Experience... It dripped out of his pores and his posture and lay on him like a heavy, thick coat. Shield and burden in one. Unlike her, which lay unsullied and pliable in his fingers like a white silk cloth, leaving dark stains on it. He tasted it on his tongue, which brushed against hers, while she blinked for a moment and opened her eyes to meet his.

Just a slit, between which the luminous irises brushed with the new sensation he was giving her, peered out. Up to the near sweep of the tip of his nose, the darkly standing out beard that framed his mouth as he pressed his lips to her soft pads of kisses. They nestled against him, and she watched like a little voyeur, not getting enough of the stern lines that formed intently between his eyes against the twitch of the corners of his mouth.

The sound that escaped her, slipping over vocal cords and finally breaking on the warm air that pleasantly tempered the fire, was astonished, sighing and dying into a high-pitched whoop that wafted around somewhere between sobs, breaths, and a surprised yip. That sound stung his loins in a demanding way and, at the same time, set off all the alarm bells inside him...

The feeling made him tremble. Inwardly as well as outwardly. Then he jerked back. His chest rose and fell under the heavy breaths as his arms tightened around them. His eyes, however, he did not tear away from her.... watched her, every movement in her features. She parted her red lips, slightly swollen and shiny from his quick kiss. The expression in her eyes, every movement of her body...

Ah, damn siren... he knew he was playing with fire. Of course, he took more liberties than the other pirates, and Ah, he WAS a pirate, after all. And what was the saying?

' Where there is no judge, there is no executioner'?

She returned his gaze without averting it. She didn't whimper; maybe he had expected resistance. That she didn't... made something inside him a scratch. The strange scribbling of a too-sharp, too-angular expression inside him on a sheet of paper made for folding art and not for irritating thoughts like the one about his... Captain was now creeping into his mind.

Instead, he held still as her arms loosened, her fingers touching his cheeks. Soft fingertips, even more, dissolved from the water and warm, explored his face. They traced the stubble of his cheeks over which she stroked her thumb as if it were an unfamiliar fabric whose rough feel she did not yet know. Whose structure she wanted to fathom and for which she took her time. Meanwhile, his gaze scanned her changing expression, which suddenly appeared nervous and undirected. He saw the wrinkles her forehead subconsciously drew and how her neck jumped as she swallowed and pressed nervously in his arm against his body, a vague jerk she might not have noticed, an undirected movement that he intercepted with his own. And then that daring siren pulled him of her own accord into another kiss.

His hand loosened its secure hold beside her head. It slid to her cheek, stroking his splayed thumb to the left, with far more emphasis and unspoken longing than a few seconds before when he passed over her lips and parted them. He pressed her against him and half against the tub until every detail of her body pressed against his and did not, as before, let the oath of allegiance to Hook resonate in his mind in a half-cooked state.

Redemptively, his lips rubbed over hers, passing over them and conquering the fine sweep anew as he drowned against her. Closed eyes with long, dark lashes in a profound sweep. She was so beautiful that it took his breath away for a second - that the intensity of his hand reaching for her neck became a little jerkier, more erratic, than tenderly measured caution, and he forced tender muscles beneath to mold themselves into the new shape, for which he didn't have to utter a command. Her body did it automatically. Instinctively, she reached through as he kissed her, and he savored the feel of her hips beneath his as his tongue captured and explored hers with a sweet, heated promise. If she hadn't felt what she was doing to him before, she undoubtedly did now as he pressed against her, and the brutal rise pushed between them both as his hand emphatically drove down her thigh and stroked inside.

Ah, he could feel her. The throbbing heat clenched at that spot.... but before his fingers could feel the pulsing dot, he withdrew them with the last semblance of self-control. Instead, his fingers dug into the firm, equally soft thighs. His hand trailed, stroking the entire surface of the soft tissue as the feel of her hardening tips against his chest sent a quick hiss between his teeth. If he had thought that HER heartbeat was going fast, he had to grab his nose now, because damn.... his heart put on a complete sprint as his gaze flashed to meet hers, as she used her lips for things other than continuing to drive him crazy.

