Welcome Back Jolly Roger Chapter 3

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This is a work of fanfiction solely.

Emma wants to be closer to Hook. She is pushing herself into him, breasts to waist, wrapping her legs around him tightly as they sit on the barrel. Her hands move on his face and neck. She loves his face, she thinks it is beautiful and she is always drawn to touch him. His cheek, his chin, his lips, the line of his jaw. His lips are warm and open and she wants more. His tongue is moving with hers and the feeling is electrifying. She is lifting herself up against him and everything is warm and wonderful. She moves her hands from his face to grip her arms around his back. It brings her closer and gives her leverage to lift up and tighten her body against his. She has no idea what he is thinking but he is moving with her and she can feel him already hard against her. They have done this much before inside his room at Granny's or even a few quick times at the Sheriff's station when David is out.

She wants more. She is completely in the moment, she knows exactly what she is doing and where this can lead. It's not the rum or the anger at mom and dad motivating her. She wants to be with Killian.

But Hook is pulling away, lifting her legs so she is straddling sideways across his lap. "Emma" he starts to say. "Hook, what?" She misses him. He moved her and he moved his beautiful face away from her.

"Darling, you must know how I feel about you and how much I want you. We have all night, or more if you wish or time to wait if you wish to wait. At this late hour you might be unaware but we are still visible from the docks."

She grins with an "Oops". He frowns, "Are you feeling too much of the rum? Let me get some water, I do have fresh water below. I .."

"Stop talking." Again she is hot and bothered and kissing him and rubbing against him. She feels so good and she wants to feel good and she wants more. He does too. Doesn't he? Don't they both know why she's there? Suddenly she is unsure. A lifetime of holding herself back from affection. She knows she is the obstacle. If his heart has heartache, it is on her.

"Wait, Killian. Maybe you're right. Come show me your ship. I've been on it before but give me a tour." She stands and wraps the red blanket carelessly around herself. Her legs are stiff and there is wetness between her thighs. Hook gives her his stunning smirk as he reaches into his pants and adjusts. Neither are embarrassed by his excitement, they have been building to this intimacy and she is appreciative to see how she affects him.

"A tour it is Swan. I am pleased to show you all the quarters on the ship though I know you are only interested in the Captain's quarters."

She aims a punch at him as they put the Styrofoam containers in the plastic bags and stow the bags by the ladder to the dock.

They walk towards the bow of the ship. Hook points out gear that needs repair and complains, "No one cares for the Jolly like meself Swan. This is not its finest moment but you will soon see the deck shining and the brass polished properly. Let us look at the holds." Emma is relaxed and they hold hands until they get to the bow. They stand at the most narrow point of the deck and look to the dark sky where it becomes the water.

"This is lovely, Killian. I'm really happy to be able to enjoy this with you."

"My pleasure Swan." She is immediately ready for him all over again. His pleasure could be her pleasure too. What are they doing walking around this ship?

They climb down the ladder at the center of the bow to the deck below. The ladder ends in an open area for what looks like storage. There are barrels and trunks securely fastened shut and fastened to the side wall of the ship. Coils of rope of assorted thickness hang on pegs high on the walls.

"Water barrels, empty now and material for the sails. Valuable supplies on a sailing ship." They walk through this area until they come to a door with a porthole window further down the hall. This door slides open easily into a pocket to reveal a large open space with wooden tables and benches. The bench seats are built into the wall of the ship and the tables are fastened to the floor near the benches. There is a long, high wooden counter that looks as though it would be a food preparation area and a serving area. There are trenches of very specific shape carved into the thick wood of the countertop to hold platters and pots from sliding. The counter itself is framed in wood like the sides of a box. Behind the counter are three brick fireplaces of different sizes. The largest has metal hooks suspended from the top interior of the brick. The next largest has one large metal stand rising from the bottom of the brick. Emma surmises the largest fireplace and its equipment is for pots while the other might be to roast meat on a skewer.

They leave the kitchen, "It's called a galley, Swan." and cross the hall to an identical wooden door that slides open into the wall. This side of the ship contains platforms for beds. The platforms are about the size of single beds but there are no mattresses. "Aye, no bedding. I discarded what little was here." Hook is quick to point this out to Emma. "These are the senior crew quarters, close to the kitchen, close to the bow. Senior crew can stow belongings below their sleeping place." Each raised platform is built upon wood strongboxes that are fitted with locks and racks. Emma thinks of towel racks and socks salty from sea and sweat.

