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By Hook or By Crook	By : OktoberBlack Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 14973 -:- 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.

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Disclaimer: Not my characters (except for the ones that are). Not making any money off of them. Wish I were, never going to be. Don’t sue me, please.

I know that for every hundred hits or so, I might get one review, but please, for the love of all you hold holy, at least rate the darn thing! I mean, come on. Geez. *kicks at ground with toe of boot*

By Hook or By Crook (for want of a better name)

Chapter Six: Enough lemons to make lemonade (more or less)

We soaked in the hot water for about an hour. I added more hot water when Hook required it. Finally, it was time to wash and he demanded I wash his hair for him. I poured some shampoo onto my palm with trepidation, concerned with what I might find lurking in his locks, but actually, it wasn’t that bad an ordeal—he had really nice hair. I gave him a thorough shampooing and he submerged to rinse off, the water going all greasy and soapy.

“How long has it been since you’ve washed your hair?” I asked as I shampooed my own hair.
“I take a bath whenever I’m in port,” he said.
“And how long between baths?”
“Probably at least a month,” he said, after a moment of thought. “Are you insinuating something?”
“I wash daily,” I said, and submerged to rinse off. Then I soaped up again.
“There is such a thing as too much cleanliness,” he said, standing up to wash his body. He made a wave in the tub and I got a mouthful of dirty water. I spluttered and he laughed. He sat back down to rinse off.
“There isn’t such a thing as too much cleanliness,” I replied testily. Then I washed my body carefully as he got out of the tub. He dried off with a huge towel and put on a robe. I stepped out and dried off, but there wasn’t a robe for me. “What am I going to wear?” I asked, but he’d already stepped out of the bathroom.

He’d rung for the barber, as it turned out, who showed up shortly to shave him and trim his moustache and beard. I wrapped myself in my towel and stayed in the bathroom. How I wished for a toothbrush! Hopeful, I rummaged in the drawers. Luck was with me! In the third drawer down, I found two paper wrapped toothbrushes and a tube of some kind of herbal toothpaste. I brushed my teeth gratefully, despite the nasty taste of the toothpaste. It tasted like… some kind of dried mushroom mixed with basil and a bit of lemon. I put the tube away with a sigh. What was wrong with good old mint? I peered around the edge of the bathroom door, but the barber was still busy with Hook, so I sat back down on the closed toilet and waited.

When the barber had left, I emerged from the bathroom only to find the hotel had sent up a high tea. Hook had already settled in with a cup of tea and a scone, some papers in his hand. He hadn’t bothered to put his hook back on.
“Tea?” he asked. He gestured to the seat across from him.
“Really?”
“No, actually. Now that I’ve fulfilled your requirements, you will have to fulfill mine,” he said, and opened his robe. “Nothing I like more after a bath than… what did you call it? Head?”
“Of course,” I said ruefully. I grabbed a pillow from a nearby chair and flung it down at his feet. Then I knelt down between his legs, my hands on his thighs. His cock was flaccid, nestled in his curly dark pubic hair and I eyed it suspiciously.
“Well? If you want something to eat, you’d better get to work,” he said. He casually sipped his tea.

I took a deep breath and reached for his cock. He grew hard almost as soon as I touched him. I slid my hand along his length, and he sighed, his eyes closed. I took him into my mouth; my lips slid slowly up and down his shaft, my tongue slipping around the tip of his penis. I used my hand to slide his foreskin down so I had better access to the mushroom shaped head of his cock. He was now fully erect and almost too big for me to take into my mouth. I sucked him in as far as I could, making love to his penis to the best of my ability. The bath salts he’d insisted we use gave him an almost lavender taste, and I smothered the giggle that rose to my throat when I considered how femme that made him seem. I glanced up at his face; he seemed beatifically happy. He held my head with his hand, his hips coming off the chair as he tried to drive his cock deeper into my mouth. Finally, he came with a shudder and I swallowed his come, albeit unwillingly. He smiled at me, suddenly much more relaxed, and gestured to the teapot. “Tea?” I got up off my knees and sat down opposite him.
“I guess that was good enough,” I said, as I poured myself a cup of tea and took a buttered scone.
“Lovely, my dear. You have a talented mouth—and not just for civil conversation,” he said. He finished his tea before he did his robe back up.
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered into my teacup. I had to find a way out of there and fast. Having to get on my knees just to be able to eat and drink wasn’t a particularly self-esteem building activity.

The other problem, of course, was that I didn’t have anything to do. I couldn’t go outside, I had nothing to read or do and I was incredibly bored. I had the feeling in Hook’s world women were meant to be seen and not heard—unless you wanted head, of course, at which point it was okay for the woman to be at least a bit drooly sounding. I ghosted around the room for a while. I peered into everything and thoroughly checked out the bedroom Hook had assigned to me. And I had to wear the towel from my bath the whole time as well because the dressmaker wasn’t coming until after supper.

Hook, meanwhile, had finished his afternoon tea and had dressed to go out. He was buckling on his guns and sword when I came back into the main room.
“You will not leave this room while I’m gone,” he said. He locked the balcony door and pocketed the key. “There will be a guard on the front door of the suite, in case you feel you need something that isn’t in the room. I will return in time for supper.” He screwed on his hook as he spoke; I noticed a bit of dried blood on the edge of the weapon, but didn’t mention it.
“Can I have a cigarette?” I asked, as he gathered some papers and placed them in an inner pocket.
“When did I say you could have a cigarette?” he replied, patronizingly.
“After supper,” I responded. I rolled my eyes.
“Correct. I’m so glad you’re actually listening,” he said with a chuckle. “Now be a good girl and behave while I’m gone.” He slapped me on the bottom, quite hard actually, and then left the suite. I could hear the key in the lock before he walked away down the hall. Great.

