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In the swirl of passion	By : Lywhn Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 35043 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Disclaimer: Yeah, to fulfill the new duty of aff.net I state that I don't make any money with this story and that - of course - the characters not mine, but belong to J.M.Barry (excepting the fairy-queen). This valids for the whole story!

Chapter 1 - Not so little any more

How she got caught by Hooks pirates she didn’t know. One moment she had collected berries for dinner and in the next moment eight wild looking men had pointed pistols at her, encircled her. She was too shocked to react quickly enough and they pulled her roughly to one of the great longboats and took her to the Jolly Roger.
Wendy bit her full lips. She knew exactly what would come – so she thought. Hook would ask her for Peter’s secret hideout and eventually would take his revenge on her, what would mean to kill her.
James Hook was not a man of forgiving and she had fooled him four years ago during her first – and last – stay in Neverland. She had begged him to let her give a thimble to Peter who laid beaten at his feet and he had allowed so, not seeing the trap she had had in mind. She saved Peter by giving him her hidden kiss, restoring so his drawn strengths and defeated Hook together with her brothers and the Lost Boys by chanting him to his doom: Old, alone done-for! She thought him dead since than, swallowed whole by the giant crocodile. What a surprise to hear from Peter that the ‘old codfish’ still lived. He had slashed his way out of the beast by using his sharp hook, killed the reptile in this process, swam to the shores, reunited his men and captures his ship back after Peter returned from London. Peter had warned her before he took her back to Neverland – three days ago – that Hook had survived and was seeking for revenge more fiercely than ever. They had beaten him once, why not twice?
So she, her brothers and the former Lost Boys followed Peter back to the mystical island of ever lasting childhood, met the new Lost Boys and build a gang of cocky, laughing boys and a girl, which took responsibilities when ever necessary. And Wendy was good in this. With her 16 years now she knew exactly when their jokes went too far and she had Peter’s full assistance in holding them back then. It had been a good time – the three days after their return to Neverland, days full of laughter, joy and adventures. And now is seemed that they would be her last days.
Shivering she looked up at the Jolly Roger as the longboat went length side and Cecco – the big pirate with his long hair and the grim smirk on his black face – mentioned for her to climb the ladder up. Wendy saw no other choice and obeyed. With damp, stiff fingers she climbed on the main deck, Cecco directly behind her.
Cheering erupted as she reached the deck; strong hands pulled her on board and held her. Cecco smiled. “Do ya know ‘er still?” he asked loud.
Albino – recognizing the face immediately – whistled. “Look, the chicken has grown into a paradise-bird!”
“But this will not save you, girly!” a raspy voice cried and the ships cook – Cookson – forced his way through his comrades. His long, ugly face twisted in a cruel sneer, as he pointed to the long scarf at his cheek. “I haven’t forgot you, girly!”
Wendy’s heard beat so hard and quick in her breast, that she thought she would faint, but then she held her head up and looked straight in the light eyes of the ship-cook. “I remember you as well, Mr. Cookson. I don’t meet every day a living scarecrow!”
Some of the pirates started to laugh. “Look, still so brave!” one of them shouted.
“Gentlemen, may I ask what this noise has to mean?” The dark voice came from nowhere and Wendy’s heard stopped for a moment. She knew this voice! She would recognize it every time and everywhere! Heavy boots stepped over the wooden planks and the young girl tried to control the rising panic. She held her breath as the owner of the voice came near, the other pirates making room for him. And then, after all this time, she saw the blue-like-forget-me-not eyes of Captain James Hook again.
He hadn’t changed a bit. His midnight-black hair hung in thick curls down on his broad shoulders and his back, his brows where black and tight, his light tanned face was even with its strong chin and the high cheekbones and around his always arrogantly smirking lips was still a well cutted moustache. He wore one of his rich decorated velvet coats, this day in a dark blue, which accented his eyes. Beneath it was a silver-blue waistcoat and a dark blue shirt, the open collars showed his strong throat and a part of his breast. Blue breeches and black high boots completed his out-fit. For the first time and with the eyes of not such a child anymore Wendy realized, that he truly was a handsome man – and a very dangerous one as well.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw whom his men had captured, his steel blue eyes widened in surprise. “Wendy Darling!” he whispered and stepped slowly to the girl, eyeing her careful. He took in her angelic features, her big blue-grey eyes and her full red lips. She had changed, for sure! She reached him until the mouth, her face had turned nearly in this of a woman and the silky white nightgown hidded not enough her slender form and showed some soft curves which a child could not posses. Her walnut brown hair had lengthened nearly her waist and the sun of Neverland had chanted some golden highlights in the soft waves. She had been a beauty as child, now she was even more beautiful. He took a deep breath and broke the silence.
“Look, look. Our little Wendy is not so little anymore!” His eyes went smaller. “I’d never thought you so foolish to return to Neverland. Or didn’t our dear Peter tell you that I am still alive?” His dark voice sounded calm, which made Wendy more nervous. She knew that he was most dangerous when he stayed calm. And by the look of his eyes he was waiting for an answer.
