Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan (16 page)

Finally Xavion spoke.  "Do you know why you're here?" 

She knew, but was curious to see if they did.  She shook her head.

"Peter brought you to see to our needs," Xavion said.  "We have been long without a woman's grace and have become rough and uncivilised.  He said you would... tame us."  And the look in his eyes conveyed clearly that table manners wasn't what he meant.

Dee found she was breathing heavily and tried to concentrate her thoughts.  What were the dangers? 

But she couldn't focus inwards, she was all external, feeling the soft fur against her skin and scenting the fire and pheromones that surrounded her.

"I... have to think."  She forced herself, closing her eyes to block sensory input, but it was hard. 
Where am I
? and
Can I leave when I want
? were the most pressing questions.

She tried not to dwell on the fact that no-one apart from Roc knew where she was.  If he knew.  He'd said she would be safe with DeMartande, but what did safe mean - free will, self-determination, or just lack of pain?

It all came down to one basic question.  Was this fantasy - this 'Never Land' scenario on her terms or DeMartande's? 

She looked at Xavion. "Where is... Peter?"

"Dealing with the pirates, but you need not trouble yourself with that, Wendee.  We will protect you here."

Protect?  Or confine? 

She looked at them again, carefully, but could see no hint of malicious intent.  One of them, a stocky blond, had a knife at his hip but she felt no threat from it.  They just looked like... Lost Boys waiting for their Wendee to
tame
them - a deliciously seductive thought.

As she pondered it, her attention settled on a lean boy who appeared to be the youngest of the troop.  He was trying unsuccessfully to look at her, but every time his gaze slid across the rug it would touch on her bare arm or throat and he would glance away. 

Dee became fascinated by his shyness, and forgetting her immediate problems, she watched him patiently.  After a moment he must have sensed her attention and his cautious eyes finally meshed with hers, and widened. 

In that instant desire stabbed her.  He was beautiful, like a graceful dancer, and the vulnerability of his eyes drew her in until she thought she'd drown in them.   Any element of risk seemed unimportant when compared to his allure.  Age, circumstance - nothing mattered.  She felt a sudden sexual infatuation as reckless as any teenager's, and yet she was filled with a woman's complicated desires.

The Lost Boys had desires too, she could see it in their eyes, even this youngest one.  They needed her.

She knew then that she'd stay.

With Roc she'd been drunk and full of misplaced lust, not really knowing what she'd wanted - out of control.  Now she was sober, and although being surrounded by so much hard-muscled masculinity had disorientated her body, her mind was clear.

She took a deep breath and shifted her gaze to address Xavion.  "Then if you want me to, I will..."
be your Wendee
?  "...stay," she finished awkwardly.

Xavion nodded, as though there could be no other outcome, but by making the choice herself she gained the illusion of control.

He gesture towards the fire.  "Then let us eat, Wendee."        

To Dee, her mind lasciviously dwelling on what was to come, the two words,
eat Wendee
, were a crude invitation.  Her lips parted on a soft gasp that caused most of them to smile, and the dark haired pair who were obviously twins, to laugh.  Her young admirer glanced away, blushing.

"We have fish and turtle, with papaya and coconut," Xavion said, "Come, Wendee."

She hesitated.  "Where are my clothes?"

"You had none."  He frowned, then added.  "Don't be modest with us, Wendee.  We were bored with waiting for you to wake, and curiosity drove us to explore your beauty in great detail.  We know the hollow at the base of your throat, the curve of your high breasts, the silky down that guards your secret places.  We know that even in sleep your body responds to a man's touch."

Dee swallowed tightly, her eyes locked with Xavion's.  It was beginning already.  She felt warmth uncoil within her but she strove to keep her surging emotions off her face.  She mustn't let them know she was frightened by anything they might do.  The spectre of having control taken away from her still lurked in her consciousness. 

"We can make clothes for you," Xavion added, "but it will take time."  He watched her patiently, but she could see the others were becoming restless.

It's only a fantasy, she reminded herself.  Just be their Wendee.  "No.  It's all right."  She pushed the fur away from her body and crept across the platform.

