A little something for New York. This kept snowballing. It was meant to be a hug drabble and now it's something else :)
Thank you for reading!
Cat and Mouse
The thing that scares her about him the most is that whenever she looks at him and he looks back, those blue eyes piercing right into the soul of her, she knows, she can see that he is being nothing but honest with her. From the start, he's always told her the truth, well when it matters he has. And now, it comes as second nature to just look to him for advice, for knowledge, for comfort, because he will always be truthful.
It's like a revelation every time it happens, every time her gaze flicks to his and he's already watching her, because she's not used to this. It's something completely out of the ordinary for her, it's frightening and nauseating and it makes her heart skip a beat every single damn time.
So yes, once she's in his arms, she's afraid to break away, because she knows that what she will see will undo her. He will break through any and every wall she has and she doesn't know how to deal with that, she doesn't know what happens next. She pulls herself closer to him when he starts to pull away, keeping her head rested against his chest, relishing in the sweet way his lips barely ghost over her hair, as though he wants to kiss her, but doesn't quite know if he's allowed.
"Love, as much as this is nice, we do have to sleep," his voice is soft, barely breaking through the sounds of the city outside of the hotel's parking lot. She hadn't meant to drag him into her messes, she could have done this alone, come to New York and fixed the problem herself.
But they both know he never would have left her side. Even if given the chance.
So she can't look at him, she can't trust him, she can't open herself to that hurt…
And yet, she does.
Her head tilts up and he grasps at her jaw with his hand, holding her steady. Always holding her steady. And then her eyes flick to his lips. Just once, just for a moment. But he sees.
"Emma," he whispers. She lets her eyes fall closed at the sound of his voice, soothing and comforting and so, so caring.
"Yes," she answers, her head tilting into his hold, her lips parting in a gasp as his hook comes to rest on the skin of her hip, just under the hem of her shirt.
"We really need to sleep," his voice is closer, his breath touches her lips and she remembers flashes of Neverland, flashes of a kiss and all the things that never were.
"What if we weren't to sleep?" her eyes open as she feels some control come back to her, "What happens then?" He doesn't know the answer. But she trusts that he will give her one. It's not a test, it's just her curiosity getting the better of her. What will he say if she gives him the chance to take her, to have her? She moves closer to him, "We would still get up tomorrow morning, we would still be working towards breaking this curse, we would do everything the same. So why don't we get to have a few hours?"
His hand curls further behind her neck, his fingers gripping her golden hair, "Why now, Emma? Why not a week ago, or tomorrow? I don't…"
But she cuts him off with a chaste kiss, her lips barely touching his, silencing him, taking the words right from him, taking the doubt right from him.
She knows he is a good man, knows he would do anything to prove himself to her, including putting his own needs on hold until a more opportune moment. But that's exactly why she wants this now, that's exactly why she finally meets his gaze and takes the dive for him. Because he is completely unselfish and she wants to be selfish if only for the night.
"Because today I want you."
The words take the breath from both of them in their purity, in their honesty, and his hand pulls her forward, his nose bumping hers once, twice before he tilts his head and claims her lips.
She can't remember ever feeling like this before. This free. They've allowed themselves one night and she wants every moment of it already. His hand massages the back of her neck while his hook takes a less innocent path further up under her shirt, brushing her ribs, the cool metal soon finding her bra and ripping it without thought. He quickly replaces the curved steel with his hand, cupping her under her shirt while the hook slides easily down and through a belt loop, pulling her hips flush against his.
She wants more.
He wants more.
"Hotel room," she mutters against his lips and he nods, sliding his kisses down to her throat and sucking gently on the smooth skin he finds there.
"Lead the way."
It takes all the will power she has to pull herself away from him and turn around, his hand is still on her hip as she walks and the material of her sweater brushing against her bare breasts, making the hallway to their hotel room seem a lot longer than when they had checked in that afternoon.
With shaky hands she unlocks the door and he has her up against the other side of it in seconds, the key dropping to the ground with her handbag as they pick up right where they left off.
"Hook," she moans, his teeth nibbling at her earlobe, his hand pushing her coat off her shoulders.
"Not my name, love."
She twists his namesake piece of metal out of its brace and drops that to the ground too, "Well maybe you should prove it."
He swallows, their voices in the room giving them a moment to breathe and a moment to break apart. She's panting, her hand rubbing at the brace on his arm, her eyes avoiding his. It would be too much to see, too much to know that he is looking right back at her, so she looks straights ahead, her eyes locking onto his jaw, the way it twitches as he clenches, biting his tongue, willing himself not to say anything, not to break their spell.
