“I don’t need anything,” I say, my voice thick and raspy.
John leans in, his lips grazing my ear, barely a whisper of flesh on flesh. I nearly groan from the carnal promise. “Let me take care of you,” he whispers. “I wanna make you feel good. Please.”
Goddamn him. I’ve tried resisting this man at every turn, tried sparing us whatever fallout is bound to follow if I don’t. There’s no world in which getting involved with me ends well for him. You can’t play with fire and expect to get away unscathed. It’s not a question of whether he’ll get burned, but just how badly.
Digging deep, I search for the strength to deny him—and find none. He’s got the advantage. My head’s been fucked up all day, my usual barriers feel paper-thin, and I’m probably half in the bag. So, when John’s big hands cradle my face as he leans in to kiss me for the first time…I don’t stop him.
Gods help us.
Chapter Fifteen
Hook
I don’t so much as take a breath as John closes the distance, his muscular body rounding over mine. He pauses, his golden eyes holding me hostage, even as he gives me one last chance to stop him. I should, I fucking know I should.
I don’t.
Full lips press to mine, and tingling heat shoots down my spine to swirl in my stomach and straight to my aching cock. I open to him and somehow hold back a groan at the first sweep of his tongue. He tastes like my whiskey and cloves, like virility and vulnerability; a heady combination that echoes a single word in the back of my mind.
Mine.
John fucking Darling. He’s everything I was afraid of and more. Tonight, he’s just the temptation I’m succumbing to, but he has the potential to be my Achilles’ heel, the chink in my armor. And that weakness scares the ever-loving hell out of me.
“Let it go,” he whispers against my mouth. “Everything eating you up inside. Give it all to me.”
The last tether to my control snaps. I fist his hair in my hands, slant my lips over his, and delve into his wet warmth. He moans, and I eat at him like a starving beast, shoving back the regret I won’t rectify. It’s done. John Darling has sealed his fate—whatever that may be.
Fuck, he tastes so goddamn good, but I need more. My hips rock, my aching cock needing the pressure, the friction, but he denies me by breaking our kiss to sit back. The dominant reflex to drag him back to me dies as soon as his hands drop to my waist. John tugs my shirt out from my pants, inching it up as he watches for my reaction, as though wondering if I’ll allow it. I answer by rising enough for him to pull it completely off before I settle back again.
Black pupils swallow his amber irises as his gaze follows the path of his hands on my shoulders, down my pecs, and over the ridges of my abs. The drag of his calluses on my sensitized skin leaves sparks in their wake. When his fingers tease along the barrier of my jeans, I suck in a breath. Clinking metal echoes in the silence as he undoes my belt buckle, then works the button and zipper open.
My dick jumps with anticipation, but I don’t take charge and rush the process like usual. I’ve never let a lover have free rein with me—I know what I like and what I want, and I don’t see the point in tap-dancing around that—but Darling’s not making this just about pleasure. The look on his face and the softness in his eyes gives him away. No one’s ever wanted to take care of me before. No one except this sexy-as-hell man who walks on the right side of the law and shouldn’t have a damn thing to do with me.
And that’s my undoing in this moment. I have no idea what to do with that or how to accept it other than to sit here and let him do what he wants. For now.
Bracing one hand on the chair back, he leans forward and lifts just enough to slip his other one into my pants, squeezing me through my boxer briefs. “Jesus fuck,” I hiss, letting my head drop back.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this,” he rasps.
“Get your fill now,” I choke out. “Could be your last.”
That’s a lie. Unless he changes his mind, I have every intention of corrupting him as often as possible now that I’ve opened the floodgates. But my warning does its job and spurs him on. His mouth finds my neck, his stubble scratching me as he kisses, licks, and bites a path down to my chest. He latches on to my left nipple, sucking and tonguing my hoop piercing. Frissons of electricity light me up with every tug, streaking down to swirl in my heavy balls. Then he kisses his way over to my right nipple and does it all again.