As much as Emma is enjoying this and pleased to be welcomed into Hook's home she is beginning to tire. The anger and aggression has worn off and she is dragging a little, but not so much that she can ignore the prickling in her veins and the deep desire for her captain.

The end of the hall is near. There is a heavy wooden door, carved and embellished and partially open at the stern of the vessel. Hook opens it the rest of the way. "Welcome to the captain's quarters my love." Emma can see the amenities a captain would require in this room, which is a good size. "Does this take up the whole end of the boat Killian?"

She looks around more thoroughly. There are windows installed in the bulkhead directly across from them. She imagines that during the day those windows would let the sun shine in splendidly. Now she can see the glow of the moon reflecting off the water. In addition to the bed built into one wall of the room there is a desk and chair, shelves filled with books and two large wardrobes. A door between the wardrobes leads to a private toilet and bathroom.

"Yes, the captain's quarters are the height of luxury on a ship. It is unfortunate you never really spent any time here when we voyaged to Neverland."

"I thought you were a selfish person at the time. And confused. Seeking vengeance for centuries but helpful to us. Helpful to me."

"Not confused at all lass. Changing and growing to be a better man. Even then I was captivated by your spirit and your strength. I would have been available to any help you desired." And there he is, flirty Hook is back. He knows to balance his expressions of admiration with wit and charm. He knows her so well that she would be overwhelmed by too much direct devotion.

"What would my parents have thought of me disappearing into the captain's quarters? David would have taken a sword to you and you know it."

"And why are we standing here at the door talking about your parents? It's late. We are here for other, more pleasurable activities, are we not, my love?" He embraces her and bends his head. The kiss begins sweetly, gently, but it is not long before it is filled with passion and she is gripping him tightly. She wants his body pressed against hers again so that she can feel his muscled chest and his hard thighs and hardness between. She slips her hands into his shirt for a touch that is not tender but urgent and stroking across the planes of his chest.

The flames in the lanterns on the walls and on the desk leap and lengthen. He raises his head. "Emma, what is that your magic is telling us? Are you certain of this?"

"I am completely certain Killian. I want to be with you. Let's fool around."

"I am no fool." He picks her up bridal style with the love shining out of his eyes and carries her to the bed. He kneels at her feet. "Boots, if you please." After helping her with her boots he sits beside her on the bed and takes off his boots.

She is sitting on the side with his hook. She turns to him and says, "May I? I have never seen you without your hook." His eyes are anxious but he nods yes. The hook is held to the stump of his arm with a leather brace that comes around his shoulder. Once the whole device is off and on the ground at their feet she takes his arm to massage the end. The skin is terribly scarred as though it had been stitched by inexpert hands. Which it probably was, she realizes. He moves his whole hand to her face as she kisses the ruined arm. "Emma, it's not for you to see."

She wants to alleviate his anxiety and changes course, straddling him to kiss him and unbutton his vest and then his shirt. "Layers and layers, too many Killian!"

"Yourself too, my Emma." She lifts her arms so that he can pull her sweater over her head. The tank top underneath is not the nicest, which is why it goes under sweaters but his look of desire ensures she forgets the garment quickly. They kiss again and the heat between them is more and more insistent. She feels her very flesh and blood clamoring for more, for Killian, to be with him. He is kissing her everywhere he can reach and she is kissing his face, his neck, his beautiful jaw. He put his arms under her behind and stands bringing her with him. "This blasted fabric of this world. Emma, before we are one, please tell me this is what you want. I will wait, you know that I will, I will wait until it is right."

"Killian, I am more sure of this now than anything. We have waited. We are together. Now let's be together."

They help each other out of the confines of denim, that most cursed fabric according to Hook. They are comfortable and at ease with one another. His reverence for her body is evident in his whispered words, "You are so beautiful Emma. You are the most beautiful in all the realms." She can only reply, "Killian."

There is no ceremony, no inhibitions, and no pressure. She has never felt so adored. Neither has she ever felt such longing, such hunger, and such need. Soon they are both naked lying in each other's arms on his bed, moving and pressing. They relinquish any final thoughts and feel only skin upon skin, hard upon soft, the grip of a hand, a nip, a lick, a suck. Until she beseeches him, "Killian! Please! Now!"

The lights rise in a burst of white and then all is at rest.

Author's Note: T rated. This is how I wanted to write their story at this point. And there are so many excellent M rated stories from talented authors. Thank you for understanding.