"What I'm saying is the truth. There is no more. Your captain can torture me all he wants, but I can't tell him any more than I've told you. Filou. (...) There's no more. I wish there were more... but I don't know... I don't know who I am." (Fiona)

His brows drew together, forming a brooding line on copper-colored skin. An indefinable expression. Oh, he knew his duties very well. On the other hand, he couldn't accurately gauge what Hook would do with her. That was out of his hands and out of his power, for the captain formed the unchallenged pinnacle of the power structure on board, which none of them dared to doubt who were not prepared to pay with their lives.

The mutiny was not tolerated on any ship- and under Hook, you had to be aware that if you even dared to speak ill of the Captain, you would not just hang. Oh no- the Captain could be creative in punishing mutineers in sarcastic ways. After all, he had an eternity to think of the most innovative methods, which came from the deepest, darkest nightmares that even the devil would have applauded approvingly.

The calculation was straightforward for him: I would not question his fidelity and loyalty even because of a woman. But, slowly, it dawned on him why she showed herself so receptive to HIM. And almost a dark laugh rolled over his lips. Oh, she was more dangerous than he had first assumed. Washed up, drawn between sand and seawater by the effort, the little wet bird had seemed so delicate and fragile. Yet she was even more dangerous than she could have been with beauty alone... She was an intelligent woman. Intelligent women were even more hazardous and could soar far in Neverland, provided it did not break their wings quickly and roughly.

Once, too, he had known a woman who combined that rare blend of exotic beauty and extreme power. The devastating creature could mercilessly bring a man to his knees if he dared to underestimate her because of her appearance, hiding solid muscles under soft skin and long eyelashes. Tigerlily... she still terrified lost people, pirates, and every scum of the island today. Perhaps it was a bit far-fetched to compare the young woman with the chief's daughter of all things... nevertheless, this image of all things inevitably came to his mind but faded away just as quickly.

But... apparently, what she said was true. Judging by the injuries she had - the abrasions and cuts, as well as all the water she had spat out... had she probably hit the reefs? It was a miracle that the waves had carried her graciously to the beach, and it was probably thanks to the layers of her clothing that those had taken more damage than her body. It was not uncommon for bodies to be cut open on the coral and reefs, jammed in the narrow crevices, or crushed by rough waves, leaving little more than a pile of tattered remains to be washed up for the scavengers of Neverland to feast upon.

She had no idea of the unspeakable luck she had had. Hmm... or it had little to do with luck, more with a providence that some Neverland souls experienced because something nameless blinked in her direction at the right moment and bent events in her favor... A dark sound formed into a growl and rolled from his lips, rising from his chest.

"I believe you." his voice evidenced against her lips as the black-haired man moved down towards her, running his lips over her earlobe first before his tongue darted out and explored the finely curved shell.

A mixture of herbs, salt, and her subtle nuance occupied his taste buds as his hand stroked down the petite knee, fingertips continuing to the inside of the soft thigh.

"You've entered a dangerous world..." His voice broke as he murmured in her ear, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward. "And here you should think carefully... who you make your enemy and who your friend..."

He tasted the hint of forest blossom honey with a bit of salt, a unique nuance on his tongue that made his throat constrict and swallow. The roughened sound he emitted, carrying masculine impatience, stumbled close to the precipice - and he would have to lie, he claimed, that he didn't like it.

"You are afraid of the Captain..." he pronounced it obviously, "and that is good..." he admitted to her. "You are hoping for protection from me..." he hinted further, lightly biting her neck like a wolf-tasting prey without graciously breaking the tender neck.

Perhaps because the taste of the sweet blood of his tempting prey was too delicious to end this hunt too quickly?

"But nothing here is free. So what are you offering... for a good word with our captain?"

He enjoyed it, the little sensual game they played, at her pace, while he traced the features of her lips, gathering the impulses, one by one, that she gave him. At the same time, he imagined feeling her pulse rushing in her fingertips, in every movement.