Standard Disclaimer Time. I do not own Once Upon A time, or the characters here in. No do I make any money off of this story. It is done purely for entertainment purposes.
-Michelle
They say grief can lead you to do some crazy, terrible things. That it can make you turn against your friends and your family, make you hurt them, make you hurt yourself. I have had first hand experience with such destructive emotion, both as the one experiencing it, and as the one to feel the direct backlash of another person's grief. I've been threatened, chased, actually been struck, looked my death right in the eyes and it's still nothing close to what I can blame my own actions on. Because it's not grief that I am feeling, and it's not love either. It's something else, something that's gone all twisted in my head, and it's so wrong that it feels right, the fit and feel of him against me making me crazed. I'm half out of my mind with him, with the things he's making me feel, the lust and the sensations, the pleasurable grind of his leather against the thin lace of my panties as I hang trapped between him and the wall.
The wall at my back, and the pirate pressing me into it, can't stop the sensation I have of falling. I've lost touch with the only grounding force I've ever truly known, caught in an endless free fall that has my thighs squeezing in tighter around him, my fingers clutching at his back. But I can't stop my descent into this downward spiral. I don't even truly make the attempt to try. I like what I'm feeling, even as it leaves me ashamed, and I hate myself for being so weak and so quick to give in, and yet I wouldn't trade this moment for all of the world.
Because the world can't give me what he makes me feel, this lust that is mad beyond all reason, and the pleasure that goes hand in hand in it's wake. Even as I know regret and shame will color me once I am the slightest bit rational, I keep coming back for more. Maybe I always will. For the sexual thrill of being with a man who'd just as soon as see me dead, for the danger of him, for the threat to my happiness that he represents, and even for the fear of what it would mean should this tryst ever be discovered. Hook's not the only danger in my life, and though I've sworn up and down that Rumple would never hurt me, a part of me fears it for the lie that it might just be.
Even that one niggling worry, that fear of the uncertain, cannot put a damper on the excitement coursing through me. He doesn't even have to touch me for I've already melted from just one look into those dark blue eyes. Hook has a way of looking at a woman, a blatant predatory hunger in his gaze, the blue gleaming with every filthy thought and impure desire he has ever had for her. And it's all been focused on me for the last ten minutes, his mask of indifference discarded the instant the Charmings and their daughter had walked out of the shop.
The Charmings would have never left Hook here with me if they had had the slightest inkling of what would happened. But both he and I have played our parts to perfection, our mutual dislike giving no reason for anyone to suspect otherwise. I'm nothing more than his one time victim, a job he's been tasked with to make things rights. Just another hoop for him to jump through in the vain hope he will prove worthy of their daughter, Emma Swan. I think of her now, and my kiss becomes vicious, an emotion that I have no right to coloring my mood. Jealousy should have no designs on what this is, and yet I WANT to keep him. If only to keep on feeling this way, this odd mix of sexual thrill and danger a drug like no other.
HE'S the one that is like no other, unique in the danger, in the way that he makes me feel. No other man has looked at me in the way that Hook has, like he both wants to kill me and fuck me at the same time. He doesn't look at me like an object to be cherished, and Hook's not afraid of the repercussions of getting his hands dirty. He might even welcome Rumple killing him for this, might actively laugh in his face, and I know something is twisted inside of him, the nursed grief of three hundred years making Hook this way. It's a recipe for disaster that has been boiling for just short of forever, bubbling over from the first instant I had laid eyes on the pirate back in the Queen's tower.
Even then I had been attracted to him, having spied that dangerous gleam in his eyes that I hadn't yet been capable of understanding his reason for. I had been his for the taking, then, now, and all the times in between. Each time has been better than the last, each time all wild and frantic energy, and each time I've made a liar out of myself by swearing it would be the last. Even now I know I won't be able to stay away from him, and that he won't be able to resist me when I come calling. He's as helpless to this feeling as I am, to the pleasure he gets out of using me, to the knowledge that he is getting over on Rumpelstiltskin every time Hook sinks his cock into my body.
Just thinking about that moment makes things deep inside me twist, my passage tightening in anticipation for what it wants to receive. My breathing already ragged, sharpened even further, my voice distorted to something that isn't me.
"Stop teasing me." I say in an odd mix of beg and demand.
A low masculine chuckle rasps out of him, Hook lifting up from where his lips has been roughly mouthing my throat, to stare into my eyes. What he sees there makes him smile, Hook approving of the damn near desperate gleam in them.
"We've got time." He says to me, and I manage to shake my head no. I can feel some of the wavy curls of my hair brushing the tops of my shoulders, but most of it remains trapped between my back and the wall. It's with the wall's help that Hook supports me so effortlessly, as though my weight is a burden he can gladly shoulder all day. Even when I start to wiggle and squirm, a half hearted protest issuing pass my lips in response to what he now says. "We've got all the time in the world."
"That's not true." I say. "The Charmings..."
"Won't be back for a while. Too busy hunting that witch."
That witch he mentions, is an all but unknown factor, neither her reasons nor her identity revealed to us. It was that witch who was the reason why the Charmings had left Hook here alone with me. There was a very real chance of her danger, the fact that the witch might possibly be hunting me. It was that possible threat that had led the Charming family to feel certain that I was in need of some sort of real protection. Though just what they thought the pirate could do against magic, I'll never know, but then I can't deny the perks of having Hook here with me.
