Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan (18 page)

"Christophe?" 

He looked at her through strands of fringe and bit his lip.  Just like...  There was a moment of memory-spasm, an instant of
deja vu
, but no pain, no faces to haunt her.  The moment passed and then there was only Christophe and she felt the swirl of arousal grip her stomach.  He was so beautiful. 

She forced herself to go on.  "Where is the toilet?"

He blinked, jolted by her question, as she'd hoped he would be.  After a moment, he stepped forward and pointed down into the stream.  It wasn't the answer she'd expected. 

"But isn't it reticulated?"  Pietre must have built this place, or at least borrowed it.  Surely he didn't expect her to bathe in water that contained effluent.

Christophe was frowning.  "It goes out."  He pointed to the hole in the rock wall where the water exited. 

"I see that," she agreed patiently, "but does it come back?" and she raised a dripping arm to gesture at the water erupting from the wall.

"Water runs down, not up."  The look he gave her made it obvious what he thought of her mental capabilities, and for a moment Dee felt cast adrift.  Christophe was certainly acting in character.  Was she really in Never Land?  Perhaps she was lying somewhere lost in a drug induced dream.

She skimmed her hands through the water.  It felt real, but how could she be sure?  She had no experience with drugs.

She looked at Christophe.  "Are you real," she asked seriously.  Perhaps he was a composite fantasy of every sexually defenceless young man she'd ever met.

Standing above her, Christophe had gone very still.  "Are you?" 

He was looking at her as though he expected her to vanish at any moment - as though she was a water sprite he'd found and didn't want to frighten.

On impulse she slipped under the surface, listening to the eerie underwater sounds of the cavern.  The timelessness was lulling, but the need to breathe, to
be
, brought her back up.

She stood before him, head up with water pouring down her body, slicking her dark hair down her back and coursing over her breasts.  Her eyelashes were heavy and clumped together, giving her a completely different perspective on the cave, on Christophe.  He looked blurry, stunned.  She wondered how she appeared to him.  Was she a mermaid?  There were mermaids in Never Land, she was sure.  Perhaps she'd transformed while she'd been beneath the surface.

"I think I'm dreaming," she said, her hands rising through the water to slide up her belly and cup the undersides of her breasts.  Her skin was alive with the movement of the water, tingling in a way she'd never experienced before.  But it was more than

the water, and it was tied in with Christophe.  She stared at him, letting her eyes taste the lithe perfection of his form and feed on his wide-eyed apprehension.  Finally she said, "You're too beautiful to be real."

"No... it's you..." Christophe said, stumbling backwards.

Dee stepped out of the pool and followed his retreat, suddenly convinced she was in a dream.  She would have him.  "What about me, Christophe?"

"You're the b-beautiful one," he stammered, then abruptly came to a halt as his back met the wall. 

Dee stopped in front of him, a hand's-breadth away.  He was actually trembling, and she felt a wave of tenderness come over her.  He turned his head away shyly as she leant in to breathe his scent, her lips brushing the sensitive skin behind his ear.  Then she sniffed a little higher against his tousled hair. 

"You smell of innocence and mystery to me, Christophe, you with your pale skin and your black, black hair."  She paused, listening to the sound of his irregular breathing.  "You're a gypsy boy, and you've stolen my heart," she whispered, pulling back a little.  At that moment, she believed her words to be true.

Slowly he turned his head back.  "Are you teasing me?"  There was such anguish in his eyes that Dee reached out instinctively, placing her palms flat on his quivering chest.  His heart pounded wildly inside.

"Kiss me, Christophe."

His eyes widened in terror.

"Just one kiss," she coaxed, leaning in again to brush her lips against his.  He was so tender, she could almost taste his sweetness, and the way he trembled against her hands like a frightened creature melted her insides.  It would be so good with him, so slow and erotic.

"Just... one... kiss," she whispered and then they were, his lips moving softly against hers as her fingertips gently caressed his chest.  His soft groan vibrated their closed lips.  She wanted him to open to her, to let her delve into the sweetness within, but he was like a virgin to her and she knew she must be tender, patient.