“He told me that you have escaped the croc”, she said as content as possible. She would not show him how afraid she was. If he was going to kill her – and it was clear that he would! – than she would not give him the triumph in scaring her. She would die with her head up! But the truth was: she was scared, much more than ever before.
He gave the man who held her a signal and the pirate stepped back. Slowly he circled her, looking her small form up and down. “So then there are two possibilities: You are much more braver I ever thought or you are stupid to return to Neverland!”
Wendy took a shuddering breath and stayed silent.
“I think its both a little bit”, he continued, ended his inspection and stood before her. His eyes roomed over her face and fixed upon her mouth. These crimson full lips, which seemed to tempt every man to taste them and which had once saved Peter Pan. The same mouth that had formed the words to his nearly doom. He straightened his shoulders and looked at Cecco. “Where did you find her?”
“Nearly the beach. ‘had collected berries.”
Hook nodded. “Near the beach”, he thought loud. “I think, our pretty storyteller can tell us how fare she had to carry her berries to bring them to Pans hide-out.”
Wendy straightened her shoulders. “We both know that I never will tell you!”
A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “Still the collected, brave Wendy. Tell me, my beauty, how had Pan reacted as he saw you as a nearly grown-up?”
She only glared at him.
“Or hadn’t he recognized it? The boy could be so blind sometimes!” Mild sarcasm laid his his voice. “He only sees what he want to see.”
“And you love to pull everything in the dirt!” she snapped back.
Amusement blinked in his eyes. “And you love to play with fire, my dear!” he retorted dryly. He looked at Smee, who stand beside him. “Take the young lady to my quarter. We have to... discuss some small things before I deciding what to do with her!”
“Come on, Captain, we both know that you will kill me. So go ahead and be done with it!” Her voice did not betray her fear; only deep in her eyes Hook saw the panic, which was rising by every minute, which went by.
“Maybe I will show mercy if you cooperate and tell me where Peters hide-out is.”
Wendy balled her hand into fists to hide her trembling fingers. “You know no mercy!” she whispered.
He took her chin in his hand and looked deep into the great blue-grey pools of her eyes. “Maybe I prove you wrong, maybe not. It’s up to you, my beauty!” A purr sounded in his voice and not for the first time Wendy felt a knot in her stomach, which wasn’t born out of fear. As child she had been enchanted by his eyes, voice and hole appearance. Now she could feel his power and his strength, too. And there was something more she couldn’t name. It hadn’t anything to do with the pirate in him but with the man. His nearness made her uneven. In another life and reality she would have shown interest in him, even would flirting with him, but here he was only a dangerous enemy who would show no pity and would brutally murder her.
He pulled her at one arm and tracked her beside him. “Come! I think we both have much to talk!”
He leaded her the stairs up to the bridge. “Look out for Pan!” he ordered. “It will not take very long until he misses our dear storyteller and sure as fire in the hell he will come!”
Wendy cringed inwardly. Hook would use her as leverage, there was no doubt. ‘Please, Peter, stay back!’ she prayed silently as the pirate-captain shoved her not too roughly through the door in his quarters, closed it and pulled her along with him.
“Please, take a seat!” It was an order and Wendy thought it better to obey. He stepped behind her at the table and took a bottle. “Do you like something to drink?” His politeness unnerved her even more.
“No, thank you!”
He shrugged and filled his glass with a dark red wine. “So, you are all back than?” he asked and Wendy saw no reason to deny it.
“Yes.”
“Very good! You spare me a travel to London then.”
Wendy knew exactly what he meant. “You have no possibility to leave Neverland”, she retorted bravely, risking his anger.
“After Pans death I can leave. This is for sure!” he answered in still the same calm voice.
“For this you must have him first”, she said quietly.
“I will! Don’t think otherwise.” He emptied the glass, his eyes fastened on the young girl in one of his seats. The warm radiances of the sun, which came through the open windows, bathed her in a golden shine; let her brown hair even glistening more and brought a gleam over her pearl white skin. “You have grown in quiet the beauty you promised as child”, he whispered. “How old you are now?”
Wendy lifted one brow. “Sixteen and a half. Why?”
He closed the distance to her and touched her cheek with his good hand, warm from the sun and soft as velvet. “So young!”
A shiver run down her spine and she looked at her trembling fingers in her lap, didn’t dare to turn her face away from his touch. His fingers traveled softly over her cheek to her chin and then to her mouth. The knot in her stomach tightened and she closed her eyes. A mistake, as she realized moments later. His touch seemed to be more intense, let her lightly shudder.
Hooks gaze moved over the angelic face before him, over the long dark lashes, the fine swung brows, the flushed cheeks and finely over her trembling mouth. Heat spread through his body – not the heat of hate or of fight, but the heat of beginning longing. It had been an eternity since he had slept with a woman at last and the young girl before him was an incredible beauty. Right, she fooled him, she wanted him to die, but with every passing moment it counted more and more less.
