Because Colin did the ice bucket challenge…and we all noticed some things :)

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Something in the Water

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She's trying to file away the monstrous stack of paperwork on her desk when Killian slams the door of the station behind him. Emma turns around at the sound, eyes widening as she takes in the pirate's extremely wet form, "What the hell happened to you?"

They're at that sweet stage between stolen kisses and dating and it's not unusual for him to show up at her work sometimes to keep her company, but today feels like it has purpose – like he's here because maybe she's the only one who would bother to ask what had happened. Like he wants someone to care about him without actually saying the words.

He's already shrugging out of his new leather jacket, leaving a puddle of water on the ground beside him as he throws it over the back of a chair. The way his muscles cling to his shirt doesn't escape Emma's keen eye and she suddenly forgets every reason she had for insisting that they take things slow.

"Apparently this is what happens when young Elsa causes a blizzard and then reigns in her emotions and lets the sun come out."

He sounds extremely frustrated and Emma knows she should find some sympathy for him, but all she can seem to find within her is gratitude for Elsa's snow wielding ways. She can't take her eyes off his soaked body, unashamed with simply just staring at him.

"What're you…?" he begins as Emma's hand reaches out for his torso. But her fingers on his drenched clothing sends jolts through him and he's abruptly cut off and unaware of what train of thought he was even on.

She looks up at him and lets her hands slide around his waist, pulling herself up to within inches of her pirate. "Put that new hand of yours to work, will you?" she asks, casting a glance over her shoulder at her desk.

Catching her drift immediately, he leans into her, reaching behind her to sweep the remaining paperwork to the ground. She grins, pulling him back as she lays down on the flat surface and she doesn't need to say a work for him to know exactly where this is going. Her legs wrap around his waist and she rolls her hips into his growing hardness while he reaches for the hem of his shirt.

She bites her lip against a moan as he hits a particularly sweet spot with a rotation of his hips and she can't help but move a little more rigorously, chasing more, always more, with him.

His shirt comes off with a thick sound, thrown somewhere behind him and she lets her eyes roam his body. She'd always suspected that he'd be muscular from his centuries as a sea captain, but her imagination pales in comparison to the lottery she has drawn with this guy. Long lines move with each gentle roll and she's finding her clothing all suddenly far too restrictive.

Moving her feet higher on his back, she pulls him over her and leans up into his waiting kiss. And there is an immediate shift in the priorities of the room.

His hand finds its way between them as their lips press together in hard and bruising promises of pleasure and happiness. She bucks her hips up into his hand, seeking any kind of release, but he's trying to draw everything out. And any other day, she would be more than okay with the slow burn, but right now, seeing him drenched has left her feeling somewhat…well, wet too.

With a flick of her wrist and a wisp of white magic, she rids them of all remaining clothing and nearly cries out as his fingers that were pressing against her from one side of her jeans are suddenly inside her.

"Fuck," he hisses, pushing further into her, curling his fingers and revelling in the way her body clutches onto him.

She smiles, pulling him down to her again, "Excellent idea."

He has to chuckle at that, kissing his way down her neck and across her chest, stopping to capture each breast in his mouth. She can see where his final destination is and can't decide whether she wants him to slow down or speed up. But when his lips close around her clit and his tongue begins its own brand of magic on her body, she finds that she simply doesn't care anymore.

His other hand reaches up to grasp at a breast while he continues to lap at her sensitive skin. "God," she moans, her hips rolling upwards. She can feel his smile and the vibrations of his laugh and it really has been too long since she's been with anyone. It doesn't take many more flicks of his talented tongue before she is crashing over the edge, her back arching completely off the desk as he laps at her.

She's barely recovered, stars still clearing from behind her eyes and her back just barely touching back down on the desk, when she feels his hard length at her entrance, pushing forward just enough that the tip of him is buried in her still contracting tightness. She looks up at him, nodding slightly with a murmured, "Mmhmm," as she slides her body forward on the desk and takes him into her.

The groaned breath of utter pleasure is indistinguishable between them and they both take a moment to marvel in the perfect fit of their bodies before Killian places his hands on Emma's hips and moves gently inside of her.

And it's then that Emma understands the meaning of the word insatiable.

Because she can't think of a time when she would possibly ever not want this. Not want him.

"More," she urges, her shoulder blades digging into the wooden desk as she makes an effort to pull herself up. He reads her mind though, reaching behind her back and lifting her easily as his pace quickens.

She tightens her legs around his back as he leans her up against the glass wall of her office, pushing into her relentlessly, spurred on by her moans and whimpers. He nips at her neck, hand on her breast, while her own hands have curled into his damp hair, guiding his lips.

"Bloody fucking hell, love," he's close and he can feel her tensing as well, tightening around his arousal.

"Come with me," she requests and he knows he'd never be able to do wrong by her so when he feels her plummet back over her blissful edge, he follows a second later, spilling into her with a strangled groan.

As the aftershocks rock through them and Emma's feet touch back down to the ground, she has to grin.

"What?" he asks, not able to keep his hands off her and still rubbing circles all across her highly sensitised skin and watching the fluttery reactions.

She leans into his neck, tracing a droplet of water from his hair down to his shoulder with her tongue. Meeting his eye again, she licks her lips, "I'm just thinking about how long we could get away with taking showers," she rolls her hips and he curses the effect she has on him, "Because you are never being not wet again."

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