A Neverland Tale - HOOKED (eng)

Chapter 6.7 - Fiona

The throaty rough sound of male lust permeated the room, dripping like warm water over fair skin and leaving dainty goosebumps on it though it was not cold. Heated lips pressed against pulsing copper, gathering little flecks of foreign exoticism from taut skin. Searching hands moved lower, catching her in a comforting embrace, narrowing the distance between her hips and the tub wood even further until firm resistance pressed into her back. Filou directed her thighs higher with the guidance of an experienced man, so Fiona followed the gesture's flow and arched toward him in a curved motion. Under the measured pressure of his fingers on her skin, her mind drifted for a moment, impatiently exploring the foreign land... familiar in an old way, yet completely new.

Would it really be so bad if he took more? Would she still have the strength to refuse him now? When every kiss drove away a little of the feeling of loneliness and distracted her from fear, pain, and despair. The flames blazed higher, bringing her to life and, at the same time, setting fire to every loose thread of memories. Fiona also felt the same hot flickering embers behind his hands, the firm musculature, and that minor illusion of restraint. Their play didn't lose its impulsiveness, but it changed... became more heated and, without her knowing it, more dangerous for both of them. Just like the peculiarities of his pronunciation, the way he moved was light and swinging, interspersed with silent promise and demand. Fiona blinked, hearing the thin ice crack beneath her feet too late... a puppy's clumsy attempt to cross the frozen river on her own. Now she was stuck, no forward and no back.

"And what makes you think I couldn't take it just as easy after the captain is done with you?" (Filou)

With brows drawn together, the thick wreaths of lashes fell away, pinned to the damp lapels of his clothing, where telltale water stains wet the white shirt and had left their mark even over the neat doublet. Yes... what made her think that? Fiona could answer that he hadn't done it now; therefore, she clung to the hope that he wouldn't do it later. But even unspoken, it sounded pitiful - so naive that she could have slapped herself for it. No, she had no mercy to expect from him, no assistance either. All that had kept him from doing more was loyalty to this captain or perhaps fear of consequences if he took too much. Filou wasn't the one she had to convince to let her live - his captain was.

"This is not a game... (...) I'm not risking my life and my position, for nothing." (Filou)

Now she tore her gaze from the stained fabric after all, searching for his eyes and the bitter hardness in them. Again, he lifted her chin so she had to meet his expression. Far too soft, too gentle for the cruel truth in the murmured words. A sweet poison melted deliciously on the tongue... but poison remained poison and would always kill. Fiona pressed her lips together and ground her teeth, trying to distract herself from the bitter sting of disappointment...

For nothing.

She would show him what was nothing - eventually. But at the moment, Fiona had other worries than revenge, although the feeling of shame was reflected in her slightly rosy cheeks. Oh yes, she was ashamed that she had thought she could wrap him around her finger in the first place. Sure, the flaring desperation was welcome to any saving straw... but even that thought didn't make it any better.

With the distance, the cool air flowed between them again, a reality Fiona had thought locked out for a few heartbeats. Her pulse quickened, jolting nervously in her chest, and as her feet touched the wet ground, she again became aware of her without clothes. Filou was already on her way to the cabin door, and Fiona was still looking for a way to half-cover herself, but the wet rags on the floorboard would have barely sufficed as rags.