She wishes she was better than this, better than putting fears in his head.
"I'm not going to run."
He nods and she reaches up, pushing his coat from his shoulders. She takes a step into him, as he steps away, pulling her along, over the pile of items on the ground. Her coat falls from her arms next, his vest, her sweater.
He stops breathing, his mouth watering. And they step again and again until his legs nudge at one of the beds in the room.
There's a difference between thinking you know something and knowing you know it. And the fact that she's acknowledging her tendency to run, the fact that she's saying she won't…it sends jolts of pleasure running through him all at once.
He unties his pants, stepping out of them and his boots in a fluid movement. And then he's before her, wearing a shirt that's hardly buttoned and nothing else. It's her turn.
But before she can finish undoing the zipper on her pants, he takes her by the hips, turning her around and gently helping her fall to the mattress with a soft bounce. She looks ready for him, eyes burning into his features, as though she never wants to forget this moment.
Her legs hang over the end of the bed and he settles himself between them, fingers finishing what she had started and pulling the zipper the rest of the way down, his hand running on past that and over the bump of the seam of her jeans, applying just enough pressure to make her squirm.
"Pirate," he hears her mutter from somewhere above him.
"Aye," he chuckles, before biting down softly over her core.
It's pure pleasure, the sound falling from her lips and he bites a little harder to see if he can get her to make it again. "Oh god," she growls out, while tugging at his hair and he pulls back smiling.
It doesn't take much insistence from him for her to raise her hips and let him drag her pants and underwear down her legs and then he is right back there again, his tongue tasting her this time, his lips teasing her. His braced arm settles on her hips, holding her down while his mouth does evil and delightful things to her.
And just when she wants to wrench his arm away so she can roll her hips upwards the way her instincts are telling her, she feels a finger enter her and instead bites down on her lip to contain a scream as he hits that spot and she comes around him. Before she can come down though he's climbing up the bed and over her, his fingers moving to rub against her clit as he watches the way her eyes change shades in her different stages of desire.
She blinks and when her eyes open again, they're stormy and filled with something more than want. It's a need, he realises. She needs him.
And he's not sure he was prepared for that.
Desperately wanting it, yes. But never in his wildest dreams expecting it.
"Fuck," he whispers.
And she nods, "Yeah. You're not the only one with secrets."
It's all fun and games until the gut wrenching realisation settles over the both of them. Because up until this point it was somewhat one sided, up until now, it's been a game of cat and mouse. But now, oh now, it's real. It's them. And it's together.
She cries out in elation when he enters her, when their bodies come together and their hands link fingers on the pillows by her head. His pendants on the chain around his neck dangle in front of her and she grabs hold of them with her other hand, drawing him down to meet her hungry kisses as he starts to move, pulling out and pushing back into her welcoming heat.
And this, this is what she has been missing her whole life. This feeling of completeness, of safety, of home. It's all there in his touch, in his movements, in the way his breaths come out in disbelieving puffs, as though he is truly surprised by her actions. It just feels right.
There's no 'one-time thing' about this, there's no 'only for tonight'. This is permanent, this is real.
And the words spill from her lips before she can catch them, carried by the truth of the feeling in her heart, "I love you."
His fingers squeeze tighter around hers and his eyes bore into her, searching. He finds something comforting instead of frightening though, he finds honesty to her very soul, the same honesty she has found in him again and again. He smiles, his movements speeding up, their breathing shortening and their climax building in both their bodies, "Gods, I love you."
And then it is earth shattering light dancing behind her eyelids and he shakes on the brace that is supporting him as they come together in blinding bliss. She feels a warmth fill her and rolls her hips up into his several times over, wanting nothing more thank to draw this out, make it last forever.
She recovers first, her hand has become trapped between their chests, still grasping his pendants and she wriggles it free to stroke his face. He smiles through his haze, rolling off her and out of her. The loss sends cool air between her thighs and she misses him immensely, following his roll and laying on her side next to him.
She kisses him softly, her breathing finally slowing, her eyes closing with fatigue. He unclasps the brace on his arm, letting it fall from his skin, off the side of the bed and then his arm is around her, pulling her into his chest. There are no concerns about tomorrow, no qualms, no questions.
And there, as the rain and the snow comes down outside and he pulls the blankets over them, she finds herself unafraid to look him in the eye, unafraid to see what he's offering. Because the truth isn't scary, it's far from it.
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