Thank you so much for the reviews. They were so kind I just had to get going faster on this next chapter.

M rating comes into play now.

His desire burned strong and clear. The need for the woman he had just left clawed at his mind and body. He loved her more than any of the wonders he had seen in his long life but surely she would drive him mad before the end. A ghost of a smile brushed his lips. She was stronger than he. Try as she might she could not hide the eagerness of her body, the dilation of her pupils. They wanted the same thing. Something was inhibiting her yearning. If only he had her restraint.

He arrived in the clearing that was one of the few places in Neverland he had made completely his own. A high cliff cradled half of a small lagoon. A rush of water tumbled down a series of rocks before falling as a brief waterfall into the water with a boulder protruding from the middle. Rocks surrounded the entire pond and covered the ground under the water. The depth of the pool was only at abdomen level making it a perfect lounging area. It was a beautiful sight but the true wonder of the secret glade was the white roses. The blanket of white was only interrupted by a few paths of thick green grass. He had had Tootles help him cultivate these flowers when Wendy had left. Though she was gone he needed a place to feel close to her, a place that he could keep to himself. This was that place. Besides the pool in the mountains he never felt more near her than here.

Without slowing his decent he shed his garments and dropped into the crystalline waters. He lazily glided through the water. Peter had hoped that the cool water would serve at abating his lust. It did not. Sighing he stood near the boulder in the center and reached for his manhood. He was no stranger to self gratification. Though it always seemed hollow compared to what he hoped to share with Wendy. He curled his fingers into a fist around himself and began to move, he imagined it was not he who held tightly but Wendy. So engrossed he was with his fantasy that he did not notice the ripples as another lowered their body into the basin.

When a soft hand came to rest on his shoulder he startled out of his revere. Standing with the ripples lapping at her smooth belly was Tiger Lily. The swell of her copper breasts were erotically framed by the long inky hair that hung down to her hips. Silence stretched before them as Peter struggled to find words appropriate for this awkward encounter. But it was she who broke the lull.

"I would be happy to assist you with your troubles, all you need is to ask."

Her words fractured his speechlessness.

"What are you doing here?"

"I am here for you. You have been difficult to hunt down lately. Alone that is."

"I see. Well, pardon my abruptness but I must be going. Goodnight." He turned and started toward the shore.

"She doesn't belong here Peter, and she does not deserve you."

Fury boiled through him as he spun around and descended angrily on her.

"What would you know of it?" He demanded.

"I know she left you. And I know she obviously leaves you wanted." She said with a deliberate glance at his erection. "I know that she has hurt you. And I know that I would never do these things"

"You know nothing." Was his thin response.

"Peter, let me help you. If I cannot convince you to love me, at least let me convince you to take what you need from me."

His mind was detached. Surely she was not offering herself to him. The want that bubbled so close under his skin ached at her words. He was frozen as she moved to him and slid her arms up his chest to rest around his shoulders. He did not respond when she pressed her nude body against him and feathered a kiss over his taut mouth. His fists involuntarily clenched as his hunger erupted. Sensing his stability dissolving she increased her assault. She drifted her arm down his body to stroke the thickness pressing between them. He gasped and she seized the opportunity to stroke her tongue against his. He pulled slowly away resting his forehead against hers; he was wholly under her control.

"This means nothing." His voice was strangled.

"So you say." Came her retort.

In a movement that could only be described as violent Peter twisted the princess away from him and pushed her torso against the rocks. In a single movement he entered her. This was not an act of tenderness or love, it was an almost rage filled lust that threatened to consume him. He pressed a palm against her back as the other gripped her hip in an effort to nearly push her away had they not been involved in the most intimate of deeds. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the primal urge of the act. He was no longer a man restricted by his devotions. He was primitive, a beast, stripped of rational thought, taking with no concern for consequences. His senses heightened, his nerves sang as he rushed toward his release. His muscles were coiled taut with his efforts. With his sight forsaken he could only feel, smell, hear and taste. His skin was fire embodied; every droplet of sweat that ran along his sinew was a river of ice attempting to quench the flames. He could taste the salt from his perspiration. His hearing was focused, fixating on the sounds of the water moving and the slick strains of flesh on flesh. The water smelled clean, and the air was thick with the scent of their copulation. But hinting just at the edge of his faculty was another scent. He inhaled deeply to grasp it from the air. Roses. His eyes snapped open. Bearing witness to his treacherous act were the white roses. Wendy's roses. What did he think he was doing?

