games with her.

"Yeah. I came here to fuck you, not have you fuck me." Emma says, unable to keep a straight face. She giggles at her own ridiculousness. She came here to get release from him because while she was touching herself, to thoughts of him, she couldn't get herself off. She is so pathetic it's funny. Hook stares at her with a confused expression, unable to guess why she is laughing from context clues.

"I don't see why those details make much of a difference," he says, adjusting his position on the desk, unknowingly giving Emma a great view of his crotch. Even through the leather should could feel the pull to him.

"You would if you knew why I really came here," she blurts without thinking. She really is too drunk to be over here with him. Instinctively she covers her mouth with her hands, eyes wide and shocked, staring up at him in horror.

Hook gives her his signature smile, "Oh really? Alright, out with it, Swan!" he demands, genuinely excited to hear what she might have to say. He hopes she has finally admitted that there are feelings between them. Emma shakes her head at him vigorously. She can't tell him why she decided to come over in the first place, he'd never let her live it down.

"It's nothing, I just drank too much, that's all," Emma said, using the alcohol as a scapegoat, hopefully he buys it.

Hook stares at her, knowing she's lying. She's not the only one who can decipher the liars from the honest. "Tell me the truth, Swan." He demands, standing up and walking behind the chair she sits in. He places his hand and hook on the back of the chair, which sits ear level on her. "Why did you come to me?" he asks in a whisper, bending down to rest his mouth by her ear.

Emma shudders, his accent and feel of his breath doing wonders to her already aroused state, the alcohol not helping. Finally, Emma decides that giving in might just give her what she needs: release. "I was thinking about you," she admits, feeling his breath hitch at her ear.

Hook stands up straight, hand and hook still on the chair. "What about me?" he asks, this might just be what he's been hoping for.

Emma tilts her head down, feeling embarrassed at the confession. "Thinking about you touching me, okay?" she says quickly, rubbing the sides of her arms. His hands leave the back of the chair. This is unexpected, but welcomed. She thinks, or thought, about them together. She fantasized about him?

Hook kneels down beside the chair, facing her. His hopeful face making her feel better about the situation already. "What were you doing?" he asks, face serious and tone deep. She can tell he's getting aroused by the direction of the conversation.

"Touching myself," she says seductively, desperately trying to get him to do anything to her. She reaches out with her right hand and cups the side of his face. He instinctively leans into her hand, loving the way her soft skin feels against the roughness of his.

"Where was I touching you?" he asks in a low, husky voice. Her thumb traces over his bottom lip and he takes the opportunity to pull it in his mouth with his teeth. She inhales sharply, so turned on by how he looks with her thumb in his mouth, so erotic. "Show me."

Grabbing his hand, she leads his fingers down the column of her throat, tracing the contours of her collar bones, down the valley of her breasts and towards her stomach. Hook never breaks his gaze with her, blue eyes burning into green. She can see the desire pooling up in those eyes as she continues to take his hand where she wants him. "And here," she whispers, placing his hand on top of her jean-clad pussy. She bites her bottom lip, giving him a pleading look, gently rocking her hips into his hand where she needs him most.

"Here?" he asks, positioning his hand so that he was cupping her through her jeans, fingers on the inseams of the crotch. He can feel how hot and wet she is through her pants, causing his own arousal to twitch under the leather prison.

"Mmhmm," she nods, eyes falling shut at his touch. Using his hook as leverage behind her head on the back of the chair, he leans forward, grinding his hand down on her softly. He presses his forehead into hers, keeping his eyes on her desperate face.

"I can make you feel good, Emma," he says softly, rubbing her slowly through her jeans. His cock twitches every time she rocks into his hand, feeling her getting wetter and hotter. "I can give you want you want," he plants a kiss on her temple, continuing his gentle circles with his hand. By now Emma is almost completely wrecked. He's providing enough motion to relieve the ache, but causing more pressure to build with his torturous pace.

"Fuck, please!" she begs quietly, reaching towards the button on her jeans to get them off as soon as possible. Hook swats her hand away with his, quickly returning it to the task at hand.

"Let me give you what you need, Emma. What we need." He whispers by her lips. Planting a soft kiss there while deftly unbuttoning her jeans. Emma moans into his mouth, anticipating his next actions. Slowly, he bends down, planting kisses on her stomach before he reaches the opening of her pants. While looking up at her, he grasps the zipper in-between his teeth and pulls it down, a low growl escaping his throat. Emma's back arches involuntarily, each notch in the zipper feeling like a strong vibration, his breath hot through her jeans. She reaches to pull her pants down, but he blocks her hands again. "No, Emma. If you want this, it's going to be my way," he says, placing his hand on her hip. "Let me show you what I can do for you."

