CHAPTER EIGHT
The damn crocodile had almost eaten him whole.
Emma grasped his arm as they managed to get him back on board the ship, he looked elated, but she could feel the adrenalin pulsing through him as he held the creature's heart aloft in his hand. Roaring victoriously at his men as the beast that had hounded their ship for days had finally succumbed. The hide was dragged on board, arrows and blades still sticking out of it as he stalked around all twenty foot of it, examining every inch of the monstrous creature that seemed to have a taste for human flesh.
Emma tried to remain calm, tried to justify her concerns, as she'd watched him battling the thing, but as she watched him drink and celebrate his victory with his men, the intensity boiled over as he grasped her hand, dragging her up to dance and holding the bottle of rum out to her like an apology.
The alcohol dulled her senses, but the panic that tightened her chest refused to abate, only lessened when his hands slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he plied them both with rum until the air seemed saturated with it.
This wasn't the first time they'd been in life and death situations, most of their situations seemed to end that way, but there was just something about the Crocodile, about what she knew of Hook's story, the idea that he might lose the other hand... or worse, a crocodile was supposed to have killed him in the end. Whatever it was this time had felt different, his elation rang hollow inside of her. They had been playing this game between them for so long now that she knew his every quirk and twitch, but it was changing, as she swayed in his arms, taking the rum from him, taking every drop of courage she could from it.
"Kiss me Love." It was his plaintive plea, always, as he backed her up to the mast, leaning in and demanding she end this unspeakable tension between them, the sound of the music seemed to fade into the background as they shared a breath, nose to nose.
"Never." She reminded him, her hand that had meant to push him away fell heavy against his chest, she couldn't seem to find the will to shove him this time.
"I saw you Love." He reminded, leaning in to whisper in her ear, the sensation sending a jolt straight to her groin as she struggled to keep the memory of the crocodile's pulsating heart in her mind. "You were worried. Seconds away from hurling yourself after me." He taunted and she felt her head hit the mast in mortification. This contradiction was impossible. She didn't want him, couldn't, but she absolutely had to have him, or she'd burst. He was swaying their hips together in time to the music, drawing ever increasing levels of tension, her whole body almost vibrating with the desire to feel every inch of him against her.
Her hand rose almost unbidden to slide through his hair, drawing his head down closer to her. They were so good together, as a team she trusted him implicitly to have her back. Why couldn't she trust him with this? He'd proven time and again that they were in this together, that Neverland was their playground, their adventure, their glorious journey. Why did it have to be apart?
Hook waited. He always waited, only ever pushing so far, never crossing that line that would force her to push him away forever. His stolen kisses their guilty secret, just so long as she always pushed him away in the end... Emma pulled his head down, crushing her lips against his with an audible sound of relief as his tongue slid into her mouth, tasting and exploring her until she was all but trembling with the need to sate the lust he so easily stoked. He wasted no time, his legs stumbling as he half dragged, half carried her from the deck down to his cabin, fumbling with the lock long enough to give her time to breathe and back away.
"Don't." He whispered, approaching her again, his desperation clear as he grasped her shoulders, "Don't you dare reconsider." He warned, finding her mouth again and driving the thought out of her head as her hands pulled him closer, wrapping herself around him and giving in to the absolute sensation of right as he pushed them back to the table. There was no preamble as they tore at each other's clothes. She'd wanted this for so long, denied herself it for longer. For what? The only person she was making miserable was herself, and right now as his mouth travelled down her neck, she was far from miserable as he lifted her up onto the table, her back hit it and she moaned as he wrapped her legs around his waist, his hands sliding along her front, fighting for entrance with her clothing.
Hooke's hand tugged at the ridiculous corset that she'd managed to force herself into for their latest visit ashore. He grunted in frustration as the fabric refused to give and he gave up, his hand working the laces of her leather pants, trying to find more than an inch of her flesh that he could actually touch unimpeded. "Emma!" he all but cussed, with a roar of frustration as he joined her on the table and slid up her body, content to grind against her for the moment whilst she tugged his shirt over his head, mouthing the exposed nipple on his chest and causing him to hiss in half pain and pleasure as her teeth teased it.