I lift my head so I can watch him worship my body, see my skin glowing red with irritation from the scrape of his rough beard and the suction of his mouth. I’ve never been turned on by sexual marks before, but now I find myself wanting them from John. Something to remind me of all this when his hands and mouth aren’t on me tomorrow.
As much as I wanted to let him run the show, my control is slipping. Or rather, it’s returning. With the way he’s palming my cock and rubbing me from tip to root, all the things I’ve fantasized about are rushing to the surface. Lust is overriding the darkness, urging me to act.
Fuck it. He claims to want this—to want me. If that’s the case, then I’m ready to show Darling how to obey his captain. With one caveat.
“Fair warning: I don’t do blow jobs and I don’t bottom. If that’s gonna be a problem for you, we should stop this right now.” At the last second, I add, “It’s nothing personal; they’re just not things I’m willing to do. Ever.”
I try not to think about why I want him to know my hang-ups aren’t about him. Whenever I hooked up with men in the past, I gave them the same warning so they don’t expect shit out of me that’s non-negotiable. But I’ve never given any kind of explanation to spare their feelings. Jesus, I’m going soft. Metaphorically speaking, since I’m currently hard enough to pound nails. Forget a cold shower. If he does want to stop, I’m going to need a damn ice bath to get this thing to go down.
A slow, sexy smile curves his lips. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m willing to do both. And by ‘willing’, I mean I’m willing to beg for the pleasure of doing both if I have to.”
Fuck. Me. The thought of Darling begging me to fuck him is enough to send me over the edge. Plowing my hands into his hair, I yank his head back to meet my gaze and growl, “On your knees, Johnathan.”
His eyes snap open in surprise, but he doesn’t move to follow my order. His inquisitive nature wants to ask why, after all these years, I’m finally using his full name—the name no one else uses for him, making it mine alone. Mine. It feels fitting in this moment, though fuck if I want to think about why. If I start examining shit, I’ll call this whole thing off and send him away. I can only be pushed so far before I have to push back.
John must realize this because he bites his lip, then answers with an eager, “Yes, Captain.”
As he slides off my lap, he trails wet, openmouthed kisses along my abs. He dips his tongue into my navel before following the dark line of hair that disappears into my boxer briefs. Without missing a beat, he tugs them and my jeans down to mid-thigh. I grunt in glorious agony when my cock springs free to bob against my stomach.
John gazes at my thick length hungrily, his tongue darting out to slick his lips as one of his hands encircles the base. Pre-cum leaks from my tip. Peering up at me from beneath his lashes, he dips his head and laps it up with the flat of his tongue. I suck a breath in through my teeth, his first contact like the lick of a flame. Not enough. Want more, so much more.
“God, you taste good. Like saltwater and sin.”
My voice is gravelly with need when I answer. “Then stop fucking around and swallow my cock already.”
He gives me a mischievous smirk. “Aye-aye, Cap’n.”
Just as I’m about to berate him for being a smart-ass, he makes good on the promise and swallows. Me. Whole. Fuuuuuuuuuuck! I’m so deep inside his mouth, his nose is mashed into my lower stomach, and the head of my dick is lodged in the tight space of his throat. I’ve never been sucked down so completely. It�
�s fucking heaven. Warm, wet heaven.
He withdraws slowly, maintaining tight suction, his tongue dragging along the vein pulsing on the underside of my cock. The frenzy of sensations is making me go insane, my grip on the armrests bone-crushing as I fight for control.
As much as I want to think of this as just another sexual escapade, I know this is different, if only for the fact that John’s on his knees because of his hero complex and inexplicable desire to take care of me—whether I want him to or not. Which I don’t. Except…it stirs something in me I’m not familiar with; something that makes me want to do right by him, too. Or at least, not be careless with him.
Which is why I’m keeping my hands to myself. We haven’t talked limits or boundaries, what gets him off versus what turns him off. If I let go and dominate him the way I’ve imagined, I could end up taking things too far or taking them in a direction he’s not comfortable with, so I need to keep my alpha instincts in check. But goddamn it, he’s not making this easy.
