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I Come Close

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Killian wants to blame all of this on the merger their company went through a year ago. And by "blame" he means "thank profusely," of course. That’s the only reason that Emma Swan came into his life. They were both senior project managers within their original companies and now they’re practically pitted against each other because of their own competitive streaks.

He remembers the way she came into his office on her first day, striding right up to his desk and planting her palms on either side of his name plate, fire in her eyes as her hair fell over her shoulders. 

“You stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours,” she declared. It had been suggested they work together on some middle-ground projects, but they’ve both waved it off and split the files, preferring to work with their own teams. 

And then, something shifted. They were each working late one night and he could hear her swearing up a storm, so even as he shut down his own office for the night, he made a decision to go to hers.

“Everything all right, Swan?”

“Just fucking dandy,” she replied, scowling at the screen in front of her.

“I know it’s against our nature to help each other out, but is there anything I can do?”

She’d looked up at him, then, considering him from behind her glasses, her hair swept up into a ponytail. 

“Actually, there is something you can do,” she’d replied, an innocent smile forming across her lips.

A half hour later, she was leading him inside her apartment. Forty-five minutes later, her hands were holding his head in place as he did everything in his power to get her off. 

It started as just sex. They had rules, of course, including those regarding the location and frequency of their visits. And no kissing , Emma had announced as her hand closed around his erection that first time. They were rules they’d strictly held in check for the last six months that they’d been sleeping together. 

Right up until the moment Emma showed up at his apartment and kissed him before she left. 

Since that day two weeks ago, they’ve seen each other after work every other day, sometimes going to his place instead of just to hers now. They’ve not kissed again.

When he shows up on a Friday after they’ve both left work for the day, he’s treated to a new surprise: Emma answers the door in a satin robe, pulling him in by his tie and locking the door behind him. He barely has time to take off his shoes before she’s leading him to the kitchen table, slipping the plastic bag off his prosthetic hook as she goes. 

“I wanna talk to you about trying something new,” she tells him as she pours the wine. “We’ve been doing this long enough that I trust you like… a lot. You know as well as I do that we’re always expected to be the ones that call the shots at work. Well, tonight, I want to give you that control over me. Is that okay?”

“Much like when we first began this, love, I just ask that you let me know what I can do.”

“We’ll get to that. Dinner comes before you do,” she says, grinning as she doles out the containers. 

She makes sure the whole kitchen is cleaned before she leads him back to her bedroom. The lights are dim, and her nightstand has been cleared of the miscellany that usually clutters it. Those items have been replaced by a bundle of satin, a bottle of lubricant, and a few sensory items that he doesn’t really focus on, instead turning back to Emma. 

“You have something in mind?”

“Well,” she says, going for the satin first. “I want you to help me with these, and then the rest is up to you.”

The bundle is, in fact, two restrains and an eye mask. The restraints are soft, and she shows him how to loop them around her wrists. They don’t tie, which means she can escape from them if needed. He does, however, have to tie them to her bed frame, but he waits until she’s put the eye mask on her head and gotten comfortable against the pillows. She rests her arms overhead and he works from there to tie the straps to the bars closest to her. 

She tests them a few times, making sure they’re the right tension, before she lays back and tries to relax. Her eyes land back on him, watching with interest as he loosens his tie. When he notices he has an audience, he slows down, drawing out the act as he makes eye contact with her. 

He sets the tie on her dresser, moving next to the buttons on his shirt and making quick work of those. The shirt gets draped over a chair she has in the corner of her room, and he quickly shuffles off his socks at the same time. Her eyebrow pops up in question when he turns his attention to releasing the straps that hold his prosthetic in place. 

“You don’t have to,” she tells him, and he can tell by her voice that she’s just trying to make sure he’s comfortable.

“I want to,” he says quietly, leaving the whole contraption next to his tie. 

Down to just his trousers, he moves back to the bed and stands there considering where to start. He supposes the first order of business is to undress her. 

“Shall I strip you with or without the blindfold?”


“As you wish.”

He tugs carefully on the tie holding her robe closed, giving a pleased hum as it easily comes loose and he can push apart the two sides to reveal nothing but a simple thong. Already he can see the dampness on the crotch and he looks up at her as he smirks. 

“So wet already,” he comments. He moves closer to her side, kneeling on the bed for a moment to ease the blindfold down over her eyes. “You say ‘stop’ and I will do so immediately, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, her voice sounding breathy already. 

He moves away from the bed again, instead weighing his options on the sensory items she’s left out. There are three items on the table: one is a feather tickler, one is a small vibrator, and the last is a small wheel with dull spikes on it. 

He starts with the wheel, hoping to catch her off guard by not going for the tickler first. As quietly as he can, he moves to the bottom of the bed, hovering just close enough that he can reach without giving away his position. With a quick motion, he runs the wheel along the arch of one foot, biting back a chuckle when she twitches and brings her whole knee up.

“Seriously?” she exclaims, The surprise evident on her face even with her eyes covered. 

“You’ve given me the control, Swan. Just try to relax.” 

She grumbles out something that he very much wants to respond to but turns his attention back to setting the wheel back against her skin and rolling it up her shin. He draws patterns around her knee and zigzags his way up her thigh before moving back to the other leg. He can hear her exhalation of disappointment and almost tells her she’s in for a long night of sighs like that. 