"Damnit!" He exclaimed shoving himself off and out of the woman before him.

Shock colored her flushed face as she turned to him. "Peter, whatever is the matt..."

"Don't touch me." He hissed and she tried to close the distance between them.

"It's a bit late for that my love." She smirked, though she had dropped her outstretched arms.

He had ruined everything, defiled the place that had always been evidence of his devotion. And now what he had done, there was no word vile enough to define his repugnance. He pitched backward through the water as he attempted to put more space between himself and the siren. His hands finally found purchase on the bank of the water and he heaved himself onto land. His forearm landed on something hard and cold. Shifting to see what he had landed upon his vision tunneled at the sight. Nestled in the tall grass was a silver chain attached to a thimble. An object he would as soon forget as his would own name.

No.

She had been here. What had she seen? Tiger Lily was saying something but her voice was a million miles away from him. He tangled the metal in his fingers as the world grayed around the edges. A tear wove its way down Peter's face. The sky opened with a storm to match the depth of his despair. He snatched his clothing from the ground as he tore into the jungle. He needed to find her, to explain, beg, move the stars if she so desired.

"Peter! Wait!" Came the scream of a voice he now hated nearly as much as his own.

She had dallied on the way to the waterfall. Vain though it was now that she had finally accepted what was about to occur she found herself set on perfection. She wove small flowers she gathered on the way into her hair and hummed to herself as a bride might on her wedding day. When her meandering journey finally brought her to her destination she smiled when she saw his clothing strewn on the ground a short distance from the water but out of sight. This place, it would make the perfect location for their first union. Should she disrobe before going to him? She blushed at her boldness. Yes, she would go to him unashamed and ready. She reached up to unhook the chain that held his kiss. At that moment sounds of a struggle reached her. Grunts and a sharp cry, clutching her necklace in one hand she raced toward the skirmish set on defending her love.

Her feet stopped moving before her mind was able to grasp the sight that lay in front to her. Peter and Tiger Lily. The links of her most precious gift slid one by one from her fingers until it fell from her hand in a coil on the grass. Her thoughts raced as she attempted to make sense of what she was witnessing. She was an intruder, and interloper. Spying on what should have been an ultimate act of love. She could not seem to tear her eyes from the sight. His eyes were closed but hers were open. It occurred to Wendy then that Tiger Lily was looking directly at her. Their eyes met and locked, the women stared at each other for a moment and then a smile that was filled with hate spread across the supreme beauty of Tiger Lily's face.

Wendy stumbled backwards. Run! She needed to run. She turned and began her wild rush away from that place. She threw herself into the air intending to take flight. She floated a short distance and had only a moment to throw up her left arm before she crashed into a tree. Wetness coated her cheek; she wiped away tears and blood. She studied her hand bewildered to see the mixing liquids. She had been quite certain her ability to cry and bleed had left her the moment she witnessed the betrayal. The arm that had taken the brunt of the impact hung limply and at an odd angle. Physical pain was a whisper compared to raging agony in her heart. She could not fly but she could still run.

Savage determination urged her forward toward her goal. She had but one place that could now offer her refuge. She was nearing her destination when thunder clapped and rain began to pour. He knows. How long had she been running? Time meant nothing. Knowing the distance between the two places was not far she could only hope that target would escape him and he would not overtake her. Almost there, she urged. She collided into a patch of brush and careened onto the sand. Hazy through the deluge was the light of a single lantern. Her sanctuary, she had made it.