He sinks down on me again with a hum of pleasure that sends vibrations zinging straight to my balls. “Look at you,” I rasp. “Taking my cock like a fucking pro.”
That thought has me wondering just how much experience Darling’s had that he’s this good, which makes me think of him with other men, which makes me instantly murderous, and I have to mentally shake those phantom images before I say something I regret. Like make him swear he won’t so much as look at another man ever again.
He pops off my dick to swirl his tongue around the head, then he dips the tip into my leaking slit. My hips jerk, and a tortured grunt slips out before I can stop it.
“You’re holding back.” His tone is a mix of accusation and disappointment, even as one hand jacks me off with the other rolling my balls. “You don’t have to hold back with me.”
Curling my body up, I loom over him and grab his chin, my thumb and fingers gripping his jaw tightly. “Be careful what you wish for, Johnathan. There’s rough, and then there’s me. You slip the leash off my beast and I’ll use your mouth like my own personal fuck hole until I’m good and spent.”
“Yes, that,” he says, honey eyes glazing over. “I want the real you, not some watered-down version of you. Let yourself go. Please, Captain.”
Jesus Christ. The more I learn about this man, the more perfect for me he seems, which I remind myself is stupid. There’s no such thing. He has to have a flaw somewhere, something that’ll put a dent in his shiny packaging, and the day I find it, this godforsaken hunger for him will finally go away.
But today is not that day.
Muttering a curse, I surrender to this clawing, aching need and crush my lips to his, demanding his submission in return. I’ve never kissed someone so savagely, never craved a kiss this desperately. I’m beginning to suspect John Darling of dark magic and lust potions. Our tongues twine and fight against each other in a war for dominance. He shudders on a moan, and I swallow it down like he’s about to swallow my cock.
Shoving to my feet, I fist a hand in his hair and grasp my aching shaft in the other, aiming it at his face. “You need me to stop, you pinch my thigh. Hard. Got it?”
The idea of being too lost in how he feels to notice if it’s too much for him scares the shit out of me. Almost enough that I consider putting a stop to this right here and now. But John’s choosing this, and I’m going to trust him to give me signals. Because I’m a selfish bastard who wants this more than I should.
“You won’t hurt me,” he says with confidence, briefly shedding his submissive role. “I won’t let you. I promise.”
Giving a quick nod, I take a deep breath and succumb to the overwhelming lust crashing over me. “Open,” I command gruffly for the second time tonight. As soon as he obeys, I plunge inside to the hilt, sliding into the back of his throat once more. When he swallows around my engorged head, my eyes nearly roll into the back of my skull.
“Jesus fuck.”
I pull almost completely out, then hold him in place as I work my hips at a punishing pace. The sight of his lips wrapped around my cock and the way his watering eyes stare up at me in dazed pleasure nearly makes me embarrass myself, but I clench my teeth and manage to hold out, needing this to last.
When his hands rise, I brace myself to feel the pinch on my thigh, but it never comes. Instead, he fondles my balls and reaches around to dig his fingers into my ass cheek, spurring me on. “You want more? I’ll give you more. When I’m done, you won’t be able to suck another man’s cock without wishing it was mine. Only mine.”
I ride him harder, if that’s even possible. My breaths are ragged, my skin slicked with sweat, and the gorgeous John Darling has strings of saliva dripping from his chin as I fuck his mouth like I own it. I’ve never seen anything so goddamn hot in my life. Wait. “Take out that bat you call a cock and jerk yourself off. But you’d better be quick about it, because if I come first, you won’t be coming at all.”
John moans, approval written all over his face. In seconds, his jeans are shoved over his hips, and he starts jacking his magnificent dick like it’s offended him. There. This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and now there’s no more holding back. My climax bears down on me like a runaway train, and I’m giving it the green light.
“You’ve got ten seconds, tops. Better hurry, big guy.”