One perk in particular is pressed between my thighs, the sensation it grinds into me making it difficult to truly focus on anything else. My thoughts begin to scatter, my own hips moving with a purpose, as I start a slow, needy dance that can't quite possibly satisfy me the way that I need.
"Please." I am whimpering over and over, giving tiny moist kisses up and down the length of his jaw. I'm not expecting that laugh, but the pure masculine satisfaction sends a shot of liquid heat straight through me.
"Quite a change from the woman who claimed to not want to be left alone with me." I hear Hook say. "But then there is something to be said about a lady who protests too much." I keep on nibbling my lips into his skin, the scratch of the scruff there a sensation I don't mind. "What would they say, what would they think, to see you like this now?"
"I don't care about that, about them." I say, breathing in and growing more intoxicated by his scent.
"And yet you want me to hurry." He points out, and I do a slow shrug. I breathe his name into his ear, bite down and pull on the lobe of it, feeling Hook shudder against me in response.
"Hurry." I say. "Before someone comes. Before they..."
"Before they see?" He interrupts, and gives a sharp grin. I don't bother to correct him, don't bother to state my fear of someone arriving to stop us before this can go any further. Instead I'm merely moaning, helpless as he touches his forehead to mine, and focuses that hungry, glittering stare into my eyes. "A fine idea."
The shock of his words can't jolt me out of my desire, even as I start in place, again trying to squirm free. "No." I say, but it is half hearted at best. "You-we can't. The Charmings, the witch, even Rumpelstiltskin might..."
"Better and better." Hook grins in a cold manner. A thrill goes through me as the danger that I've never forgotten that Hook represents, that the pirate puts me in, shows clearly in his eyes. I should be screaming, should be shoving him away, instead I am melting, turning to a puddle before him at the thought of Rumpelstiltskin catching us. I don't really want to be caught, but the chance of it? Just the idea excites me, in a way its reality wouldn't, the danger the ultimate in aphrodisiacs, and Hook's tipping it over, giving me a direct hit to my veins that has me moaning, writhing against him as the pirate tears off the flimsy scrap of lace that passes for my panties.
I don't know how or when Hook got his pants open, but he's thrusting inside me, the invasion hard and sudden and just how I had wanted him. I immediately tighten around him, my body convulsing, and Hook's cursing, holding himself still inside me as I climax all around him. My legs that had been dangling, now lock behind him, my fingertips digging into his back as I pant and sob and scream his name. But it's not over, not by a long shot, the pirate actually shaking, weathering through the worst of my climax before he begins to move.
It's too soon, my toes curling. I gasp and cry out, every inch of him moving inside me, sending waves of further pleasure spiraling through me. I'm wetter than I've ever been, soaked from the inside out, and he's wringing out every last drop of pleasure my body can give, Hook relentless and pounding, his lips buried in the crook of my shoulder. Faintly I hear him, the pirate muttering things, dark, delicious imagery filling my head with the words that Hook speaks. I so badly want this, so desperately want him, and it's not enough to have him inside me, I need to feel the hot gush of his warmth spilling inside me.
It is crazy, we are both insane, having taken more than enough risks without going any further. But just as Hook pushes the boundaries, so do I, wanting, needing to feel him come inside me. My legs locked so firmly around him, don't give an inch when he tries to pull back. I can hear him cursing, warning me of the repercussions of such foolishness but I don't care. And then the sound of someone trying to open the pawn shop's front door, jars me back to reality. Suddenly I can't get away fast enough, limp legs letting go, hands pushing at Hook to get him away from me. He looks me in the eyes, and this time I go completely cold, seeing that devilish gleam, and that equally merciless smile. I'm his to do with as completely as he wants, and it seems the pirate cares more about his revenge than the repercussions, pumping furiously in me, his seed erupting forth the instant the front door opens completely.
I moan a helpless no, even as my own body betrays me, coming just as hard, just as fast as before. I'm lost, loving and hating this, hating him, and there's the sound of something-someone falling, and neither one of us is looking, too busy riding this out to it's bitter sweet end.
To Be Continued...?
So..*twiddles thumbs* Okay this is...okay I haven't written anything to completion since the end of AUGUST. I have been going crazy with my inability to write...Lord knows I've tried. So this is part of a writing exercise to get me back into writing. I do intend to continue this, though I am hoping now that I got this out of my system I could hopefully work on one of my other existing fics..
Basically, this is an idea I thought of like two or three weeks ago. Though I couldn't figure out how to start it. I think I've been experiencing fic burn out...like major fic burnt out. Tonight while watching the Belle Anna episode, the opening lines came to me, and wham! What you just read is the end result.
Side note, not completely related to said fic...at least not yet. I have been dying to write something with Hook and handcuffs all week! XD
Oh, so this season three based. The idea came to me when I was thinking about how my other season three one shot, about a review I got. The reviewer had wished for the smutless fluff that didn't happen in that other oneshot...but unfortunately I still didn't end up with fluff or a lack of smut in this one either. But I am happy, even if it's a little dark.
-Michelle