Emma doesn't have the ability to protest, she needs something now. She nods vigorously, biting her bottom lip, reaching for his hand at her hip. "Yes, please." Hook gives a slight nod before kissing her right below her navel. With hand and hook on either side of her jeans, he pulls down slowly, peeling the fabric away from her skin. She helps by kicking them off when the material reaches her ankles, hurrying to rid herself of any barrier between them.

"I'm going to take my time with you," Hook says, kissing the inside of each thigh before placing each leg over his shoulders. "Show you what you mean to me," he adds, planting a kiss on her center, through her underwear. Emma inhales sharply, shuddering under the gentle touch. She is overly aroused, feeling as if she could come undone in a matter of seconds. He gives her long, slow licks through the thin fabric of the lace, the pressure causing Emma to grab a handful of his hair in one hand and use the other to grab the back of the chair behind her head for support.

"Fuck," she hisses, using her grip in his hair to guide him to where she needs him. He gives a low growl in return for her urgency, his eyes on her is enough to make her cum. He continues licking while he pulls the sides of her underwear down, easing her legs off of his shoulders to briefly rid her of them. Knees back over shoulders, he tastes her completely, without a barrier. He moans into her, thrilled by her taste and softness of the delicate skin.

"I could live off of this," Hook mumbles, mouth hovering over her bare pussy. Bringing his hand around her leg, he starts rubbing circles into her clit, tonguing her entrance. Emma writhes in the hard chair, looking for purchase from the unbelievable pressure building inside of her.

"Killian, I'm so close," she pants, not realizing what she just called him. The slight confusion in her head from the alcohol and the complete assault by his mouth makes it impossible to speak coherently or rationally. The feelings she had for him (that she didn't want to admit) combined with the overwhelming pleasure forces her to cry out what she wants.

He stops pleasuring her with his mouth and hand, hovering over her heat, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "You just called me Killian," he starts, nervousness in his voice. "Why?"

Emma glares at him, annoyed. She is so close and he just stops to ask why she called him by name. What the fuck. "Please make me cum, I'm so close!"

Hook leans forward, grabbing her chin in his hand, keeping her eyes on his. "No, Emma," he whispers thickly. His accent emphasized by pleasure and the low octave of his voice. "Tell me why you called me 'Killian'." He is dangerously close to her mouth, she lunges forward to kiss him, but his back away from her kiss, adamant about getting an answer.

"Because I need you," Emma whines, rocking her hips, hoping he would notice her needing movements. She can see he's confused. All this time she had called for 'Hook' when she needed him. Saying his name meant something else, a meaning she was going to have to admit. "Because I need Killian right now, and not Captain Hook," she finishes softly, her eyes glassing over and her body aching from lack of release. She reaches for his face, feeling the scruff under her skin, feeling his jaw tense and relax under her touch.

"I'll give you what you need, love," he says, breath whispering on her lips. He leans in and places a chaste kiss on her lips and moaning before curling his tongue in her warm mouth. His hand comes back down to her clit, gathering her wetness before beginning the languid circles that cause her to shudder. He releases her mouth, grasping at the fabric of her shirt, motioning for her to take it off. She does so willingly, allowing Hook to admire her swelling breasts in the thin lace of her bra. He absolutely loved the undergarments for women in this time, loving how little there was under their clothes. Emma reaches behind her to unclasp her bra, knowing he'd never seen one before and most likely couldn't undo the hooks. Oh the irony. Once her chest was bare to him, he inhaled sharply, mouth falling open, jaw going slack. Emma felt her cheeks blush under his stare on her naked form. She isn't can't remember if he's seen her completely naked or not. Their two previous meetings were random and rushed.