Her hands drifted up to caress his shoulders, to glide over his neck and tangle in his hair.  She wondered if she dared press her body against him.  He was making soft, inarticulate noises in his throat as she pursued the kiss, gliding the tip of her tongue along the crease where his lips met and then tilting her head sideways to lick softly across them.

"Kiss me, Christophe," she whispered, "Pretend that you love me."

He groaned in earnest then, his hands rising uncertainly to touch her dripping hair.  Dee took the opportunity to press her damp body against him, pinning him to the wall, thrilling to the hard bulge that pressed against her belly.

"Kiss me," she demanded - and he did.  His lips parted and his tongue slid softly across hers.  The taste of him, the delicacy with which he explored her mouth and the tentative way he touched her face were exquisite. 

She felt enraptured, as though the sensations would build over hours, not needing to rush, until eventually she'd orgasm from the pleasure of his kiss.  She'd never experienced this innocence, or if she had as a young girl, she'd never appreciated its sensuality.

He pulled back for a moment, dazed, staring into her eyes with such wonder.  "I never - " then his eyes flicked sideways at something over her shoulder.     

"
Christophe
?"  She heard from behind her.

Chapter Eleven

Dee stiffened as an arm came around her waist and pulled her back.  The dream illusion was instantly shattered.  Cold rock under her feet and Xavion's hard arm were indisputably real.  He spoke close to her ear.  "You've made it very difficult for Christophe to obey me."

"I'm sorry."  She tried to stay calm but the naked terror in Christophe's eyes was contagious.  "It's my fault, Xavion," she said.  No matter what the punishment was, it would be better to accept it herself than to watch Christophe suffer.  "I made him do it," she added, and was surprised by Xavion's soft laugh. 

"That's precisely your purpose here, Wendee," he said as his hand slid down from her waist to cup her pubic mound lightly.  Then he squeezed, and her body shivered with the desire her flirtatiousness had stirred.  Christophe shut his eyes.  "You must pursue your nature," Xavion went on calmly, "but Christophe must follow orders, regardless of provocation.  Isn't that right, Christophe?"

"Yes, Xavion."  Christophe kept his eyes closed and Dee could see his Adams apple bob as he swallowed hard.

"So.  To the punishment," Xavion said, and Dee wondered frantically what it might be.  Xavion's erection was pressing against the cleft of her buttocks and she wondered if he'd take her again, to humiliate the boy.  Christophe's kisses had aroused her incredibly and despite her tenderness for the boy, she almost wished Xavion would.

But he didn't.  Tony and Nick stepped from behind Xavion and grabbed Christophe's arms, leading him to a point on the wall where manacles were attached.  Christophe's trembling submission frightened her more.

Xavion was gently massaging her pubis with the palm of his hand, and Dee had trouble distinguishing between fear for Christophe and pleasure for herself as he was spread-eagled and secured against the cold rock. 

"Blindfold?" Xavion asked.

Christophe kept his eyes shut.  "No."

There was such resignation in his voice.  A cold fear gripped Dee's stomach.  She turned in Xavion's arms to plead with him.  "Don't hurt Christophe.  I'll do anything you ask.  Just don't punish him for what I did."

But Xavion's eyes were on Christophe and they held a strange light, as though he expected to take pleasure from this disciplining.  Dee wondered fearfully if Xavion a sadist. 

"It will be unpleasant for him, but he won't be hurt," he assured her.

She turned back to find Mack and Josh had entered the chamber.  Xavion looped an arm around her waist again and walked her backwards with him until they were beside the pool.  Then he stepped in and brought her after him, settling her back against him so his hands could access her breasts and the pulsing warmth between her thighs that, uncaring of Christophe's fate, longed to be filled.

Yet despite Xavion's caresses, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the tableau before her.  Mack and the twins had stepped back, watching quietly as Josh knelt before Christophe.

Dee's eyes widened as he removed Christophe's loin-cloth and the boy's penis sprang out.  He was shaking so badly that it quivered erratically in front of Josh's face, and when he reached up to grasp the boy's hips and still him, Christophe cried out.