The Lost Boys moved back to make room for her as she slid to the floor, then there was a moment where they all stood in a semi-circle around her.  None of them were looking at her face. 

Another spasm of anxiety gripped her then, but she remembered Roc had been a stranger and she'd stood naked in his presence.  There were six men now instead of one, but the principle was the same.  Simple mathematics.

She pulled her shoulders back and stood tall, trying not to feel like an exhibit. 

Xavion gestured again towards the fire.  "Come," he said and touched her arm, only a slight contact but anticipation had made her hypersensitive and she felt tingles run up to her shoulder.  She shivered, then tried to get a grip on herself.  She must be assertive, confident.  

"Before we eat you must introduce yourselves," she instructed as she followed them across the rough-hewn room, but with every step her breasts jiggled and her buttocks swayed, and she felt the eyes of the Lost Boys upon her.     

By the time she'd reached the fire, her deliberate exhibitionism had aroused her terribly, and she wondered if professional strippers felt this sense of their own power over those who watched.  In this cave at this moment in time, these young men were captive to her sexuality, and perhaps if she was bold enough, even to her whims.  It was a boggling thought, and as it came, her nervousness fled. 

She stood staring into the fire, allowing the atavistic heat to inflame her skin as her carnal thoughts had inflamed her body.  The smell of their cooking permeated the cave and as the men ranged themselves around the fire she felt a sense of pre-history, as though this was the way it had been in times past.  The elemental combination of food, fire, bare flesh and sexual desires.  She looked across and met Xavion's knowing eyes.  He had sunk on to a hide and now patted a spot beside himself for her to sit. 

As leader of the group he would have the most rights.  Would he use those rights to take her first?  She shivered with anticipation as she stepped around the fire to take her place at his side, first kneeling, then sitting back on her haunches, not quite ready to expose herself by sitting cross-legged. 

The Lost Boys were watching expectantly, but Xavion was busying himself retrieving leaf parcels from the coals.  He unwrapped them to reveal two succulent pieces of fish and another pile of meat she assumed was the turtle. 

"Christophe," he said brusquely, and the lean boy who's eyes had touched her so deeply, rose.  "The fruit," Xavion ordered, and Dee watched Christophe flick her an unhappy glance before he turned to obey.  He disappeared into the depths of the cave, then reappeared carrying a large rough-clay bowl containing papayas and coconuts, just as Xavion had promised. 

He stood uncertainly across the fire from them before Xavion gestured for him to bring them around.

"Thank you, Christophe," Dee said as he laid the bowl in front of her, but he wouldn't meet her eyes, returning to his position across the fire where he sat with head downcast. 

He was a beautiful boy, and the sadder he seemed, the more attractive he was to her.  She didn't understand why, but it was so.

"These two," Xavion pointed at the twins, "are Tony and Nick.  They're puppies.  Harmless.  But if they bother you, tell me," he instructed. 

She nodded to them and they both smiled, or rather smirked at her.  They didn't look like puppies to Dee.  More like Greek gods, but with the sultry arrogance of born studs. 

They were also confident enough in themselves not to be hurt by Xavion's remarks, and as they smiled at him in turn she could see there was a certain irreverence in their expressions.  Yes, perhaps they'd be playful lovers.  

"Mack," Xavion introduced the stocky blond, and he stood, nodding his head sharply in her direction before resuming his seat.  "Norwegian.  Doesn't speak English, but good with a knife," Xavion pointed out needlessly.  Dee could see the piece of wood Mack was whittling although she couldn't tell by the shape what it was.  She felt it unfortunate that she wouldn't be able to communicate with Mack.  She sensed an underlying brutality in him, not aimed towards herself - but at life in general.  It disturbed her, but she felt confident in Xavion's protection.  He was so obviously in command.

"And last, is Josh."

Xavion's voice had taken an odd note, as though he were sharing a private treasure.  Dee gazed across the fire at the man Xavion was introducing and was surprised that she hadn't noticed him earlier.