His pulse starting to quicken by the imaging of the chance he had at hand. She wasn’t exactly a child anymore, but a mere young woman and she was in his power. She could be his, if he wanted – and Alas, he wanted it! And what a revenge it would be to seduce her in giving in to him, to welcome him in her arms. He had intrigued her, as she was child. The glances she had given him spoke an own language, even if she hadn’t knew it. He dared to believe that this hadn’t changed. He could feel her lightly tremble and with the instinct of a man he sensed that this wasn’t complete out of fear. On the other hand he knew for sure, that she was terrified for what should come to her.
He let his hand sank and stepped back. “You don’t have to die, my beauty”, he murmured.
Her eyes snapped open and she looked at him. “I will never tell you where the hide-out is!” she said firmly. “And of course you will take your revenge on me. I am not a fool, captain!”
“This I am doubting”, he answered with a smirk. “Otherwise you hadn’t come back to Neverland!” He lifted one brow. “What was the reason? A new run-away from home and your parents or from the coming life as a grown-up?”
“That is not your business!”
The smirk turned into a smile. “Ah, from everything a bit, I think!” He turned away from her to close the windows. What he had in mind wasn’t anything for the ears of the crew! “Well, someone has to show you that to be an adult isn’t so bad after all and...” He saw a flicker in one of the colored glasses of the great windows and felt a movement in his back. Out of pure instinct he whirled around and raised his hook. The iron met with the steel of a dagger. For a moment he was nearly shocked, seeing the unexpected fury in the eyes of his captive, than anger rose in him.
“How dare you, girl!” he snarled, trying to catch her arm.
Wendy jumped back, the dagger still in her hand, her eyes flashing. “I am only protecting myself!”
The look in his eyes turned in cold anger. “By trying to kill me?”
“When you are in the hand of pirate there only two possibilities left: Kill or be killed!” she snapped back. “And after you was so nice to let the weapon laid on the table, I would be really a fool not to take my chances!”
Damn it! He hadn’t thought about the dagger, laying at the table.
“It isn’t really nice to attack from behind, my dear. Or to tell it otherwise: bad form!”
Her eyes were blazing. “You are a pirate. There can never be a bad form in fighting you!”
He pressed his lips together in burning anger. “Lay this down, girl! I only warn you one time!”
Wendy let not any fear rising in her. It was the only chance she had and she would use it. Without another word she attacked again, pointing the sharp steel of the weapon at Hooks chest.
The pirate-captain reacted immediately, jumping to the side and blocked the dagger with his hook again. “Damn it, little-one, I will get you for this!” He tried to get in her back, but Wendy saw this coming, turned around and held her weapon before her.
Hooks eyes narrowed, twinkled dangerously. “Don’t you dare me to fight, Wendy. You have no chance against me!” The edge in his voice scared her, but she put her fears once more at bay and lifted her chin in defiance.
“I know. But I will dying in fight, not slaughtered like a livestock!”
Devil and hell, this girl had courage! He had to respect that. “I have not to kill you”, he gave back.
“We both know that you will!”
He looked her up and down. Her flushed cheeks, the fire in her grey-blue eyes, the way to stay in fighting-stance – she was quiet a sight, tempting like nothing else. He felt himself hardening, as blood rushed into his groin. “You only waste time by playing this game, which I will win in the end!” – ‘A game, what will be another one than this!’ he thought to himself, realizing how much the girl had waken a long denied hunger in him.
“Maybe”, she answered angry. “Maybe not!” She lifted her dagger and attacked again, trying to under run his defiance.
Hook only blocked the weapon and stand out of her reach. Her hair flew behind her like a brown-golden mane, silver sparkles danced in her eyes; her movements were controlled and graceful in once. Burning desire shot through his body. Yes! He would take her! But not by force. He would brake down her resolve and would show her how to fly without fairy dust. She would squirm beneath him, screaming in pleasure! Even the thoughts were enough to let his length hardening to a painful level. His breeches were suddenly too tight, his breath caught in the throat.
With a low growl he caught her right arm, let his hook hitting the dagger with full might and the weapon flew in a high bow in an edge of the cabin. Her scream of outrage and fear only turned him on more. He twitched her hand behind her back, wrapped his right arm around her and pulled her flush against his body. A bolt of pure energy erupted from his guts as her soft body came in touch with his length. He met her widened eyes and whispered hoarsely: “Yes, you are right. I will kill you – not one time but over and over again!”
Before she could ask what that meant, his mouth were on hers, let her stiffen in utterly shock. She felt his lips, soft and demanding in one; the hairs of his beard scratched slightly at her sensitive skin, his breath was warm on her cheek. At first taken too aback to react she offered barely resistance as his embrace tightened and his tongue stroke over her lips, seeking entrance, let her heart skip a beat.