"Don't tease me Love." He pleaded, the extent of her torment pressed hard between her legs, restrained by his leather trousers. His lips bit into her exposed collarbone, tracing every inch of skin he could find in sheer desperation.
Emma arched beneath him as his hands palmed her breasts roughly. "Killian." She breathed, the use of his name no longer unfamiliar to her after spending so long working side by side, the desperate urge to give into this unconsummated attraction like a tombstone of torment around her neck.
"Emma, help me." He breathed, tugging at her clothes desperately. Emma slid her hand into her boot, handing him the knife she kept concealed there with a wicked grin. "That's my girl." He grinned rakishly, wasting no time in sliding the razor sharp blade beneath the clothing and slicing it from her pliant body with consummate skill. The moment the fabric parted, the knife was abandoned and his hands slid over her skin the look of absolute abandon on his face was more arousing than anything she'd ever experienced as his rough fingers touched her breasts for the first time, turning her breasts into hard taut peaks in mere moments.
His mouth crashed against hers and she was hard pressed to remember why it was she'd been fighting this for so long. The feel of his tongue sliding against hers as he explored her mouth whilst his hands slid beneath the fabric of her skirt to finally graze her aching centre was as close to perfection as she had felt in a long time. The moan she released into his mouth was practically wanton.
"You were right." He rasped against the sensitive skin behind her ear, his tongue flicking out into the shell and sending jolts of excitement through her as he slid long careful fingers into her with assured confidence of a man who knew just how to make her scream.
"About what?" she raked her fingers through his dark hair, tracing her nails down his back and trying to divest him of his leather trousers so she could see him.
"Waiting." He bit her ear causing her to arch and pulse her inner muscles deliciously around his questing fingers. "Your touch is like fire to me now Love."
She finally managed to divest him of his trousers, pushing them down his hips far enough that she had freed his straining erection, in seconds she'd grasped him firmly, not caring about the way he almost hissed, clearly desperate for her not to push him beyond his straining limits too soon. "Hook." She warned, enjoying the feel of him pulsing in her hand as he ground into her, the need to feel him inside of her was intense, his fingers weren't enough, she needed this, needed him. "Now." She ordered, pulling him towards her as he withdrew his hand, letting her guide him in, he needed no further encouragement as he gave one long hard thrust, burying himself to the hilt and stopping abruptly, his one hand clutching her shoulder as kissed her deeply. "Move." She insisted when he remained still for so long she thought she might burst with need.
"Is that the sound of you begging me Love?" his grin would need to be chiselled from his face as she wrapped her legs around his hips, taking the initiative and rocking herself beneath him until he could hold out no longer, his hips beginning to piston in time with her desperate rhythm. Emma felt her eyes roll back as he drove deeply into her, pulling out fully only to slam back in, drawing every shred of sensation he could from their frantic coupling. There would be time for slow languorous love making, this was not it, they both needed this too badly, needed to feel the release of the other. Her hands cupped his ass cheeks, feeling the muscles straining as her hips pulled him closer still, wishing she could stay in this moment forever as he bit down hard against the skin on her neck, marking her, marking this moment. Emma came hard, screaming his moniker and not his given name into the salty skin of his shoulder, biting him in turn to clamp down on the sensations tearing through her as she rode out her orgasm beneath him, feeling him jerk gasping as he found his release.
He collapsed beside her as she lay, her back pressed against the hard wood of the table, watching the chandelier rock buffeted by the movement of the boat as they lay in uncomfortable silence, catching their breath.
"Don't say it." Hook sighed. Emma turned her head slowly to look at him, he looked resigned.
