Author's Note: This story was born from watching 2x09 and the sizzling chemistry between Hook and Regina. It's deliberately vague and open-ended. I wanted it to be open to interpretation. This is my first time writing smut, so be understanding. Many thanks to lissyjazz85, who convinced me that it was worth posting. I do not own Once, although I wish I owned Regina. Sigh. Can't always get what you want. Now that we have that out of the way, please enjoy, and review! I'd love to know what you all thought, and how you took it!
No
No.
When you asked me for your hook, that is what I told you. And that is how it began.
No.
When you would climb in through my window, soundless as the night. You would stand in my bedchamber, observing the reaction this evoked in me. I would stir slowly in my bed, accustomed to our rendezvous but never quite used to the intrusion. I would lift myself slowly to my elbows, watching as you sauntered over to my bed.
No.
When you would take my hand gently between yours and raise it slowly to your lips, kissing it reverently. Your eyes would meet mine, chocolate brown reflected in ice blue, as you raised me to my feet.
No.
When you would wrap your arms around my waist, holding me as I leaned back into strong hands. You would give me a seductive smirk, one that both you and I know you have given to hundreds of women before me, and will give to hundreds since. All I could do is smile weakly back.
No.
When you would give me a lascivious wink that has melted stronger women than me. My knees would buckle as you lowered your head to my ear and whispered that I was your saucy lass.
No.
When you would tilt my chin up, your lips descending to mine. Warm lips would meet full ones for a second before yielding, discovering a new world to be explored. Tongues danced a torrid tango, the routine never choreographed, but always familiar.
No.
When we would finally tire of kissing and break apart reluctantly, your forehead resting on mine, and your breath playing on my cheek. You would pull your body flush to mine, closing any distance that may have been between us. The result of our fervent efforts would pool in my undergarments and tighten your pants, a fact that did not escape your attention.
No.
When you would begin to slide the straps of my nightgown down my arms, the smooth silk agonizing on my heated skin. Every inch of smooth flesh you uncovered, you then proceeded to kiss softly, worshipping my body with your lips. Finally, I was bare before you, exposed, vulnerable, the way I knew you wanted me.
No.
When I would bring my hands to your shirt, unbuttoning every button with sure hands, revealing a body made hard by labor. Your torso was marred by scars that tell a thousand tales, weaving an intricate pattern.
No.
When your pants would crumple to the floor, and we were finally divested of all clothing. Now, nothing would impede you from fulfilling your mission.
No.
When hands would roam greedily over bared bodies, free to follow every whim, no holds barred. Every inch is like new territory won, rediscovered, conquered yet again.
No.
When you would run your hands down from my neck, and leave them to rest where you most wanted them. You would place them on my chest gently, at first, then more roughly, groping, squeezing, almost painfully, claiming it for your own. You would trace senseless patterns around a pebbled target, avoiding it, prolonging my wait for satisfaction. Finally, lips would replace hands, and a moan would be torn from my mouth as warm wetness enveloped my now achingly hard peaks. Teeth replaced tongue, nipping tentatively at first, then more insistently, knowing how I enjoyed a little pain mixed in with my pleasure.
No.
When your hands would dip lower, stopping at my hipbones. They have recently hollowed, but you don't seem to notice, or care. Thumbs rubbed the newly formed cavities, the reason behind them never striking you, and you leer appreciatively before moving lower.
No.
When I would bring my hands shakily to where you wanted them most. I would run them up, and down, up, and down, until your head would tilt back and you'd sigh.
No.
When mouth would replace hands, as I fought back the tears stinging bitterly in my eyes. I would hurry, hoping, praying, it would be over soon. One…two…three more…and you've finished. I gulp harshly, then lie down on my bed, awaiting what I know comes next.
No.
When you whisper "Your turn, love" with a smirk as you lower yourself, lining up with the center of my body. One quick breath against my heat is all it takes to elicit a desperate gasp, as I rock forward, begging for more contact. You, inevitably, deny it, pulling away with an evil smile.
No.
When you finally indulge my wishes, stroking through copious wetness with nimble fingers before taking the plunge. Three fingers fill and stretch me as they coax out cry after cry, perfectly synchronized with your thrusts. On every outward stroke, your fingers crook up to hit that spot that makes my toes curl in absolute pleasure.
No.
When the pressure building deep inside my core finally explodes in a multitude of colors, stars spotting my vision as I fall over the edge of ecstasy. A sharp scream tears from my throat as my rapid breathing slows. I look at you wide eyed, but you are already gone from your place, moving on to the next part of our affair.
No.
When you finally do what you have been fiercely craving all evening and bury yourself in me without any further preamble. The physical pain this causes pales in comparison to the emotional, but I grit my teeth and focus on the sensations, which assault every nerve ending in my body. Those, I have to admit, are quite pleasurable.
No.
When you take me over the top with you, against my will. I swore I would not enjoy it, but I am powerless against your art of seduction. You do not hold me in your arms as we crash from the high. For some reason, this bothers me, though I have learned to expect it by now.
No.
When you take what you desire from me time and time again. Your appetite is insatiable. Finally, after so many times I have lost count, you leave my spent exhausted shell and roll out of the bed, seeking out your clothing before you depart from my bedchamber.
No.
When I just stare up at the ceiling during this display, listing all of the reasons this is wrong. This is an insult to the memories of our true loves, an insult to our positions, an insult to our dignities most of all. Funny, you don't seem to see it that way. You use me to satisfy your carnal need, not giving one thought to the irreparable psychological damage this will incur in me. But I use you the same as you do. Your thoughtless acts fuel my self-loathing, provide ammunition for the roaring beast inside which devours my soul .I have fallen further and further down, reaching new depths of darkness every next time, growing weaker and weaker. But this time is different. This time, I am stronger. Before, I could not even dream of fighting, but tonight it is what I must do.
No.
When you have finally composed yourself and are preparing to climb out my window and embark stealthily until the next time. All of these thoughts chase one another in my head as I finally gather the courage to speak.
"We can't keep doing this anymore."
"No."
Fin