That waked her up and she tried to push him away – with no result, of course. His arms were like steel, his fingers cupping her back of the head, compelled her to hold still. She trying to stifle a yelp and he took his chance and slipped his tongue in her mouth. She could taste tobacco and wine, but also the smell of the sea and above all him self. An intense mixture of man and power, what sent a strong shiver down her spine and let her stomach knotting even more. Desperately she pushed against him, tug at the soft velvet of his sleeves, trying to escape him but only find herself pressed harder into him.
A low groan soared from his throat, which let her shiver. She attempted to evade the teasing fondle of his hot tongue, which send a strange bolt through her whole body. The flat side of his hook stroked smoothly over her back further down, his fingers lost their grip, skimmed over her hair, while his tongue explored her mouth even deeper. For a moment Wendy closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of the black curly mane and the tanned face over hers. The same mistake like before! His kiss seemed to be more intense; she felt the rapidly beat of his heart and a growing hardness at her abdomen. She cursed herself as a wave of sensation washed over her. His embrace was warm, dispelled a part of the cold the fear had set into her flesh and the stroking of his fingers calmed her a little bit – despite the fact that she laid in the arms of one of the most dangerous pirate-captains of the Seven Seas and that she was one of his greatest targets for his revenge!
Hook was lost in the warmth and the sweetness that was this girl. These full lips, which had haunted him since their first meeting, were even softer he had imagined and she tasted like honey. There was a smell of peach she must had eat before and something else what was pure Wendy – Red-Handed Jill, the little storyteller, who nearly sealed his doom and tried to kill him only moments ago. This only intensified his lust more, let him his kiss deepening and shot a flash of heat into his lumbar region. He felt her tense, realized that she started to bridle and dug his fingers in her hair, forced her to remain still. He pressed her petit body into his, groaned soundless as he could feel every soft curve of her and as she tried to wriggle free and her abdomen brushed again over is length he moaned. God damn it, but he had to be careful not to lose complete control.
Her slender fingers clung into his sleeves and he unfastened the hard grip at her hair, stroked through the silky strands and let his right arm roamed over her small back, down to her butt. A desperate sound escaped her and he could feel her trembling, as she started to hit him weakly. He tore his mouth from hers and she gasped for air. Instantly he missed the contact, was hungry for more. He met her damp eyes and saw satisfied her swollen lips.
“Stop this!” she panted. “Stop this right now!” She was shocked behind comprehension. He was her sinister villain from her childhood-stories; the great enemy in a fight between good and evil four years ago; he was a grown-up man and she felt herself still as a half child. It was not possible that he treated her like that. It simple could not be!
Hook only smiled, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “I haven’t even truly start, my beauty”, he whispered huskily.
“No!” Her voice became stronger. “I will not let you kiss me again!”
A chuckle rumbled in his breast. “Little innocence. There is very much more than a simple kiss – or should I say ‘thimble’?”
Wendy evaded his gaze, blushing. “Do not mock me! You had and will never understand it!”
“Oh, I think, I understood perfectly well what happened at this evening. You lied to me, tricked me with your artless tears and the mistakable plea to give a thimble to the boy, knowing exactly what would come out of it.” He seized her neck and she winced. “Because of you, my sweet little-one, my save victory turned into ashes and I nearly died. Because of you and your tempting mouth the blasted brat still lives.” He let go of her neck, pressed the blunt side of his hook in her back, during his hand traveled down her spine. “Because of you I am still a prisoner of this cursed island!” He covered on of her buns, felt the warmth of her skin through the silk of her nightgown. Her eyes widened more. “Believe me, my dear, you will pay for all you did to me. But maybe it will not so unpleasant for you.”
“What do you mean by this?” she stammered, every sense in her gave alarm. The wicked smile on his face remained, as he pressed her lower half tight against his pulsing length. “I am sure you had this special ‘talk’ with your mother by now. You are old enough for it.”
Suddenly it struck her what he meant. Her face paled several shades and the fear she had suppressed the whole time, rushed back with all its might.
“No”, it was not more than a breath. “No, you can’t do this!”
“I can and I will”, he stated, bowed his head and nipped at her still swollen lips.
With a scream she turned her face away and started to push, wriggle, hit, but it last not more than some seconds to bear down her resistance. His arms encircled her immovable and as she began to kick violently he snared one of her legs with his and brought her to her knees, following her.
Wendy knew that she had not chance to escape his grip, the still rising panic stiffen her. “Please”, she whispered with a sob, “please, don’t do this. Kill me, but please don’t rape me!”
It was like a slap in the face. He loosened his iron grip a bit, still alert for any sign of a new attack from her. But she didn’t try to hit him again and as she lifted her face he felt a small pang of regret. Tears streamed down her white cheeks, her lips were trembling and the look of her big eyes was that of sheer horror. She was terrified to say the least; her heart beat like that of a bird.
