A/N-Sorry about leaving everybody hanging! But doesn't that jsut make it more yummy?-
Was this really what he had intended all along? he thought as he kissed the smooth skin of her throat, his fingers tracing a timeless pattern wherever they touched.
Yes. Of course it was.
Wasn't he a ruthless pirate, more feared than any other? Why even his own mother had been afraid of him.
He was cold and black-hearted and would stop at nothing to have his revenge on Peter Pan...
So why was he finding it so difficult to seduce this one woman?
She sighed under his touch, her eyes closed, her lips parted. Maybe...if he kissed her again, more passionately, it would spark a new fire.
He returned his lips to hers, and practically swallowed her with his intent. Wendy made a small noise of either disapproval or passion, he couldn't tell which, as she was both frowning and returning his kiss, her small hands wound in his hair.
He could feel the shape of her beneath him. He had at least succeeded in feeding her to the point where she was as rounded and soft as a woman should be. That thought reminded him though, that she was here only because he had tricked her.
Why should that matter? He was afraid that he knew the reason it mattered, and that thought sent a wave of cold fear through the boldest pirate in the world.
With a groan, that sounded very much like " Oh, I can't..." to Wendy, he slid from the bed to sit on the floor, his eyes closed and his fist clutched to his chest.
Wendy, jerked from her passive reverie, startled by his odd behavior. Her confusion turned to worry as she saw him head bent, clutching his heart in such a manner. Without an ounce of grace, she tumbled from the bed and landed beside him.
" What is the matter?" she cried, laying a hand on his wrist. He found that looking up into her worried blue eyes, so close he could see the patterns on the iris...was not helping to ease his new fear.
" Please, James, tell, me what is wrong?" she pleaded, trying to discern some sign of a malady or wound.
" I believe I am having an attack." he said with a quivery laugh.
" An attack? What of? What do you need? Should we find a doctor?" her sincerity and nearness were charming enough that even in his present state of confusion, he could appreciate her. Perhaps, he would remember this later as a trick.
It wasn't a trick now though. He was about to speak, when a new pang shot through his heart.
Wendy had done a very cruel thing to him. It was simple and she did it without thinking, pressing her lips gently to his forehead to feel if he were feverish. It was something she had seen someone along time ago do...she couldn't remember who. She was too preoccupied to think too hard about where she had learned the gesture.
Hook gave another groan, clutching his chest tighter.
" It is your heart?" she cried, paling suddenly. She was no doubt believing now that he was practically invalid. This helped tweak his pride some and he waved a hand nonchalantly.
" I do not think it is any thing fatal.'' he said.
" But don't you want to be certain?" she asked, frowning.
" Oh...I think I know what it is." he said. He had a pretty damn good idea.
" An attack of the heart?" she asked.
Damn her. She was close enough that he could smell that strange perfume that she seemed to be made of. Her hair brushed against his neck.
" I think it is more akin to indigestion..." he murmured, with a bitter laugh.
" Perhaps we should send for a doctor...would you like me to find Mr. Smee? " in her concern, she was not thinking of the shame she should feel, at having any one come into her cabin to attend Hook, who was lying half naked on her floor.
He laughed, deep and resonant.
" My dear, I don't think any physician or apothecary can cure my illness." he took her hand. " In fact I think that if time does not heal it...it will be permanent."
Her eyes widened, not from understanding but from something else...care, perhaps?
" What is it?" she whispered.
He took her hand and lay it against his heart, where the beat could be felt in her palm. He almost regretted it. The feeling was too good, and when he drew his hand away, she kept hers there.
" That is a wounded heart." he said
" Wounded how?" she asked, her fingertips beginning a light caress.
" Wounded by a foreign disease it thought it was immune to. " he said.
She did not draw away. In fact, she had that look in her eyes again, the spark of soft fire she had before she would impulsively kiss him. He hurried on before she decided to taste for a fever. If she kissed him now, he would not be able to finish what he was rehearsing in his mind.
" Have you any idea of the cause of this stroke?" he asked, softly. Her lips were so close.
" No...what is it? " she asked.
" You." he said.
" Me? What have I done?" she asked, pulling back from him.
" You? You have done the worst thing a woman could possibly ever do to a man!" he said.
" I haven't done anything!" she cried, trying to stand. He held her arm tightly.
" Oh yes you have! "
She glared at him defiantly, her face tight with indignation. She did not appreciate someone accusing her of crimes she had not committed. And worse than that was the fact that she was not even sure if he were truly accusing her, or if it were another of his wicked tricks.
" Just what is it I am guilty of having done? Besides keeping my word, and always doing as I was told...and.. and..." she trailed off. He was looking at her with a mixture of amusement and frustration.
