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Scarlet Waterfalls

Copyright 2019 Dee Garcia


*Please note that the events of this scene follow the previous outtake featuring Hook and Tink titled “The Lore.” You don’t have to read it to understand what’s happening, but you may want to. ;)


Tremble - Nicole Millar

An hour later...

Those bastards didn’t make it out alive.

While I both relished and indulged the Fae, completely bypassing the bloodlust of immortality in the process, my slightly intoxicated Captain handled the rest. He left two drained, and the other with his head hanging by a thread. Not quite as brutal as Peter, but still…whoever finds them is sure to remember that image until they take their last breath.

What can I say? We warned them, right?

Not my fault they mistook us for a pair of fools.

With their bodies left strewn in the alcove, Hook and I made our way back to the spooktacular festivities. The party looked as though it were really just getting started, but we had no intention to stay for much longer. Another dance or two, then Callan was grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the newly replenished stash, and then we took off for the hotel.

Which brings us to now...

Judging by our current state, you’d think this is the first time the man ever got his hands on me. Frantic touches, relentless mouths, he rams me into the door of our room, keeping me upright with the weight of his body as he rummages through his pockets for the entry card.

“Don’t drop the bottle,” he reminds me. “I intend to lick that off your body.”

A strangled moan is the extent of my reply. All he had to say was lick and my entire core clenched at the thought of it, visions of that night on the dining room table slamming into me like the tsunami of an orgasm undoubtedly awaiting me.

Callan hums appreciatively. I’m not sure if it’s in response to the moan he just swallowed or the fact he’s found the key. Without a word, he jams it in the slot, all but throttles us through the door, and sends me flying onto the bed. The bottle slips from my grip on impact and rolls to end of the bed, wedging safely between the mattress and the footboard.

“Close call,” he chuckles, stalking toward me with that predatory look in his eyes.

Chest heaving from his assault, a salacious smile spreads across my face. “Very.”

Said bottle goes forgotten, though. He doesn’t reach for it and neither do I. He just stands there at the end of the bed, devouring me in a heated once-over.

The aftermath of that stare? God, it crawls up from the tips of my toes and settles at space between my thighs, pulsing in time with my heart beat.

Scratch that, it’s not even a simple pulsing.

My clit throbs, luring a mewl from the back of my throat as the ache continues to spread. Eyes clamping shut, my hands fly to my thighs for some sort of purchase, nails digging restlessly into the leather of my pants.

This is what he does to me. Obliterates anything that isn’t him in seconds flat and just...tantalizes me. Consumes me. Makes me crave him to a maddening degree.

“I don’t even know where to start with you,” he muses, adamant hands ripping my legs apart, yanking me toward him just slightly. “How about this tempting little outfit of yours? I’ll be happy to see it go.”

I’m barely listening, caught up in the anticipation, but manage to ask, “Why?”

“Because it’s turned one too many heads tonight. The way it makes you look...” A playful scoff and a soft shake of his head follows as he lowers himself over me, and buries his face in the crook of my neck.

“And what exactly is that?”

That wolfish grin of his spreads against my skin. “Like sin, baby. Pure-fucking-sin.”

“That would be your fault, remember?” I counter, nails raking up his back. “Besides, you’ve made it clear you have quite the thing for the new me.”

“Oh, I do, I love it,” he coos. “Loved you in those wispy, frilly dresses, too, but immortalized Tinksley, oof,” the tips of his fangs graze the curve of my neck, “killer. And that’s the problem; every bastard who looks at you sees sex appeal. You’re a mouth-watering little morsel they all want a piece of.”

“And yet, all I want is you, so who gives a fuck?” I toss back, locking my arms around his neck. “Now tell me, is it the leather that does it for you, Captain?”

A deliciously dark laugh vibrates against me. “Mmm, maybe. Know what definitely does it, though?”


“Bare Tinksley.” He doesn’t just say it, he growls it, pulling me closer, inhaling me deeply. “Completely bare, at my mercy.”

“We can make that happen,” I breathe.

“Oh, it’s happening,” he chuckles again, slowly reaching out for the bottle. “Like I said, I have every intention of pouring this on your body and licking my way to your delectable cunt.”

Fuck. Me…

My core clenches tighter as that image plays in a vivid reel. “Let’s get in the bath,” I blurt, quirking his brow curiously.


“‘Cause you’re about to make a mess, that’s why. Easy clean up.” My lips curl in a smirk, more still when he gives me this impressed yet equally impish look.

“Are you saying I’m messy?” he questions.

Nodding surely, I urge him off of me with a firm shove at his chest. “Definitely. Now go get in the bath, Captain,” I whisper, fingers deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt. “And that’s an order.”

Once the last button comes undone, he shrugs the dark material off his shoulders and steals me off the bed, locking my legs around his waist. “Demanding little thing you’ve become,” he purrs.

“Damn right. Impatient, too.” I lean into him, lips hovering over his. “Bath, now, Cap.”

His expression darkens wickedly. “You’re so royally fucked right now, my little pixie.”

“Mmm,” I grin, “just the way I like it.”


Setting Tinksley down on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, I draw the bath water and quickly admire our new surroundings.