His features softened and he cupped one of her wet and suddenly very cold cheeks with his good hand. “Listen to me, my beauty. I have done many crimes – crimes, which ashamed even me, but one thing I have never done and will never do: rape. I don’t take women by force.” He looked deep in her still watering eyes, which pleaded for mercy, pressed an almost tender kiss to her icy forehead and stroke her cheek with his thumb. “Calm down, Wendy. Yes, I am a villain, but not such a monster to violence an innocent mere young woman like you are.”
The coldness still held her in its grip; the horrid vision of going to be raped lingered in her mind, but a part of her listened to the soft, deep voice of her captor. She wanted to believe him in this moment, hoped above every reason that he spoke the truth and would not force himself upon her.
He held her gentler now, caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead in the most feather lightly way. It comforted her, the gesture was familiar to her. She felt the soft material of velvet and silk beneath her hands, the warm arms enveloped her, dispelled the ice out of her body more and more.
Of course she didn’t trust him. Not one bit. But she believed his word when he said he wouldn’t take her by force. Despite the fact that he was a criminal he had always acted like a gentlemen when females were involve. Right, nearly always. There was the time he made her walk the plank and he threw her hard to the floor beside Peters beaten form, but the other times he treated her like a lady. Even several minutes ago, when she attacked him with the dagger, he didn’t hurt her. He would have his revenge on her. She knew there was no doubt in that, even if he nearly cradled her now in his arms. She could feel his lips touching her temple, his fingers interlaced with her hair again. His mouth was warm, as his breath and his whole body. His lips left a strange hot trail as they traveled down over her close lids and her cheek, tasting her salty tears. She started to cringer once again, alert what he had in mind.
“Sh, my beauty, don’t be afraid.” His tone was incredible soft, as he settled himself and his young captive down on the, with thick carpets covered floor. “It’s more comfortable so.”
Her unsteady gaze met his dark blue one. “What do you want?” she asked in a small voice, still afraid of what could come.
A amuse smirk played around his mouth. “I think you know that.” His lips were only inches away from hers. “I want to taste you again.”
She yielded back and found herself once again pressed to his chest. “You have my word that I will not rape you, but I will be damned if I don’t kiss you!” he whispered huskily and clamped his mouth over hers, more roughly this time. She gasped and his tongue finding again his way inside of her warm, sweet cavern, stroking hers with growing hunger, withdraw and sucking gently at her bottom-lip before he re-entered her mouth.
He felt her grip on his sleeves loosening, her head fell in her neck and a small moan soared from her throat, which was music in his ears. His own desire surprised him, as every fibrous of his body reacted to the first sign of her beginning surrender. His skin was on fire where ever he felt her body and his cupidity for her grew even more. He pulled her closer to him, let his good hand wander over her shoulder and her arm, back over her shoulder and glided further down, nearing his first destiny.
The panic had left Wendy, but she was still wary. It was clear that she couldn’t stop him. If he wanted to kiss her he would exactly do this and she feared his returning anger if she would put up more resistant. She had no other choice as to believe his promise that he wouldn’t violence her.
His kiss was wilder than before, deeper and much more boisterous. His lips assaulted her, plundered her mouth with all the passion of the pirate he was. The coldness in her body started to melt away, made room for a soft sensation of growing warmth. She shivered deep inside as his taste and scent overwhelmed her more and more. A shudder ran along her skin, finding an echo in her stomach and as he bit ever so softly in her bottom lip, a strange groan dwelled up in her. Something in her abdomen answered in a silent way, let her breath quicken and her heart beat faster. And than his hand cupped one of her breast and she gave a little squeal in shock and suddenly a flash that shot through her entire being. She tried to avert his demanding mouth and his bolding fingers, but found herself unmovable. Fire seemed to come from his hand, as he gentle massaged the sensible flesh, stroking the hardening nipple through the silky material of her gown with his thumb. He let her mouth go and nipped at her jaw, down her throat and buried his face in her soft hair, found the sensitive spot behind her ear. A further gasp escaped her and flustered she leaned back in a weak try to end this strange, soft attack. It did her no good, because she lost balance and fell backwards to the floor.
He was over her only an instant later, finding her mouth again and kneaded the full curve of her breast. He felt her small form beneath him, her returning wriggling raised his hunger more and more. He pinched her nipple, elicited a helpless yelp from her, until her fingers, which clawed to his upper arms, loosening their grip. In the same moment he moved his hand to the other side, to give the second breast the same attention, but she caught it and tore her mouth from his.
“Don’t. You. Touch. Me. In. This. Way.”
Her cheeks – minutes ago pale as a table clothes – had turned into a crimson red and her voice sounded hoarsely.
He smirked. “And why not, my sweet girl? You liked it, don’t say otherwise.”
She blushed even more, what seemed nearly impossible. “I am not your girl! And…”
His lips brushed over hers. “You are and have always been. You can deny it as long as you whish, but it was me who had been in your stories first.”