" Yes, yes. Those things. And everything you do. It is all responsible."
" Responsible for what?"
" Heavens girl! Do you have to be so innocent? I am trying to confess to love and you..." he stopped.
She stopped.
A silence filled the room, louder than their words had been. Had he really just spoken that?
Wendy felt as though she had just drunk a bottle of rum straight down. She burned from head to toe, and was struck suddenly by an insane giddiness.
Hook felt as though he had just uttered a sacrilege...yet, at the moment it was torn from his lips, his heart ceased to ache, and his moustache began to twitch. It was the truth! How about that?
They sat simply looking at each other, with absolutely no expression except surprise. Then Wendy smiled. It wasn't polite to laugh when someone was confessing their love...she remembered that much, but then, her suitors before had never made her happy by admitting such a thing.
Not that James Hook was admitting, or confessing. It was more as if he were accusing her with it.
She bit back the smile and tried to look stern.
" Then, are you accusing me of being indigestion? " she asked finally, lifting a brow.
After she had uttered the question, the absurdity of the accusation was too hard to ignore and she began to laugh.
Then he laughed.
" Is that all you can say?" he asked.
"What should I say? Should I apologize..or perhaps remove the cause of your suffering? " she threatened to stand again, but he caught her, pulling her right into his lap.
" No...I think you should promise never to leave me. " he said.
Wendy was aware of the fact, that she had always felt a fascination for this man. It existed since her childhood...since before she had even met him in person. Perhaps it was more than merely a fascination...
She had believed for so long that she was going to die, that she had never thought much of love. It existed in story books. There had been that youthful fresh worship she had felt for Peter, but now it seemed stale in her mind.
Of course it did. She was a grownup now, and at the moment she was seated on the lap of a man. Not a boy. And not ten minutes ago, she had been perfectly willing to submit to him. She had even wanted too.
So she locked her arms around his neck.
" Well, I can't think of anywhere else I would rather be..." she said, leaning over to kiss him.
" Growing bold aren't we?" he mused.
" I am as brave as any pirate..." she said.
" That you are. But...can you kiss like a pirate?" he asked.
Wendy could never resist a dare, and without even a blush this time, she kissed him. This was the problem, he thought, as he held her tightly against himself. He had meant to make her fall in love, make her suffer through the agony...just to exact revenge.
But Wendy did not appear as someone who was suffering from anything. She did not act as though she were miserable. In fact she seemed quite vibrant. It was he who had been caught. Betrayed by his own heart, made little by this girl...
If he weren't so intent on their kisses he might have devised a plan to get revenge.
There would be plenty of time for that in the future...
He pulled back a little. " But you have not promised yet. "
"Promised what? she asked breathlessly.
" Promised not to leave me...ever." he said. His fingers were unbuttoning the bodice of her dress slowly.
" What if you wake to find yourself healed, and no longer suffering from me. Would you want me still to be so near?"
" I could not bear the thought it being otherwise..." her bodice was unbuttoned now, the curve of her breast was covered only in a white chemise.
" How like a man..." she teased. " I Imagine it would do me no good to run away...you would find me and torment me...?'' she murmured as she watched him trace light circles over her skin.
" It would do you no good. I would find you. And punish you..." he said, suddenly cupping her breast fully in his hand.
She gasped, wriggling a little, against the new sensation.
"Then there is no need to squabble. I promise."
"Promise what?"
" Never to leave you..." her voice trailed off into a whisper and he kissed her, this time, he nearly bruised her lips with his fervor, and she was left too weak to say or do anything more.
Holding her against himself with his good arm, he managed to stand. She felt a small thrill of purely feminine excitement course through her. He was strong, and yet graceful.
If he wanted, he could have done anything he wanted to her...yet he lay her down gently on the bed.
He thought longingly for a moment of the hook, laying abandoned on his desk...it would have helped him get through the barrier of her clothing. Alas...he would have to make use of creativity instead. Perhaps it was for the best...every moment that he took, unbuttoning her dress, pausing to touch the still chaste curves of flesh that showed, was helping to inflame her more.
At last, trough an amazing amount of patience on his part, he had her dress removed. She wore the chemise, and her stockings and shoes. He looked with dread at the high button shoes.
" I cannot unbutton your shoes..." he said in her ear, and she sat up to work them off. He took advantage of the moment and began kissing her back, through the thin shift. He could feel her tremble under his touch, hear her breathing as it caught in her chest.
The shoes fell to the floor, and she rolled off the stockings too. After they were off, she turned back to him. She felt a warmth flooding through her...like the warmth she had felt the night of her dream. It pooled in the bottom of her belly, and radiated throughout her. It was like laying in sunshine. Satisfying and natural.