And goddamn is he big. My gaze is transfixed to his fist sliding along his thick shaft, fast and rough, the flushed crown glistening with pre-cum. I’m ready to burst at the seams, and watching him is only building that pressure more and more with every passing second. Pulling him off me, I tilt his head back with a yank on his hair.
“Stick out your tongue,” I grate. He does, and I start jerking myself furiously over the open invitation. “One of these days, I’m going to bend you over the nearest surface and bury my cock so deep in your ass you’ll still feel me days later.”
That does it. John groans as long ropes of cum paint the peaks and valleys of his chest and abs. So fucking hot, this man. And then I’m just as gone. A string of curses leaves my lips as I come on John’s tongue, marking him with every hot lash I give him. Mine.
When I’m completely spent, my hand relaxes in his hair and shifts lower to cradle the back of his head. I feel a tug behind my ribs as I watch him lap at the remaining drops of cream on my cock like a contented cat until he’s swallowed every last bit.
Bending down, I whisper in his ear, “Good boy, Johnathan.” I feel him exhale on a shudder, a sigh of satisfaction from hearing he did a job well done. From knowing that he pleased me. Killing me. Absolutely killing me.
After pulling my pants up and tucking myself back in, I hand him my shirt to clean himself up, then I settle back into the chair. I don’t know what I expected him to do after that, but I sure as hell didn’t think he’d remain kneeling between my legs and rest his head on my lower stomach.
I tense up at the unexpected intimacy and almost brush him off. But then my hand finds his head and I start to relax as something in me shifts. I feel lost and found all at once. Lost in an unfamiliar territory that I have no idea how to navigate, but somehow, he found me—the first person to successfully scale my walls to get a glimpse at what’s behind the iron curtain.
Releasing a slow breath, I rest my head back and melt into the chair. “Thank you,” I say on a barely audible whisper.
His response is just as soft but filled with conviction. “Always, Captain.”
Something in my chest clenches. It’s an echo from our past. The first night we met, when he insisted on taking care of me then, too. John Darling is an anomaly. No one’s ever gotten me to give in to them before, yet he’s managed it, time and time again. Even crazier is that every time he does, I find myself grateful.
I never realized how taxing it is to be the untouchable Captain Hook. Not until John forced his way through to the man underneath. A man whose name was stripped from him half a lifetime ago when he was just a kid.
I might not be able to resurre
ct that long-dead part of me, but as I stare up at the ceiling, sifting John’s silky hair between my fingers and feeling his warm breaths on my stomach, I wonder if it’s not possible to lay down the weight of who I’ve become. At least for a time. At least when I’m with him.
Chapter Sixteen
John
This morning, I got a coded text on my burner phone letting me know I have something at our drop location. Before I went undercover, my team and I decided on a place where I could pretend to go on a run and pick up small items without risking an in-person meeting.
As I jog through the seedy streets of Neverland, past businesses sporting bars on their windows and very few vertical surfaces not covered in graffiti, all I see are the beautiful things. The sound of a little girl’s giggles drifting down from an apartment window above me. A dog happily chasing the birds that his owner is attempting to feed with scraps of bread. The way the vandalism looks like vibrant artwork in an outdoor gallery illuminated by the sun’s rays.
I can’t help it. I’ve been wearing these rose-colored glasses the past seven days. And since I can’t go around smiling like an idiot as JD, Pirate Prospect and Heartless Badass, once I’m in the safety of the loft it’s almost impossible to keep the stupid grin off my face. James does his best to ignore it or he rolls his eyes, but I’ve caught the corner of his mouth quirking up the tiniest bit when he thought I wasn’t looking. And that feels better than if I’d won millions in the North Carolina lottery.
I’m probably shooting myself in the foot by crossing the line with him. I know there are a hundred-to-one odds of this ending any way other than me going down in flames. The thing is, I can’t bring myself to care. Being with him is like…I don’t even know. I’m not eloquent enough to put it into words. I just know that, for me, it feels inevitable. Like a part of me has been holding out hope that something could still happen between us. And the second our lips met, I sighed with relief, like a decades-long wait had blessedly come to an end.
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