I picked up the robe he’d discarded and put it on—at least I could wear something other than a towel around the room. I rattled the door of the balcony, but it was locked tight. None of the windows opened and the furniture was too heavy for me to lift properly to break one. Besides, the guard would certainly hear if I broke a window and I’d never get away without shoes. I suddenly felt exhausted, like I’d been on edge all day. I dragged myself to my room and threw myself on my bed. The room was incredibly warm and humid, so I lay on top of the bedspread and was soon asleep.

When I awakened, the room was dark; night had fallen. Someone moved around in the main room. I assumed it was Hook, so I didn’t bother to get up. I lay on the bed, and wished fervently I was at home with my three cats nudging me to feed them, a half-finished manuscript on my computer screen. My bedroom door opened and Hook entered the room. He held a candle in a pewter holder with his hook. The candle cast an eerie light in the room. He wore his trousers, shirt, and boots. He sat on the edge of the bed, obviously assuming I was still asleep, and he put the candle down on the bedside table. He sat and watched me for a while—I watched him back through slit eyes. Then he reached out for me. His hook lightly pushed the robe from my thighs. He undid the sash at my waist and pushed the robe out of the way, exposing my nude body to the candlelight. What was he up to? He looked at me some more—maybe he wanted to see my tattoos? I finally figured it out when he laid his good hand on my pubis; his fingers cupped my groin lightly. His touch was electric and I shivered under his fingers. He shifted slightly on the bed and pushed my legs apart. His hook was cold against my thigh and I opened my eyes to look at him. He narrowed his eyes at me.

“Shhhh,” was all he said, as he bent to kiss my inner thighs. His kiss was gentle and his beard was scratchy against my skin, but I kept quiet. The fingers of his good left hand spread my labia and he kissed my clit softly. A thrill ran through me. He slid his tongue down and around my clit before he began to lick it lightly with little cat licks. I could feel his long hair against my thighs and stomach, and the cold metal of his hook flat against my stomach made me want to squirm away from him, but I stayed put. He sucked my clit between his lips and flicked at it with the tip of his tongue. I could feel myself grow wet as my orgasm approached. He could feel it too, and he slid one of his fingers inside me. My slick wetness made him sigh around my clit as he licked and kissed and sucked me to orgasm. I came with a gasp and he chuckled as my hips came off the bed, my pussy pressed against his mouth. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and thrust another finger into me, finger-fucking me slowly as he watched me come down from my orgasmic high. Then he removed his fingers so he could undo his trousers. He didn’t even take them off, but just freed his erect cock from the front of his trousers and climbed between my legs. I put a hand on his stomach and he looked at me, his eyes narrowed in anger.

“No,” I said, “let me.”
“What do you mean?” he hissed. I pushed him on to his back and he grinned with sudden understanding. “Ah. Very well.” I shrugged out of the robe and straddled him, nude, holding his erect cock with one hand. Then I slowly impaled myself on him. He hissed with pleasure as my tight pussy slid down his hard cock. I held him there inside of me for a long moment, feeling his huge cock stretch me so beautifully. Then I began to move up and down on him. His good hand went to my hip as he grasped me tightly. His hook slid down my other leg and I stopped when I felt the point of it against my skin.
“You’re going to have to move that above your head,” I said. “I don’t think it would be fair to pierce me in the middle of this.”
“As you wish,” he replied. He put his right arm over his head and hooked himself onto the bedpost. “Better?”
“Much,” I agreed, and began my slow, lovely motion on top of him once again. We fucked for a long time before he finally came. I came a couple of times on top of him, thrashing through my orgasms. He seemed to enjoy the pleasure I took in the act and I know I certainly did. When it was all over, I rolled off of him and onto my back. He idly sucked on one of my nipples as we recovered from our sexual activity and I held his head to me. There was a knock at the door. Hook didn’t move, but continued to suckle my nipple. His lips made my head swim with a sensation that started in my breast and ran down between my thighs, making me almost come yet again. The knock was more insistent. He ignored it and began to suck on my other nipple. Finally, the knock became a pounding and Hook hissed with irritation. He swung his legs off the bed and tucked his penis back into his trousers, doing up his buttons with his good hand as he approached the locked door to the suite.

“What is so damn important?!” he exclaimed as he threw the door open. I put on the robe and stood to watch him from my bedroom door. He brandished his hook at the intruder and then lowered it irritably. “Supper. Of course.” The valet and two waiters rolled supper into the room on three carts, laying out a sumptuous table in the main room. The valet lit all the lamps in the room before he withdrew. “Supper,” he said. He indicated the table with his hook.
“Looks like it,” I replied, and sat in the chair he’d pulled out for me. I watched him dive into his meal with the same gusto he’d displayed during sex and considered what I knew about him. Not much, as it turned out. One moment he was all pirate—cruel, avaricious, and domineering. The next, he was giving me orgasms and pulling out my chair for me. I reached for my glass of wine, more confused about my role in this world than I had been when I’d first been captured.
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By Hook or By Crook