But as he began to kiss her again, beginning at her throat and working downwards unbuttoning her shift as he went, she felt a new feeling overlap the first. Instead of merely feeling satisfied to lay there and be caressed, she felt an ache begin very near the pool of warmth. It seemed to wash away her thoughts and take control of her body.
Her hands were suddenly on him, not pushing him, not holding him, but caressing him. She felt the warmth of his skin, rough in some places, and smoother in others. When he began at last to kiss her breast, she arched up to him, and her hands began to knead at him, as if she could heighten her own pleasure by bruising him. He rolled the pink tip into his mouth and it stiffened, allowing him to suckle it gently.
A small cry escaped her this time, and her hands flew to his hair. With pleased surprise he realized she was holding him to her, pulling almost painfully at his hair in the process. Again he was aware of the wild adventuresomeness of her nature. Any effort someone had taken to tame her had been in vain. She was as natural as the sea and the storms.
He bit a little, and her fingernails sank into the skin of his neck. He changed to the other breast.
He had to rest most of his weight on her to be able to use his good hand to begin a new exploration beneath her chemise. He began by caressing her knee, causing her to giggle into his mouth, when she had just brought back to her own. But when his fingers began to travel upwards, she froze.
He could feel the muscles in her thighs fighting, wanting instinctively to relax, but trembling from her effort to not clamp them shut. Gently he kneaded the tender skin there, until she lost, and her legs fell open. Easily he parted them wider, and lay a leg over hers, to hold her.
Wendy tensed. She was now beyond the point where she knew what to expect. Now he was in charge, and arrogantly he brought his hand up to the center of her. She moaned something completely unintelligible, and he took that as encouragement to continue.
Wendy felt as if she were breaking. Surely this was what death would feel like...being unable to find yourself in your own thoughts, unable to remember you name as your body flooded with new sensations. She could not separate her feelings, nor tell if they brought her pleasure or pain. She wanted them to cease, wanted him to cease, but then she wanted him to continue forever.
What he was doing at the moment, was beyond all thoughts or reason. It left her weak, yet her body arched into the rhythm of his fingers. Whenever she did this, he would increase the speed until she thought her heart would stop...then he would ease away, leaving her unsatisfied, and frustrated. She had no shame now...she was not above begging.
In torn whispers she asked for more of what she did not understand. And when she looked up into his fathomless blue eyes, he smiled arrogantly again, and with a deft motion of his fingers, he delivered her from the sweet torment she was under.
She didn't know what was more beautiful...the beginning, the end, or the creator. All she knew was that she was sure she had experienced the greatest adventure of all, and that surely there could be nothing else so intensely pleasurable in this , or any other , world.
Once again Wendy was wrong.
Her body had not even began to cease it's thrumming song of glory, before he was stripping the shift from her. Naked under his gaze, she turned crimson, but did not have the strength to protest.
If she had blushed at him seeing her without clothing...it was nothing to the color she turned as he stood and began stripping off his own trousers. She reflexively covered her eyes, and in a moment, felt his weight on the bed.
" Suddenly modest?" he asked, clearly amused.
" I-I..." she stammered.
" Open your eyes...Wendy.'' he said.
It was only an excuse for her to do what she had been wanting to do since she had become his assistant.
Bracing herself, she took away her hand and took in the full sight of him. Her color remained high, but she gazed at him in appreciation. He looked, except for the dark hair on his body, like the roman sculptures and paintings she had seen once in the house of one her boarding school friends.
A man was much prettier in real life.
Looking at him for approval, she reached out, tentatively. She began by touching his arm, touching gently the rounded stump. She reached over and kissed it, touching it briefly with her tongue. From there on, her hands began to explore him hesitantly, yet much the same way as he had earlier explored her.
He couldn't keep his hands from her then.
This time, she knew what was possible, and she let her legs fall eagerly open, even as she busied herself still with touching him. It was quite fascinating the differences between them, from the small, differences in angle and plane...to the very obvious difference that she was trying not to think about.
It did her no good to ignore it, he only took her hand and guided it down to himself. She found it was not so bad as she might have thought. She wondered if it gave him as much pleasure to be touched in this way, as it had given her?
This idea enticed her to caress more smoothly, but gently, and she was answered by the look that went across his face.
She understood that expression.
That expression mirrored the way she had felt only moments ago. And even now, as he again had his fingers employed in the most industrious way.
She would have continued, but suddenly he seized her hand and held it out. She looked confused a moment, but the look was replaced by one of slight apprehension, when he came up over her. She felt...something...against her thigh, and she tried to close her legs.
He began kissing her again, holding himself up with his arm, which was taut with the effort.
" What are you doing?" she asked, even as she relaxed into his kiss.
" Taking you on another great adventure my beauty. One you will enjoy. I promise..."