"That would be a cliché wouldn't it." Emma muttered, as he turned onto his side, bringing his hand to trail lightly over her skin, keeping the words 'this was a mistake' to herself and trying to ignore how over sensitized her skin was to his touch now.
She picked another slightly less cliché sentence, "This won't happen again." she promised, which given their still intimate position, was a big claim and more than a little hypocritical, which he looked completely unconvinced by. That irked her more than anything, because she knew he was right.
"You seem certain Love. Don't tell me I didn't satisfy you, because I am more than willing to give it another go." his eyebrows quirked suggestively and he captured her hand in his, bringing it to his lips to kiss the knuckle of each finger with deliberate intent. "Admit it Emma." He smirked, propping himself up on his elbow and casually toying with her hair "You enjoyed it."
Emma rolled her eyes suppressing the grin that meant her own sense of humor was becoming as warped as his these days. She sat up and trying to put distance between her body and his hand, all it seemed to do was allow him to draw his fingers down her spine. "What do you want me to say." Emma sighed wearily. "It was great, mind blowing, everything we both knew it would be." She glanced back at him seeing the smug expression growing. "Because it was and guess what, it changes nothing." The smug grin receded. "Just because something feels good, doesn't mean it's actually any good for you… I used to smoke, not that you'd have any idea what that is, but trust me, that buzz, the endorphins, not so comforting when you know its slowly poisoning you to death."
"This," he waved at them both "You and me, it's not poisonous." He sounded angry as he stood up, hopping off the table to shrug his leather pants back on aggressively. "Emma. You are determined to make yourself miserable. I won't be helping you out with that Love. I know what I feel. So Neverland is intensifying those feelings... so what. Better to feel this, than nothing. And if you want to kid yourself that there is nothing here, then that's your miserable life sentence, not mine."
"Clearly." Emma muttered, watching him, she didn't even feel uncomfortable sat naked on his table… she should have, any rational person would, which just proved her point, this whatever it was, just wasn't rational, it was a curse, a trick of Neverland, a single lapse in judgment that was now being warped into defining her whole existence.
"Have you ever considered Emma." He tugged his shirt over his head, nailing her with a sharp look that warned her whatever he said next was going to sting, "That maybe you just need to believe that so you have an excuse; because for you there is no way that a simple," he smirked, "charming, Pirate like me could ever get under that armor of yours, unless I somehow tricked you into it."
Emma didn't respond and he huffed, picking up her clothes and handing them to her, before stepping back and crossing his arms expectantly. "That's just the problem," she acknowledged. "You did trick me, this whole place is a trick. Even if I did feel anything for you, I can never trust it because I have no idea where Neverland ends and I begin."
"Then the problem is Neverland." Hook responded firmly as she began to pull on her own clothing, the corseted top was ruined she held it up to him with an accusatory look as he smirked and retrieved one of the plain cotton shirts for her instead.
"We can't exactly help the fact that we're trapped here." She muttered accepting the new clothing without a word and pulling it over her head. Her eyes snapped to his as the memory struck. "We're trapped here." She managed weakly. "Oh god Killian we forgot again. We're supposed to be finding a way home." She jumped down from the table as his hook and hand grasped her biceps, trying to calm her.
"Home." He nodded, "Your home. My revenge." He took a long swallow that she knew from experience was him digesting the unpleasant sensation of a lost memory returning.
"Killian," the use of his name was becoming a bad habit and he pulled her closer into an embrace, the feel of his hook pressed against her spine should have been unnerving, she knew just what he could and had done with it, but right now, it was just an extension of him, and it was comforting. "How can we live like this, everything that matters to us is being stripped away. We can't hold on to anything long enough for it to matter."
"I remember you just fine Love." He caught her chin with his thumb, "That's what matters."