He took in every inch of her pale skin. He noticed the goosebumps rising all over her from the coolness of the air. He could see her nipples were hardening as her chest heaved with her heavy breathing. The flush in her skin made her even more beautiful. She looked healthy and alive in front of him. He gives her a small smile, making sure she feels comfortable this exposed to him. His slow strokes on her clit cause her to body to shake slightly, her breasts bounce with every shudder.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Emma" he whispers, bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth, admittedly one of his favorite things to do to a woman. She keens under the sensations at her clit and nipple, the two combining into vibrations inside her. He slipped his fingers through her folds to gather more lubrication and returned them to her clit, increasing the pressure and speed of his circles. Emma arches her back, pressing herself onto his touch. Hook attacks the other nipple, sucking a little harder and nibbling on the sensitive skin. The feedback from Emma all but makes him cum in his pants, erection straining against leather. Emma rocks furiously into his hand, grasping onto his shoulders, leaving crescents where her nails dug into his skin. He growls at her movements, completely possessed by her relentless shaking and moaning. He can watch her lose herself like this every second of his life.

"Feels so good," she pants, pressing his head down onto her chest, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. The want and need they both feel is overpowering, skin overheats and becomes flush, breathing become erratic, and their minds race (Emma's a mixture of arousal and alcohol).

Hook frees her nipple with a pop before standing up and pulling his shirt over his head with his hand. "More, more, more," he says to himself eagerly. He kicks his boots off and feverishly begins to unlace his pants. Emma has seen him naked once before, but this was completely different. She watches him lustfully through his tasks, licking her lips at the sight of him. His muscles ripple as he pulls his shirt off, scars, slightly shiny, almost glow in the dim light. His leather pants sit low, just below his hips bones, allowing the trail of dark hair to disappear under the line. His tan skin nearly golden in candlelight, chest dusted with dark hair. He is the most god-like creature she had ever seen. She notices his brace on his left arm for the first time. The black leather completely covers his forearm up to the elbow, breaking into straps that go across his bicep and around his shoulder. If anything, the brace adds to his sexiness, the straps accentuate his devilishly handsome persona.

"Fuck," Emma whispers, watching him kick his pants off from around his ankles, without his eyes leaving hers. He quickly grabs her by the arm, pulling her from the chair and hoisting her up so her are bent at his hips. He sits down in his chair, adjusting them so she can straddle his lap comfortably, kissing her neck throughout the process. Emma places her hands behind his neck, pulling his mouth to hers harder. He rests his hook at the small of her back while his hand reaches down between them to her clit again. She gasps suddenly, throwing her head back at his surprise touch. "Oh, Fuck!"

"This is what I've wanted, Emma," he starts, placing wet kisses down her throat. "I've wanted to make you feel this good since the moment we met," he continues, making his way back up to her ear, nipping her earlobe quickly. "I've wanted us to feel this connected." He quickens his fingers on her clit, feeling her legs tremble against his sides. She begins to grind down on him, feeling his hard cock against her ass while doing so. He moans in appreciation, hooded eyes never leaving her body. He watches her bite her bottom lip, pulling her head back so she can see him. She lunges down for a kiss before pressing her forehead on his, unable to do anything except ride his hand.

"Oh my god," she whispers, placing a hand on the side of his face, fingers scratching into his scalp. He groans at the wetness building between her thighs, feeling how close she is to completely losing herself to him. His cock rubs blissfully against her ass, becoming coated in her arousal as well. Her whole body begins to tremble as she feels herself begin to burst. "Fuck, Killian!" she screams, her grip on his neck is stronger and she shoves her hand into his hair for something to grip.

"Yes, Emma," he encourages her, shoving two fingers inside of her, continuing his assault on her clit with the palm of his hand. She explodes around his fingers, the dual stimulation of her clit and g-spot almost too much to handle. She rides his fingers furiously, pressing her head painfully into his, seeing his stormy eyes dilate while watching her fall apart. His cock grows painfully hard as the blonde writhes in his lap and her pussy contracts around his fingers, wanting nothing more than to be inside of her. He kisses her passionately, diving his tongue into her mouth, tasting every part of her. Without warning, he loops her legs over his forearms, standing up with her and brings her over to his bed. He throws her down, taking the time to study her orgasm-flushed skin, glowing with a slight sheen of sweat. She is the most stunning thing he has ever seen like this, perfect and writhing for him.

"Killian, please," she begs, reaching out for him to join her on the bed. He willingly obliges, crawling on top of her slowly. The intimate position is new for the both of them, but it is something they need from each other.

