Gold/Emma massage
The two sat down on Mr Gold’s couch in his dimly-lit room and shared a sigh; Mr Gold, cane neatly disposed at his side, and the sheriff next to him. The man reached for his neck and flinched, obviously bothered by the small movements he tried to make. Emma observed him in silence before she took of her gloves and woolen hat and offered him a hand.
“You look tense. Here, let me do this for you.” They had spent an entire afternoon digging through the town’s archives for files to use in their battle against Regina. All the bending and rummaging hadn’t done the older man any good, Emma mused.
She gently eased him out of his jacket. He made no objections. Through the linen of his blouse he could feel her touch as she placed her hands on his back while figuring out what to do. With a determined look upon her face she formed her hands into fists and started rubbing them past hi clad back. All the while her mind screamed. She was giving the most feared man in the entire town a massage. A freaking. Massage.
Mr Gold flinched. “Is that how you’ve learned to do it?” Her hands were battering him now, like the people on television would do it whenever a sauna add popped up. She frowned and bit her lip, hands still battering away.
“I taught myself.” Emma said, hesitating.
Mr Gold let out a low chuckle.
“Oh, no, no, dear. Your grip is too tight and your hands brush too soft. Plus, the technique you use isn’t going to loosen me up.” He turned to her, hair swaying out of his face with a little nod of the head and dark eyes gleaming with jest. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.” He ushered her to change positions but she bristled and tried to protest. He would have nothing of it though. “No protest, Emma. I won’t take a no. Just relax and let my hands do their job.”
He placed his palms flat on her back before taking off her jacket and peeling off her white top. Her back was bare, almost completely but nor entirely. He tried again. Rough hands gently sweeping past the delicate bare skin of the town’s sheriff.
“We need to get rid of this… obstacle.” Mr Gold suddenly hummed, his voice was low and deep and sent a shiver down Emma’s spine.
“Oh, you mean my bra?” His silence was her confirmation. “Alright.” She unclasped it and shrugged it off her shoulders, leaving nothing in his way.
His hands moved all over her back, roaming up and down her bare skin, then settled at her shoulders where he started to draw circles. His rough fingertips were curling against her skin, then tugged gently, then harder. Each knot was rubbed and tugged away, earning loud hisses and gasps from the blonde who now gripped the pillows of the couch tightly, knuckles turning white, as she gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes.
She moaned and cursed as his touch actually hurt her. Each light trail of fingers was like torture, each movement of his warm hands made her feel hot until she noticed she had started to sweat. Her body was glowing, filled with warmth, her skin radiating the heat. Droplets of sweat made their way down her face and she blew air at them from the corner of her lips in a futile attempt to blow them away.
The pain got less and her skin felt more loose. She noticed how the stiff feeling of before was starting to fade. Another fit of hisses and gasps ensued when Gold gripped her by the neck and started massaging her there, his thumbs at the back and fingertips at the front.
“Are you trying to kill me?” She exclaimed, but he just shushed her and whispered that it’d soon feel okay. She silently cursed him for being right. Her body started to relax. Her joints were like new. Her skin was soft, not raw as she had expected. His touch was unexpectedly welcome. She wanted, nay, craved more.
But then he had stopped. With a last tickle of his fingers down her sides he had retreated and his touch was gone. She huffed in annoyance and turned to look at him from over her shoulder. He was searching for his jacket and she frowned. “I must admit that felt pretty good.” She finally acknowledged whilst brushing a strand of golden hair behind her ear.
The man let out a low sound as he reached for his cane. “I know,” he said, not looking at her. “I could feel you warming up.”
Emma blushed but wasn’t beaten yet. “Yeah, that is a normal reaction.” Wasn’t it?
“I never said so, did I?” Mr Gold cleverly retorted as he came eye to eye with Emma who was still glancing at him from over her shoulder. Now it was his turn to blush as he realized Emma was covering up her chest with her arms, but probably wasn’t aware that she was doing so.
“Don’t forget to dress, dearie.” Mr Gold hummed before pushing himself up from the couch. But Emma had grabbed his wrist and pulled him down again. “Oh no, not before I gave you the massage I promised you.” She instantly was upon him to take off his shirt and strip him down to the waist. She then pushed him to lean over the arm of the couch as she tried to imitate the movements he had made with his hands.
All Mr Gold could do was give into her wishes and smile.
“Hmm, topless massage.” He murmured. “Who would have guessed?”