Jefferson x Emma

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[Credit to: QueeniesFanfictions. However, I did add more description and music.]

Lock Me Up

  "You're under arrest," Emma barks gruffly.

  Jefferson put up no restraint as Emma jerks his arms backwards to cuff him. Instead he just grins devilishly. "And for what reason?"

  Emma hesitates. There's no solid reason for her to be arresting him. But after two weeks of him lurking silently, always in the shadows, following her - she's had enough. It's too much for her to handle.

  "I don't need to explain my actions to you. Not now," she growls quietly. She then starts off with his rights - but he just stands there, relaxed as ever, a smirk across his face, a smirk that she itches to slap away.

  "Emma... Emma? Come on Emma, you can't keep me in here forever," he laughs softly.

  Rather than responding to the clearly insane man, Emma finds her face almost pressed into the desk as she struggles to focus on the paperwork before her. She swallows hard.

  "Emma... Little White Swan, talk to me," he coos softly.

  Finally she snaps and jerks upright, stalking across to him. She slams her hands to the bars either side of him but he doesn't flinch, just continues to lean lazily against them, arms resting on the bars.

  "Stop it. Can't you see I'm trying to work?"

  He shrugs. "It's boring in here."

  "It's a cell. Of course it's going to be boring."

  She goes to turn away, flinging her arms out with frustration with the irritating man, and then something unexpected happens. A hand, solid and burning hot, clamps down around one of her wrists and jerks her a step back against the cell. Then another hand wraps around her other wrist, holding her in position.

  Jefferson then pulls her arms backwards through the bars of the cell, crossing them almost painfully, acquiring a high level of control. She winces slightly, his breath warm and imposing against her ear.

  "I don't know what you're doing but stop it," she whispers fiercely, refusing to show her fear.

  He tugs a little harder on her arms and she lets out a small noise of pain, slipping out through gritted teeth. He leans his face against the bars so that his breath is warm and loud in her ear.

  "Emma. You have to believe."

  "Shut up," she mutters weakly.

  "Why do you fight it?"

  "Because it's ridiculous," she laughs faintly.

  "Is it really that ridiculous? Think about it," he murmurs, his voice warm and close.

  Even through the bars, she imagines she can feel the heat from his body. How nice it would be, to be absorbed within that heat. To be held. When was she ever held? Held properly? Not for a long time. Not even with Graham. She swallows uncomfortably, the silence and physical tension unnerving.

  "You're insane."

  He jerks on her arms once more and she rises on her tip toes, crying out in pain. She tries to pull away but he refuses to let go, his grip tight and unrelenting. His strength held her in place, taking advantage of her weakness.

  "I am not insane, Miss Swan. I'm far from it. I'm right and you know I am."

  She closes her eyes when his teeth latch onto her ear lobe, tugging on it gently. The heat that sears through her body makes her feel weak, unable to adjust her position to turn her head away. As her arms were pulled tightly, preventing movement, she was forced to endure this act of seduction.

  "Stop," she pleads softly, breathing beginning to hitch in her throat.

  He presses a kiss to her cheek, tongue darting out to caress her warm skin. She lets out a soft sigh of pleasure, heartbeat quickening as she struggles to regain control.

  "Open the cell door Emma," he demands, his voice husky and hoarse.

  "No," she's determined to defy him.

  "Yes."

  He lets her go and she jerks away, rubbing at her wrists. His eyes are deliciously dark, enticing and beautiful. He still leans against the bars, watching her, and despite how her mind screams at her to say no, to walk away, she finds herself walking back to the cell, her fingers trembling as she pulls out the cell key. She hesitates for a moment and he reaches through the cage. He toys with her hair, calloused fingers gentle, causing a shudder to spiral through her. He recoiled his hand back to the metal bars, a smirk playing on his lips.

  She unlocks the cell door.

  As soon as it opens, his hand is around her wrist that holds the key. He jerks her close and she drops it, reclaiming his dominance over her. His lips are feverish, burning hot - hotter than seems possible. Like the heat from his body. It envelopes her, dragging her in. Her mind screams at her to let go, roars at her to stop - and yet she continues, becoming lost in his kisses.

  He kicks the cell door shut, slamming her against it and she groans loudly, clinging to him. She tries to manage the situation, attempting to stop herself and him, but he presses on, deepening the kisses. She lets out a small sound of pleasure and runs her fingers through his thick hair, revelling in its softness.

  "I'm not insane Emma," he says against her lips, his voice low and warm, his eyes locking onto her jawline.

  She can't respond, her body screaming to deal with the assault on her senses, giving way to his relentless control.

  His lips trail from hers, across her jaw and down to her collarbone. He sucks softly and she clings to his shoulders, panting loudly as she struggles to control herself. But his touch makes her react like she'd never reacted before, igniting a fire within.

  "Tell me Emma," he commands.

  "Wha-" she can't finish the word, his deliciously expert lips and warm mouth making it impossible to form coherent thoughts.

  "I'm not insane," he growls, pulling back and watching her rapid breathing.

  "You're..." she swallows heavily, her heart racing. His eyes, so deep, so intense, so intimidating. "You're not insane."

  He grins victoriously and leans in to kiss her again, orbs locking onto her soft lips. This time, his hands wrap around her thighs causing her to tense under his touch. He grinned into the kiss, feeling her muscles tighten, and moves in closer, standing slightly taller giving him a bigger advantage. He pushes into her body, dropping her onto the bed and standing above momentarily. She lies back on the bed, eyes watching him, anticipation arising.

  "You, Miss Swan - you're mine tonight," he growls, a grin still covering his face.

  One more glance into those wicked eyes and she closes her own, a sense of warmth and compassion filling her from head to toe.

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