Devourer of Men: A Captain Hook, Crocodile, and Wendy Darling Reimagining

Bloody hell, what am I doing?

The voice of Commander Hook is trying desperately to get in.

Poor form.

Poor form.

Am I sober? Am I thinking straight?

I feel sober. More so than I’ve ever felt before, but I must be losing my fucking mind to be trailing after the Crocodile and his cloud of smoke like a lost puppy dog.

His shoulders are level as he strolls through the streets a few paces ahead of me. Light from the lampposts casts a halo around his dark silhouette and even though he’s in front of me, the details of his body stuck in shadow, I can’t help but hunger for the sharp lines of him. Every jutting bone, every dimple of muscle, ever hard valley between his abs.

I want to touch him. Desperately. I’ve gone fucking mad.

And now I’m so hard, it hurts to walk.

Finding a pool of shadow, I reach down to readjust myself, tucking my cock into the thick leather of my belt.

When the roof of The Royal Suit appears in the distance, my heart beats harder and I quicken my pace, falling in step beside the Crocodile.

I can’t look at him while we walk.

If I look at him, I’m afraid of what I’ll see and what I might do when I see it.

He warned me there was no turning back.

I’m not afraid of walking away.

I’m afraid of the regret if I did.

I would always wonder what it might have been like, facing my greatest enemy, and then taking pleasure from him.

Oh who the fuck am I kidding?

I just fucking want him.

That’s it.

Can a man not seek pleasure where it’s freely given?

When we turn into the courtyard of the inn, I pull the keys from my pocket, the metal clanking in the deepening night.

The Crocodile says nothing but breaks open a peanut fished from his trousers and tosses the nut in his mouth as I fumble with the lock.

My stomach tilts, adrenaline rushing through my veins.

I get the bolt unlocked. There is a single lantern glowing from the hook by the door. It’s enough light to see by and I toss the keys onto the table, then reach for the bottle of rum.

I pour. I drink. I wince at the burn.

The Crocodile shuts the door with the sole of his boot.

He is no longer eating his peanuts, no longer smoking his cigarettes.

He is staring at me with an intensity that could scald.

I swallow hard.

“You’re steering this ship, Captain,” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me where you want me.”

He’s giving me control?

No, this is just part of the game.

I lick my lips, pour another drink, toss it back.

When the liquor warms the chill creeping up my spine, I say, “I want to fuck your arrogant fucking face.”

He grins at me, all sharp teeth, and spreads out his arms, then slowly sinks to his knees on the rag rug beside the bed.

The faucet drips behind me and outside the room, a breeze rattles the branches of an old oak tree.

What am I to do with the Crocodile now that I have him?

Maybe I don’t know what I’m getting into.

Maybe I am in way over my head.

“Well?” he coaxes.

He and I both know this is a direct answer to his earlier goading about blowjobs.

…a man is never more vulnerable than he is when his cock is in someone’s mouth.

This is my way of saying I’m not afraid.

Even though my heart is racing. Even though I don’t know where to begin, where to end, and if I might lose myself somewhere in the middle.

I set the empty glass down and cross the room to him.

My breath catches in my throat like a gale wind caught in an alley. Just circling uselessly, over and over again.

Roc looks up at me from his place on the floor and even though it’s a position of submission, neither of us is foolish enough to think he is submitting to me.

The Crocodile is just playing to see how far I’ll go.

Taking a deep breath through my nose, I unzip my pants, then undo the button. I’m already straining against my underwear and the Crocodile doesn’t miss it.

“Show me,” he demands. “Show me the cock Wendy Darling chose over mine.”

I catch the edge of his jealousy, but don’t hesitate.

I reach in around the waistband, fisting myself and a needy little sigh comes out of my throat before I can stop it. The Crocodile smiles.

My heart lurches in my chest.

When I pull myself out to the flickering lantern light, the Crocodile drags the tip of his tongue over his teeth.

There’s no turning back.

I won’t show him any fear.

This is my revenge, not his.

I stroke myself and my cock swells in my fist.

The Crocodile’s nostrils flare when I’m fully engorged, when the head of my dick glistens with pre-cum.

“Get the fuck over here, Captain,” he demands and closes the last foot between us by yanking me close by the hip of my trousers.

Suddenly I’m inside of him, enveloped in the wet, hot heat of his mouth.

“Bloody…hell,” I gasp out, all of the excitement and pleasure and exhilaration fizzing in my veins, ready to pop.

He controls me by the hips, his grip on me tight, bruising, while his mouth glides over me, tongue swirling around my cock.

I hang my head back, squeeze my eyes shut.

Fuck.

Fuck.

I can’t think straight.

Fucking hell he’s good.

He increases the tempo, sucking harder. I’m panting now and I can’t hide the desire, the desperate need for more of him. I can’t hide anything from the Crocodile when my dick is in his mouth.

I thread my fingers through the coarse waves of his dark hair, taking charge. I thrust deep, teeth gritted, but he doesn’t choke on me. Of course, the Crocodile would be unruffled by getting railed in the face. He knows just how to angle, to take every fucking inch of me.

I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. It’s like he’s worshipping me. Me. Of all people. I feel like I’m the king of the fucking world.

And when he takes my balls in hand, squeezes just enough to be painful, the pressure makes me see stars.

I’m going to nut in his fucking mouth. My mortal enemy. And he’s going to take it because I’m going to make him.

I huff out and I make the mistake of glancing down at him and it’s this, the sight of him, one of the most dangerous men in the Seven Isles, on his knees for me, it’s this that undoes me. How eager I am to fill him up, how willing he is to take me.

The orgasm comes out of nowhere, the heat of the pleasure matching the tight heat of his mouth as I fill him with cum.

A full body shake runs through me and my hips hitch forward, burying myself to the back of his throat.

The Crocodile doesn’t complain. In fact, his eyes are bright and searching as if this is the most amusing thing he’s ever endured.

I try pulling back, but he locks me in place another second longer, taking the last drop of me, his soft tongue swirling over my slit.

A whetted breath huffs out of me.

When I finally stumble back, my cock sticky with cum and his spit, he smiles at me, his lips glistening as he climbs to his full height. There is a bead of cum on the corner of his mouth and using the pad of his thumb, he swipes it away, then sucks it off like it’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

I wish I had a ship railing to hold on to because I feel like I’m about to spill over the edge.

Instead I backpedal until I meet the wall.

Pain sings across my stomach, driving away the ecstasy.

“Captain,” he says.

I blink several times. “What?”

“You’re bleeding again.”

I look down and see fresh blood seeping through his makeshift bandage.

“Bloody hell,” I breathe out and then the room tilts and I finally spill over.