"I've wanted to show you how much you mean to me," Hook starts, nudging her legs apart so he can rest between them. "I want you to feel what you do to me, feel what I can give you." He reaches down and hitches her thigh over his hip, she copies the movement with her other leg, crossing her ankles on the base of his spine. He leans down on his braced forearm, allowing his hand to roam her body. He looks sadly at his brace, knowing he only has one hand to touch her, to hold her. Noticing his disappointment, Emma leans to give the metal by her head a quick kiss, turning back to smile sweetly at him. "I wish I could use both hands…"

"I love it," she says, grasping at the straps on his bicep

. "It's sexy. Besides, you're better than anyone with that one hand." She was still a little tipsy and the truth seemed to slip out easier than it should. She didn't care though, her reassurance makes him smile at her.

"Is that so, Swan?" He asks deeply, grasping her hip tightly, pulling it up to meet his. The brush of his cock against her heat sends chills down their bodies, both groan from the sensation. He repeats the action, thrusting much deeper against her. He isn't even inside of her yet, but Emma can feel the coiling of her next orgasm building between her thighs.

"Please, Killian," Emma moans, lacing her arms through his so she can scratch her blunt nails down his lean back. "I need you inside me." Hook growls as her nails scratch at the flesh, causing him to thrust hard on her.

He puts his weight on his hooked arm before reaching between them to guide himself towards her entrance. Looking at her, holding his breath, he waits. They stare into each other's eyes for seconds before Emma leans up and kisses his lips, giving him the go-ahead. Burying his face in the crook of her neck, he pushes himself inside her, completely sheathing himself.

"Bloody hell," he pant, eagerly pulling back out completely before thrusting back into her heat. "So fucking tight." Emma gasps at the drag of his cock slipping inside her. Even though they've fucked before, the intensity and passion brought to this time makes the experience feel brand new. She's never felt him burn so hotly, or herself burn like this before. The connection between them cannot be ignored anymore, not after this. Bringing his hand up to cup her face, he pulls her mouth to his, moaning as their lips collide. His pace increases slightly, his hips rolling into hers in a languid and deep motion, savoring every inch that glides into her wet heat.

The pressure continues to build inside of her, every strong stroke of his thick cock brushing that sensitive spot inside of her causes her body to respond in ways it never has before. She laces her fingers through his hair, lifting his mouth from hers to stare into his eyes, soaking in the desire and pleasure she finds in them. "Oh, fuck, Killian," she whines, licking her lips, eyes fluttering to stay open. A low, guttural growl escapes from his parted lips, thrusting even deeper inside of her, hitting bottom. Emma gasps as she feels him hit the end of her walls, "So deep."

"Yes," he whispers, pressing his head onto her shoulder, back heaving at the end of each push. Emma releases his hair and rubs her hands along his back, feeling the scars and muscles ripple under his soft fingers. He slides his hand down from her cheek, brushing over her neck, playing over her breast, and squeezing at her hip before grabbing at the flesh below her ass, pulling her in closer. "I want every inch of you."

"You have it," she moans, in the moment so deeply she cannot deny him anything. She wants him to own her, to take what he wants, she doesn't want this feeling to stop. "You have all of me, Killian." She squeezes her walls around his cock, causing him to shudder.

"Bloody hell," he pants, giving her a quick kiss on the side of her neck. "You've had me since the day we met," he confessed, never faltering in his assault. Emma knew it to be true, because he would have had her earlier if her emotional walls hadn't of been made of steel.

"I'm so close," Emma groans, rolling her hips under him, causing him to moan, as well. Leaving one hand on his back, she drags the other down his side, eliciting a growl from his chest, and rests on his thigh, gripping slightly. The noises he makes drive her completely insane, completely primal, entirely man.

"Yes, lose yourself for me, Emma," he says, bringing his arm under her back to hook his hand around her shoulder for leverage. His hold on her causes his thrusts to feel harder and deeper, Emma's head tilting back in response. "Fuck," he moans, loving the way she's coming undone under him. "You're so bloody beautiful." He feels himself getting close to his own release, the familiar pressure low in his groin, the contracting muscles in his abdomen.

"Oh, fuck, Killian, I'm cumming!" she groans loudly, emphasizing the "f", as she reaches climax and falls completely over the edge for him. Her nails dig into his skin, her teeth bite at his straining left shoulder, and her walls contract tightly around his cock. Fast and quick waves wash over her, she's dizzy from not being able to breathe, and Hook is pounding steadily inside of her, chasing his own orgasm along with hers.

"That's it, love," he breathes as he watches her cum on his painfully hard cock. She looks absolutely divine while she cums, so free of worry or anything else. She's just in the moment while being impaled by him.