“As the rascal!” she cried.
“Ah, but still I was there and this damned boy came later. Very much later I dare to say!” He braced his weight on his right arm and stroke slowly through her hair at her temple. “I might be the villain, who also had been fooled by you, but if I would be half so cruel as you thought, I would plunge my hook into you. Still I am gentle, don’t intend to hurt you.”
“There must be a snag. I know you too well!” she answered with returning bravery.
A grin spread across his face. “The snag is pleasure – for both of us.”
She threw her upper body up to push him away, with the result that her hyper stimulated breast connected with his still clad chest, what let both gasp.
“There is no need for hurry, sweetie”, he murmured and pressed his abdomen in hers. “I will not deny you anything you whished for.”
Wendy felt the bulge between his legs, hot and hard as stone. She wasn’t that naive, she knew exactly what it was and what it signified. “Get. Of. Me.”
“Why? I find it very comfortable here!”
She would love to slap this arrogant, wicked smile from his face, but didn’t dare. So she tried to get him with his own weapons. “If you are used to lay on the floor, than that speaks for it self. I, for my part, prefer a canapé or a bed, like every other cultivated people.” In the next moment she realized her third mistake. His grin widened.
“With this I have no problem. I prefer a bed as well.” Before she could react he stand up, pulled her with him, picked her up and carried her with long steps to the broad bed.
“Let me down!” she protested.
“Your whish is an order for me”, he mocked and she found herself in the red and gold bedspread, which covered the pillows and the sleeping blanket.
Hook smirked, opened his golden weapon sash and let it fall down.
The girl used the little chance, rolled to the opposite side and tried to jump up, as his right arm wrapped around her waist and hovered her back on the bed. A scream in defiance and frustration erupted from her throat, both from the inability to escape him and the unwelcome thrill, which nearly overpowered her. In a last desperate try she hit him, but he caught her hands, forced them over her head and held them there with one hand.
“Enough, little wildcat”, he said firmly, controlled his lust one more time, and lifted his hook.
Wendy grew stiff, her eyes widened in fear as the iron steal came down and lay between her breasts. “Is that how you are keeping your promises?” she whispered.
One edge of his mouth curled into a wicked grin. “Who says that I am threaten you?” With this he sliced through the silken material, never cutting her in the process.
Air touched her bare skin, but this wasn’t the reason for her outrage. “You barbarian! This was my only clothes I brought with me to Neverland!”
Hook chuckled. “You won’t need it anymore, my beauty. I will give you a new dress.”
“I don’t take anything from YOU!”
“No problem”, he retorted dryly, letting his hungry gaze washed over her exposed, well-curved little breasts and the pink, hardened nipples. “I like you naked even more.”
That did it. Fear turned into fury. “Damned bastard! I am not a whore! Or a...”
His mouth sealed hers, while he shifted his weight, pressing her wrists with his right arm in the pillows, stilled her legs with one of his own and cupped her left breast with his hand, kneading the tender flesh.
The feeling of his warm, rough hand on her bare skin shot heat through her whole body. She read books about the act of love between a man and a woman – forbidden books as her aunt Millicent said, shocked as she had found them in the room of her nice. Despised this she had read them, but no line of what the authors had written had prepared her for the sensation she experienced know.
A flash drove from her upper body to her womb and as he removed his lips from hers and closed them around one nipple, starting to suck at it, she couldn’t repress a throaty moan. The difference between his soft mouth and his moustache even heighten the sensation. Flames seemed to burn under her skin and when his tongue danced around the little, hard peak of flesh she pressed her eyes shut and couldn’t do anything but bear the growing fever, which started to posses her. An unfamiliar pulsation awakened between her legs, grew with every passing second, until it nearly hurt. Her breath was heavy by now and as his hand stroke gently over her belly, her hip and her one leg, she gasped for air. God helped her, but what he did to her felt too good. She knew what his intention was, that he tried to seduce her to keep his word and although have her. But she was helpless against the sheer pleasure he gave her in this moment, defenseless against her own body, which betrayed her more and more.
She lifted a little bit her head, looked down to him, as he kissed her breast, played with it, his face a mixture of desire and satisfaction, his black curls falling over her form – soft and warm. It excited her, even as her mind screamed that he would win, that she was on the best way to give herself to this dark man who only want revenge on her. But as he bit her careful, the waves of pleasure destroyed her clear thoughts once more and she recognized only several moments later that the loud groan that hanged in the room was her own.
She sensed his hand on her leg, beneath the nightgown, traveling with feather light touches to her inner tights and the fire burned up. With a last try to stop him she whispered a half-hearted plea, but it wasn’t heard or he ignored her. And then he touched her most vulnerable part of her body, and she was lost. Closing her eyes again she only felt the slow stroke of his finger between her folds and the teasing mouth on her breasts. No forbidden fantasy, no talk with her mother, no book had ever revealed the truth of sensation, which washed in boiling waves over her whole being. And than his finger entered her, dived in the hot wetness of her body. The short stab of pain dissolved in the growing thrill. A low scream escaped her lips and she bucked her hips to be closer to his hand, the intense pleasure nearly too much to bear.