Going along the outside of her thighs is fun, but it’s when the wheel dips to her inner thighs that he really enjoys. He gets to watch as she tugs at her restraints, her hands reaching as if wanting to pull him to where she wants. Just as quickly, her arms flop back to the pillows. 

The rest of her skin gets the same treatment - he runs the wheel across her abdomen, where she squirms away from the ticklish sensation. He rolls it between her breasts. He varies the pressure as he goes to different areas, watching the way she twists and moves in reaction. 

Before moving on to the next item, he instead chooses to remove her underwear. He uses his hand and teeth to drag each side of the thong down at the same time, enjoying the way she says his name like a curse as he does. 

He wants so badly to sink into her already, to bring them both to completion in any way he can, but he knows she wants more than just one of these toys used, so he opts to grab the tickler after he drops her panties on the floor. This time, he starts from the top and works his way down. From the space just below her wrists, all the way to the tips of her toes, he brushes the bundle of feathers across her skin. 

Deciding to add a new element to it, he climbs onto the bed and straddles her with one knee on either side of her torso. Other than kneeling on the robe that was trapped beneath her, he makes sure he’s not hurting her in any way.

“Still okay?” he asks, needing that verbal confirmation before he continues. 

“Yeah, good,” she responds, moving just enough that her skin brushes against the fabric of his trousers. He watches as goosebumps form across her skin and her nipples tighten up further. He bites his bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to kiss her right now, as she is, but holding back to honor her rules. 

He doesn’t say anything further, instead leaning up so he can draw the tickler across her wrists again. This time, however, he follows the line of the feathers with his tongue, using it to draw intricate patterns along the path. 

It’s the first time her control breaks and she moans. He does the same on her other arm before moving down her chest. He shifts to straddle lower on her body so he can access each new part he plays with. She tilts her head to give better access to her neck, then arches up into his touch when he gets to her breasts. 

For a moment, the tickler gets left to the side as he does a thorough job of licking and nipping at each breast. By now he knows exactly how hard to bite each nipple to get the perfect response, and today is no different as she cries out, bucking her hips up in hope of meeting some kind of friction. 

He shifts again so one of his knees presses against the juncture between her legs as he licks across her chest and down her abdomen, giving her a taste of what she wants as she rubs her center against his leg. Before she can get off, however, he moves again. 

Ignoring where she wants him most, he continues to trail down her legs, enjoying the noises she makes when he brushes the feathers across the backs of her knees as he nips gently at her kneecaps. Down he goes until he gets to her ankles, and then repeats the sequence again on the outside and inside of each leg. 

She’s panting by now, and even with the lights as low as they are he can see she’s glistening with her own moisture. The vibrator and lubricant, it seems, will have to wait until another time. He moves off the bed for a moment in order to carefully shuck his trousers and boxers, watching in interest as Emma cocks her head and wondering if she can tell what he’s doing or if she’s trying to hear where he is. 

When he notices how parched he is and how she’s repeatedly closing her mouth and swallowing, he decides it’s okay for one last little trick. As he stands at the foot of the bed, he wraps his hand around one of her ankles and moves her leg outward. He repeats the same motion with her other leg, leaving her spread open for him. 

“Don’t move,” he instructs before exiting the room as quietly as he can and heading for her kitchen. He knows by now where she keeps her cups, and he finds one with a lid and a straw that he’s seen her drinking out of during meetings. He fills it quickly and heads back to the room.

“Sit up a little and drink,” Killian tells her, guiding her to the straw and smiling gently when she greedily gulps. 

“How did you know?” she asks after she quenches her thirst. 

Instead of responding, he takes his own sips from the drink before stopping up the straw and pulling it from the cool water and leaving the cup on the nightstand. Starting between her breasts, he lets drops escape as he moves down her body and she gasps and arches. 

“You asshole,” she pants, but whatever she planned to say after that is long lost as the last final drops land just above her clit. The straw gets thrown to the side as he moves quickly, sucking up those drops before closing his mouth around her clit, his tongue flicking across it in swift movements. 

He’s coerced a lot of noises out of her in their time together. She has moaned his name in every cadence he could possibly imagine. This time, she shouts, and he knows that he’ll have hell to pay for this eventually. He only lets up long enough to fully move onto the bed between her legs, burying his face between her thighs and working with the singular goal of making her orgasm. 

She was already close, so he’s not surprised when he barely gets through tracing her clit with a “K” as he’s going through the alphabet and she traps him where he is, cursing his name and tugging tight at the restraints for the first time during this whole adventure. She bucks up into his mouth, riding out the pleasure as long as she can before she collapses back to the bed, her legs and arms all going limp at the same time. 

So lost is he by leaving little kisses along her pubic bone that he doesn’t notice she’s slipped off one of the restraints until her hand is buried in his hair and she’s tugging hard. Killian moans against her heated flesh, his hips stuttering against the mattress for a second. 

She releases him to push up the blindfold, where she meets his gaze with her heated one. “Get up here and fuck me.”

“As you wish,” Killian says again, hoping eventually she’ll get the reference and infer the meaning. But until that day, he does just as she commands.