Emma comes down from the high slightly, still feeling the reverberating quivers she hopes to be feeling for a while. "Please, Killian," she pants, trying to regain her composure. "Cum for me." He all but explodes at her request, burying his head in the space between her neck and shoulder and quickens his pace. Taking his hand out from under her back, he slides it down her waist to sit on top of her hip, pressing her body down into the mattress.

"Gods, you feel so good," he moans, biting at her pulse, just hard enough to leave a mark on her. A mark she won't be able to deny in the morning. He's too close to release, too close to exploding inside of her tightness, too much emotion and physical pleasure for one man to contain. Placing his mouth over her throat to cover her in wet kisses, he cums with a force he's never felt. "Bloody hell," he groans, still pumping inside of her, slowing down as he finishes inside of her. Once completely spent, he doesn't move, he stills himself on top of her, kissing her neck as he waits for his mind to return to reality. Realizing his weight is probably crushing her, he slides off and rests on his back next to her. She can feel his warm release pooling between her legs, but decides to ignore it, turning on her side to face the pirate, playing with the straps of his brace.

"That was new," Emma admits, looking up at him through thick lashes, biting at her lip nervously.

"Aye, for me as well," he says, bringing his hand over to brush a lock of hair out of her face. The action makes her smile, he can act like a malicious pirate all he wants, but deep down, he's caring.

"What changed, though?" she asks, moving her hand up from his brace to trace circles on his chest. "What made us go from what happened at the hospital and in the alley, to this?"

He runs his fingers up and down her arm on his chest, "I didn't want it to just be about sex with you. I wanted more. I want more." He turns his head to face her, looking deeply into her eyes. "When you came here tonight, asking for a fuck, I decided to admit my feelings for you."

"With more sex?" Emma asks, stilling her hand on his chest.

"This was just sex," he states, hurt evident in his voice. He turns his head to look at the ceiling of his quarters.

"No, Killian, it wasn't just sex," she adds, turning his head to face her again, palm flat on his cheek. "It was so much more than that." She kisses him tenderly on the lips, passion evident on both sides. He parts her lips with his tongue, demanding entry, as he rolls onto his side to face her.

"Don't you feel it, love?" he asks, breaking the kiss with a pant. His blue eyes stare longingly into her green ones. She can see the hope in the blue pools and isn't sure how to articulate what needs to be said.

"I feel something," she starts, dragging her thumb along his bottom lip. "I just don't want to move to fast and fuck things up." He can see the worry in her eyes. He knows she's been hurt before, and he doesn't mind moving slow with her. He just wants her, he wants more than just her body, he wants her soul. "Can we do that?"

"I care deeply for you, Emma," he begins, grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles. "I just want you, I'm not going anywhere." He can see the tears well in her eyes, but she blinks them away. His strong Swan. "But we can still have fun, right?" he asks, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He winks at her before smirking. That fucking cocky smirk that makes her knees give out.

"Of course, this is way too damn good to hold off on," she replies with a grin, snuggling in close to him, feeling his warm radiate over her cooling skin. He wraps his arms around her, carefully maneuvering his hooked arm under her head.

"Thank you," he whispers, kissing her forehead before resting his check on the top of her head, inhaling deeply with satisfaction. She knows he's not thanking her for the sex, but thanking her for opening up. She always knew there was something, but she was never comfortable coming clean about it. She was willing to fuck him until they couldn't do it anymore, but this, this is nice. His warm body surrounding her own, legs tangled together happily. This is definitely not how she expected the night to go, but it has been better than she hoped. Hook continues his close hold as he feels her fall asleep. He knows that her drinking hadn't caused this to happen, it was an inevitable even that needed to happen before someone was hurt.

He has his beautiful swan in his bed, and all is well. There is nothing that would make him unhappy at this moment, as long as she was there. The weeks of torment he endured, the feelings of being used and left, of him doing the same to her, all led up to this moment. He made her see what she meant to someone, let her see he was sincere in the only way he knew how. While fucking Emma Swan was great, making love to her felt perfect. Who knew getting hit by a car would be the best thing to ever happen to him.

AN: So what did you think?! I hope this concluded to everyone's liking. Let me know if I need to write an Epilogue for this story or not. I don't think there will be a Part 4, but an epilogue isn't out of the question. Well, I'm off to do school work or start another story... hmm? haha. Thank you again! Reviews and Prompts welcome! - Bailey