She felt him chuckle and meet his burning blue eyes, as he lifted his head and give her arms free. She wouldn’t try to fight him now, she was too far-gone.
Hook looked down at the young beauty. The angelic face showed wonder and pleasure, her long hair laid like a dark hallow around her, her wide eyes were glassy, her full, swollen lips were open and her features mirrored the experience of the begin of the first ecstasy of her life.
To taste the smooth skin of her breast had nearly burned him, the rapid beat of her heart and the low sighs had rang in his ears, but to feel her in this way was even better. He was surprised to find her so wet and ready and to bury his finger in her had nearly driven him over the edge. He was aroused beyond anything else. The breeches pressed painful in his guts, his length threatened to explode by every moment. He wanted her – now! All devils and demons of the world helped him but if he won’t take her soon he would lose his mind. He wanted to be in her, to feel all of her – she, his almost grown-up storyteller Wendy.
He could smell her desire, the sweet scent of her lingered in his nose. She was close. He could sense it. And as she lifted her hands to cling to his shoulder and upper arm and bucked into his hand, he bowed down and kissed her again, enjoyed her willing mouth and her eager play of her little, hot tongue. He added a second finger and pressed his thumb on her clit, what let her sighed. He tore his lips from hers and quickened the rhythm, felt the first contracts of her hot channel around his fingers. She clung to him and as he put his right arm under her neck, she throw her head back and he could feel and see her full surrender. Her lids flattered down, low moans erupted from her throat.
Wendy was lost in the burning feeling of his fingers in her and what his ministration had awakened. A hot knot had built in her womb, grew with every passing moment, tickled and teased her, stole her breath and let the world around her fade. Only the man, who gave her this pleasure still existed.
Her whole being trembled, seeking desperately for something she couldn’t name and what seemed to be close enough to catch it. Helpless she squirmed, holding to the man above her, thought that the sensation couldn’t grow any more, but it did, let her moan over and over again. And then the reality started to skip. A scream rose inside of her and the knot tighten to an unbearable limit. His fingers dared deeper but the slightly pain was nothing comprehended to the feeling they aroused. And suddenly they touched something in her, a spot she even didn’t know exist, while his warm, stroking thumb pressed down on the little knot between her folds. Losing all control the heat exploded in her, let her screamed like never before and drove her over the edge, as the first orgasm of her life hit her. She wriggled again and again, sobbing incoherence non-sense as she rode in the waves of sheer ecstasy. Stars were around her, took her with them and left her trembling and boneless behind. Her nerves sang a new melody, impossible not to hear and to intense to ignore. She could feel the blankets beneath her, the soft velvet of his coat and then his searing lips on hers, his dark curls brushed over the voluptuous skin of her breast.
“My sweet girl.” It was not more than a whisper, soft and purring.
Unbelieving and out of breath she looked up to him, his deep blue eyes shining with warmth and not allayed hunger.
He took in her flushed face, in her wondrous and glassy eyes, her cries still ringing in his ears, as he licked his fingers, tasting her very essence. She blushed crimson red, but even his rising amusement could not keep his desire at bay any longer. He had always known that she had fire and he had anticipated that she would grow into a passionate woman. But that had outdone his bolded dreams. He kissed her again, let her taste herself, brushed his mouth over her cheeks, salted from both tears and sweat. Her breath hadn’t calm down and a small, shivering hand touched his own cheek in a shy gesture.
Hook sat up, his good hand stroke from her throat down between her breasts, felt the flattering beat of her heart and stayed at her belly. His whole body was on fire, his pulse drummed in his ears, the too long denied desire of his body demanded its rights. He stripped out of his captain-coat, undid the buttons of his waistcoats and threw it on the floor beside the coat. He couldn’t wait any longer!
Wendy laid weak upon the blankets, not able to move a finger. She couldn’t believe what had happened. She never had felt so much alive as now – and never so ashamed. What had she done? What had she let him do to her? Had she gone completely mad? He was her captor, for god’s sake, a criminal, murderer and plunderer; the greatest villain the world had ever seen and she...
Hook nearly ripped his shirt from his body, his fingers trembling too much to open the laces correctly. His eyes were fix on hers, holding her only with his gaze; and felt at the same time draw to the blue-grey pools. Her small form shivered anew, a further tear escaped her long lashes, her face was still flushed in a delicate way, her hair spread over the blanket, the remaining silk of her tore nightgown clung to her damp, shining skin. She really was a beauty and now – with the beginning knowledge – even more.
