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Beautiful Girl	By : cravache Category: M through R > Peter Pan > Het Views: 18060 -:- 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-Beautiful Girl
- 1
Fingertips, soft and warm, touch her rosy lips.

Wendy opens her eyes, roused from sleep. She gasps.

“Shh.” Those fingertips press against her mouth firmly, shushing her. “Shh.”

The room is dark. The moon filters weak, pale light through the bedroom window, which is open. It is an eerie, ethereal glow. The curtains flutter softly against the cold night breeze.

The bed creaks quietly as he climbs on to it. Wendy can’t see his face. All she can see is a shadow, a silhouette, as he leans over her. She can never see his face when he comes to her bed at night; the darkness always shrouds it, like a black mask.

Wendy glances quickly to her right. She can see the outline of her brothers under their blankets, asleep and oblivious. They are breathing heavily, rhythmically. Michael and John never wake when he comes to her. They don’t know what happens in their room when they sleep.

“Shh,” he whispers one more time before he slowly takes his finger away from her lips.

His hand curls into the edge of her blankets and he draws them back. Cool air wafts over her chest and stomach through her nightgown. Her nipples swirl and harden from the cold and her skin breaks out into goose bumps.

Wendy feels his palm on her stomach. It is warm and firm. She shivers and swallows thickly. She parts her lips to speak. “I—“

“Shh!” He never lets her speak. He doesn’t want the boys waking up. He doesn’t want anyone in the house knowing he is there.

His hand slowly moves down her stomach, down to her thigh and he balls the fabric of her nightgown in his fist and slowly, slowly draws it up.

Her breath increases. Wendy swallows again. She can feel the icy night air prickling her skin.

He continues to push her gown up; over her stomach, up over her petite, youthful breasts.

Wendy hears him moan softly. He lowers a hand over her left breast and squeezes it gently. She gasps again.

The bed makes a soft squeak as he nudges her legs apart and kneels between them. She knows what is coming; she knows and she is scared. Her heartbeat picks up in speed as she looks up at him, trying to see his face.

Slowly, he runs his palm from her breast down over her stomach. He keeps moving down, down, until his fingers touch her there. She is so young; there is not one hair to be found between her legs. His fingers slide between her folds, parting her lips, and he circles his fingertip on her clitoris.

Wendy whimpers and curls her hands over the edges of the mattress. She grips it until her knuckles are white. Her breath increases; quick, rapid breaths. Stop! she wants to protest. Stop it, you’re scaring me! She never does, though. She is too ashamed of what happens and would hate for her brothers to wake up and see what he does to her.

He continues to touch her there, circling slowly, firmly. He can see Wendy’s face in the dim light from the window. Her brows are knitting together. She is biting her lower lip. She looks terrified.

His cock throbs. She is such a beautiful girl.

“I-“

“Shh!” He quickly closes his other hand over her mouth. “Shh.”

Wendy is trembling. She whimpers into his palm as he slowly slides his fingers down further, curving one into her entrance. His finger feels thick as he works it into her; in, out, in, out.

She writhes on the bed, sweat breaking out on her face. She wants to speak, to tell him to stop.

He draws his fingers out slowly and lowers himself down on to her. He is naked; he is always naked when he comes to her bed. His body is hot against her clammy skin. “Shh,” he whispers once more, clamping her mouth tightly with his palm as he pushes his prick into her.

Wendy lets out a muffled shriek. She arches her back, struggling weakly against his invasion. He is big, much bigger than his fingers. She wants to tell him, Stop it, it hurts! You’re hurting me! But she doesn’t.

He moves inside her. He isn’t going to last long; he never does. She is so tight, just like a little girl. The bed continues to creak softly, rhythmically, as he slides in and out.

Tears form in Wendy’s eyes. She squeezes them shut and turns her head away, weeping softly into his hand. It burns, the way his length stretches her, ploughs in again and again.

She hears him grunt softly and he presses his forehead against her shoulder. His body stiffens and she lets out another quiet, muffled cry as his prick thickens within her.

He comes. His breath is ragged and erratic, hot and sultry against her skin. Tears roll down her cheeks. He thrusts into her until he is spent, slumping on her.

Silence. Wendy opens her eyes slowly and peers into the darkness, trying with all her might not to sob out loud. She winces as he moves back, slipping out of her body and pushing himself off her.

The bed groans quietly as he rises from it. Wendy dashes her hand to her face and wipes her tears away. She sees his silhouette as he bends down to retrieve his dressing gown off the floor. He slides his arms into the woollen garment and ties the gown together at his waist.

Another tear rolls down her cheek. “Father-“

“Shh!” He quickly reaches out and strokes her hair, gazing down at her. “You don’t want to wake your brothers,” he says softly. He grasps the hem of her nightgown and tugs it down gently, covering her shivering body. He bends down and presses a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.” Clutching her blankets, he pulls it up, tucking it over her chest and arms and then smooths her hair back tenderly one more time. “My precious Wendy,” he whispers. “Such a beautiful girl.”

Wendy nods, wiping another tear away. He strokes her cheek with the back of his knuckles before stepping back from her. She rolls on to her side as he tiptoes to the door, slipping out silently.

She clutches her pillow and begins to silently cry.
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Beautiful Girl