Hook sat at the head of his dining table in his quarters, his only companions a cut crystal glass and decanter filled with whiskey. He infrequently allowed himself the indulgence of becoming intoxicated. He had always felt that drunken stupor was beneath him. He scowled at the amber liquid that was doing nothing to improve his mood. What had he expected? That she would come running back to him and allow him to explain himself? Absurd. He knew she remembered nothing. But the stars had aligned and he had had no choice. He loved her damnit. He had watched her grow up across time itself and had fallen in love with who she had become. What had started as a mild curiosity watching the girl who helped Pan best him had turned into an all encompassing obsession. The hardships she had faced had been a crucible that changed the defiant, headstrong girl into a strong, confidant, compassionate woman. He had been horrified the day he realized he wanted to reach through the void and kiss away the tears that stained her cheeks on an evening she sat silently weeping over the family's budget. He swirled the liquor in the glass and then threw it across the room where it exploded into hundreds of dazzling shards illuminated by candlelight. Pathetic.

It had been 3 months since he had brought her back. He was many things, but he was a man of his word. And since giving the letter to the boy he had not sought Wendy out. He had been close a number of times, sleep was proving more and more difficult and he found himself arguing at his own reflection why he shouldn't just go and retrieve her again. No doubt her so called saviors were filling her in on what the boy had caused her to forget. And he had unfortunately given her reason to fear him as well. It had been a grave error shackling her to his bed. He had only done it out of fear she would flee as quickly as she did from his dreams when he woke each morning. He had underestimated her resourcefulness. And now she was closer than she had ever been physically but might as well have continued to be on the other side of the universe. He was destined to be the villain in all of Wendy's stories.

He slumped back in his chair. He was exhausted and out of sorts. He looked down at his sprawled form. He had always been a meticulous dresser and finding himself garbed in plain brown breeches, worn boots and in only his shirtsleeves caused him further angst. The shadow of a 3 day beard further testified to his neglected appearance. He ran his hand through his hair that had escaped the leather tie. He shouldn't be doing this. He had long ago been a terror of the seas; in this place he had at least been able to hold the title of blackguard. His infatuation with her had spawned a man he hardly recognized; one of compassion, a man of feeling. He both exalted and cursed the day Wendy had first come to Neverland. Perhaps it was time again to look for ways to escape this place with his ship. He knew the world from which they had come was nothing like the one they had left. But there were alternatives, other options that he had begun to explore before Wendy had become the focus of his attentions.

The night was cool and he had opened the thick curtains to let the air in through the open windows. The weather had been perfect these last months. Only a light rain here and there to sate the vegetation. Pan was in a good mood. Bastard. That his enemy should be benefiting from his hard work was unbearable. He was staring at the stars in the clear shy contemplating a walk around the deck when lightning streaked across the sky and rain poured in a deluge from thickening clouds. He hurried to close the windows but kept one open to watch the glory of the storm. What was happening? Lovers quarrel perhaps he sneered. He could only hope. But as he watched the wind gain strength he began to worry. He had not seen a storm like this since… Since she had left. No. She could not be gone again, what had Pan done? Slamming the last window shut he raced across the room. He had to do something, what could he do? Nothing, but dammed if he would sit here drunk and watch his dreams dashed by the carelessness of his nemesis again. He had reached the door when someone pounded on the other side of it and shouted "Captain!" It was Bill Jukes, he was supposed to be manning the boat at Buccaneer Point. James wretched the door open with such force it was a wonder the knob stayed attached.

The massive form of the crewman filled most of the space outside of the door, but as Hook's eyes adjusted he could see the slight form of a woman being steadied by Jukes. She was soaked to the skin and a stream of crimson flowed from a small jagged gash over her eye. Her left arm was held in a makeshift sling fashioned from a neckerchief. Wendy. She looked up at him with eyes that dripped with her obvious sorrow.

"I didn't know where else to go." Were her only words, before she collapsed into his arms sobbing.