Her eyes widened as he removed his shirt, roaming over his strong chest, the broad shoulders, the flat belly and the trim waist. Some dark curls coated here and there his upper body, ending in a small line under his breeches. His black mane was a sharp contrast to his light skin. A dark tattoo was on his upper left arm, a smaller one on his right one, half covered by the leather streams of the harnish, which hold the wooden cuff with the silver shining hook on his stump. The leather bit in his skin but even with it he looked breathtaking. She had seen statues in the museums in London – Greek gods, built in stone and the paragon of male beauty – but this was real and even better.
Heat shot in her cheeks again. Goodness, what did she thought? Had she lost her mind? In several moments he would take her honor, the remaining rest of her innocence; he, the unscrupulous pirate-captain of her nightmares and she compared him with Greek statues?
Hook watched her reaction and bowed over her. “Do I scare you, my beauty?” he asked silently. “Does this scare you?” He nodded to the harnish and the cold prosthesis and was surprised to find no repulse on her face.
“No”, she whispered. It wasn’t the hook she feared, it was he and what he was capable of.
He smiled and cupped her face. “Don’t be afraid, Wendy. I will be as gentle as possible.” He meant it. He knew that it was indispensable to hurt her at the first time, but he would not bring her more pain than necessary. He bent down and kissed her again, his good hand fingering her breast.
Hesitating Wendy opened her mouth and let him in. There was no way in stopping him or to flee from this and her body had its own will, reacting to his soft assaulting again.
Shouts from outside penetrated the cabin and one word was clearly to hear: “Pan!”
Hook cursed beneath his breath. Damn it this flying brat. Sure, he had intended to use the girl as leverage, but for heavens sake, not yet!
Shoots ringed through the air and with a frustrated cry he stood up and strode to the door. In this moment it knocked and Hook throw the wooden entrance open. Smee stood before him.
“It’s Pan, Cap’n!”
“I know. I am not deaf!” he snapped and looked outside, ignoring the surprised gaze of his boatswain at his nearly unclothed state.
Wendy saw after him, her pulse quickened. There it was: her chance of escaping. She rolled of the bed and stood on unsteady legs, gathering the ripped nightgown around her body. On silent toes she tipped to the windows, her look never leaving the silhouette in the entrance. With shaking fingers she felt for the handle of the window behind her and opened it as silent as possible.
“Devil and hell! Sixty trained men with pistols and no one is able to hit this flying pest?” Hooks voice sounded more than angry.
Wendy gulped and climbed on the windowsill. Beneath her the warm, blue waves of the sea rolled against the ship, glistening in the last beams of the sun. Only three hundred meters away laid Neverland, the jungle nearly dark by now.
Hook saw Peter fly straight into the skies, escaping once again the bullets. “Stay back this night, boy!” he growled. “This is only between me and our sweet storyteller!” He sensed Smees eyes and met them with defiance. “I don’t want to be interrupted again in the next hours and...” He had turned back and stared at the small form on one of his windowsills, the soft breeze of the evening-wind let the silk of the nightgown flatter. He was shocked as he saw what the girl intended to do. “NO!” He stormed through his quarter, trying to reach her in time.
Wendy heard his shouter and jumped. She was a good swimmer and Peter was out there. He would take her to safety, away from this man and the strange dangers he represented. The warm air touched her skin, found its way through the silk and then two slim arms wrapped around her, hold her with surprisingly strength.
“Its me!” she heard the familiar voice at her ear at met the triumph smile of Peter Pan, his brilliant blue eyes shining in mischief and joy. “Hold on, I take you to our hide-out.”
Wendy shook her head. “Please, to one of the lakes first.”
The boy shrugged his shoulders. “No problem. Had it been so dirty on Hooks ship?” he joked and the not so little girl anymore bit her lips. “Its evening and I have to wash”, she answered lamely.
Peter grimaced. “What ever my lady whishes!”
Closing her eyes Wendy tried to banish the still lingering feelings in her body and the scent of Hook in her nose and mouth. But the pirate-captain had wakened something in her, something, that was still hungry, still wanted to know more and she feared that the boy, she loved, couldn’t give her the answers and satisfactions she had started to long for.

Hook looked after the both forms, which disappeared in the green roof of Neverland’s forests. “How dare you to leave me now!” he whispered hoarsely, his desire pulsing merciless in his veins. He had to have her. He would find no peace until he had made this damned little vixen his own. He wanted to burry himself deep in her hot body, to find release in this slender arms and to kiss this soft pouting lips again. He would find her and if he had to turn every cursed stone and tree on this blasted island.
She liked the fairies, so he would watch them. She liked flowers, so he would observing the clearing. And over all she was a girl. She would like to bath and so he would seeking out every lake in Neverland till he had find her, taken her with him and showed her exactly what it meant to let a man in such a aroused state behind.
A bath! This was the only thing what would help him now. A cold bath, of course, and a bottle of rum to wash down her scent, which would otherwise drove him mad in the lonely night that would come.
“You will be mine, Wendy Darling. And if it is last thing on earth I will do!”

TBC
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In the swirl of passion