Emma shoved at his chest in frustration, but he didn't even budge, just rocking back on the balls of his feet and letting no space between them. "That's Neverland talking you idiot." She cussed. "That's what this place does, the only memories we keep are of each other, our whole world is reduced to this," she gesticulated between them, "me and you." He looked fine with that assessment which only ticked her off further. "I want more than that." She snarled. "I want a life, memories, friends, family…" her mind clicked again and she felt her whole body almost collapse with the weight of the memory. "Henry." She breathed crushing herself against Hook in the futile effort to stave off the agony of the memory, the knowledge that she'd somehow forgotten him again. The choked sob that tore from her clearly affected him, because his embrace tightened until she was barely able to breathe with her head buried against his chest. "Please Killian." She all but pleaded. "We have to find a way to stop this, a way to hold on to the memories we need to. We have to find a way to leave Neverland."
She felt him nod, beneath his chest his heart was beating strong and calm. "Together. We leave Neverland together. I want the chance to prove that this place had nothing to do with how I feel… or how you feel. Besides, there's a Crocodile there with my name on it."
Emma lifted her chin to meet his gaze, she nodded once pressing her lips to his, because deny it she might, but she liked kissing him; even if he was a revenge driven ass.
Hook ended the kiss, releasing her gently and turning on his heel, the maniacal glint she knew only too well was in his eye as he began to pace, "So. How to leave Neverland?" He posed the question rhetorically and she eased herself back to sit on the edge of the table. "We know that Tink's powder got us to the Enchanted Forest... I think we can safely say we won't be visiting there again anytime soon." His pacing stopped. "People drift into Neverland, they don't drift out." He sighed, clearly out of ideas.
Emma paused, feeling another memory stirring at the reminder of the pixie. "Peter Pan."
Hook gave her a look with raised eyebrows. "Another pixie?"
Emma frowned, certain that name meant something, or should mean something to him. "He was a boy, who never wanted to grow up. He stole children away to Neverland to have adventures forever."
"Sounds like a real hero." Hook didn't look impressed… or like he had a clue what she was talking about.
"This is all wrong." Emma drew her fingers through her hair in frustration. "Your Captain Hook, he's Peter Pan, you should know who he is. It's in all the stories, your mortal enemies."
"My mortal enemy is a boy?" Hook looked amused and put out all at once.
"He can fly." Emma shrugged as if that made all the difference.
"So maybe he was just an overgrown pixie after all then."He rubbed his chin in thought, "You said you knew the story?" she nodded, "And these stories are always accurate?"
Emma rolled her eyes. "No I suppose not, they seem to be a lot more twisted, although I suppose it's just as possible that maybe the story just hasn't happened yet."
"And that helps us how?" he was getting snarky. "I think I liked it better when we were hot and sweaty and you were naked in my arms Love, maybe we should get back to that." He approached her with a grin and she pressed her palm against his chest, stopping him.
"Peter Pan used to fly to my world, that's where he found the children to bring back here where they became…"
"The Lost Boys." Hook finished for her excitedly. "Love... you are bloody brilliant." He kissed her lips soundly. "We could do this. Find this Pan, get him to show us where and how he gets to your world."
"He won't tell you anything." Emma pointed out, rolling her eyes at him.
"Why not?" he sounded affronted, "I am perfectly charming, just as you know."
"You're a Pirate." Emma huffed, "He's a ten year old boy that makes you the enemy in his little world." The memories were coming thick and fast now, overwhelming her with the prospect of actually getting home, of escaping this place and its curse. Her lips curved up at the edges as the idea took shape, "No, what you need is an infiltrator... someone he can trust. A motherly figure." Hook matched her grin with a wicked win of his own.
"Why Emma darling, I had no idea you were so devious." He sounded far too proud.
"Not Emma." She corrected him. "Call me Wendy, darling." She drawled, his expression letting on that he had no idea she was making a joke, but it didn't matter, she could see the pieces of this particular puzzle falling into place. This was where the story came into it, she would play the part of Wendy, she'd be the mother, she'd give them their medicine, tell them the fairytales she knew now only too well. And in return, he'd teach her how to fly home.