The tub is an enormous marble sphere, floor to ceiling mirrors lining most of the perimeter around it. I catch her stare in one of them, bottom lip caught sensuously between her teeth.

Spinning around to face her, I take the whiskey bottle from her possession and place it on the thick edge of the tub, pulling her into me. “Clothes off, baby girl.”

“Same goes for you, Captain,” she counters, fingers working the hooks of her corset. “Get naked.”

Doesn’t take me nearly as long.

By the time she unhooks the last prong and allows the forming material to fall at her feet, I’m already dropping into the hot water with the bottle firmly lodged in my grip. “Keep going,” I urge her, pulling a long sip as I take her in.

Her pretty little nipples pucker almost instantly. Could be from my piercing stare or the cool temperature carrying through the suite, but either way, my cock kicks between my legs at the sight of them, rising further and further at attention as she shimmies the leather down her silky, ivory legs.

Moments later, she’s joining me in the water. Climbing into my lap. Taking the bottle for a long sip of her own. All the while, those tropical irises never break my hold.

“Easy there, love,” I warn, but she eases back unaffected, breathing through the burn rolling down her throat.

I’m expecting her to pass it back thereafter.

Expecting being the keyword—but oh how far off I was…

The little minx has me rock hard in seconds. That sinister grin I’ve come to love splits across her lips, and then, then she tilts the bottle at just the right angle, allowing its contents to spill on her chest. Amber rivulets drip down her tits, a bead or two accumulating at the rigid peaks of her nipples.

My mouth waters, tongue lashing out to wet my lips in anticipation. Most of the whiskey has already made it into the water, but I go in like a man starved, lifting her enough to lap up what remains of the trail glistening down her torso. At the valley of her breasts, I veer off to one globe, pulling a drenched nipple between my teeth.




Above me, Tinskley hisses and thrusts a hand into my hair, holding me in place as her head lolls back.

Grinning against her, I move to the other side and repeat, a wandering hand sliding between her legs from the back. The pad of my middle finger skims through her heat, drawing another harsh hiss between her teeth.


Mmm, shit is right, baby, ” I plunge the digit inside her, “so wet for me already.”

“Not already. I’m always wet for you,” she counters, dropping her heavy-lidded gaze on me as she tilts the bottle once more, unleashing an amber waterfall.

Like a perfectly honed reflex, I’m withdrawing and urging her upwards, my tongue on a mission to catch as much of the whiskey as possible before it cascades into the water. Satisfaction shows itself, a gruff hum lodged deep in my throat around each swallow. Amber spirits have always been my go-to, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t taste better off of her, that I didn’t feel utterly intoxicated and horny as fuck by the time my mouth becomes level with her pretty little pussy.

Again, reflexes. My hands fly to her ass, squeezing each globe in nothing short of a death grip before pulling her toward me. Whiskey continues trailing down her skin and into my mouth, but I’m not worried about collecting it. I’m worried about turning her cunt into a pulsing, dripping mess.

Won’t take long, really. Tinksley’s body responds to my touch like no woman ever has before. It’s as if she were made for me and, judging by the way our lives were so abruptly merged together, I’d say my theory holds more validity than either one of us think.

She was oblivious and naive, then frail and broken. And I made her this.

I made her mine.

“Your mouth is just…” she trails off, legs trembling as my tongue continues its vicious assault on her clit, swiveling side to side.

Dragging my gaze up, I catch her attention rapt on something behind me. Whatever it is, it’s aiding me in bringing her over the edge. That’s when I note the mirrors behind her…

She’s watching me eat her cunt as she stands before me in the tub, watching herself succumb to the pleasure building in rapid succession. My dick throbs at the visual, begging for relief from this cruel form of torture as if I didn’t have a slick trail of her essence dripping down my chin right now.

“My dirty little voyeur,” I grate, nipping her clit with purpose. “You like watching me eat your pussy?”

“Y-yes,” she moans, grinding said pussy in my face. “But… But…”

“But what?” Suck

“But I-I...I want to watch you fuck me.”

Your wish is my command.

If I could clock it, I’d say it’s a total of five-point-five seconds; a literal dash of movement. That’s all it takes for me to fly out from beneath her, spin her around, and bend her over.

The bottle slips from her grip and shatters on the tiled floor as her palms meet the stone edge of the tub. The clash almost heightens the hiss sucked between my teeth, the crazy thrum of her pulse too.

My stare is stuck on it, hypnotized by the slope, how that deep bluish vein jumps beneath it at just the right angle.

Kind of like how she is right now.

Tinksley in this specific angle is death, every time, in all the best ways possible. The way her pussy looks stretched out around my cock…

Her ass.


My chest hits her back, grip keeping her spread as I press myself against her. “I want this ass one day, Tinksley. All of it.”

Her breath hitches as my thumb lapses that hot little hole. “You can have it,” she breathes, prompting me to chuckle into her neck.

“I wasn’t asking for permission... I’m telling you I’m expecting it, and you’re going to beg me for it.” My tongue starts up her neck, tracing the enticing vein that runs along the column as that image springs in my mind.

A deep inhale, her scent calling to me like a siren, forcing my hearing on the erratic, lust-filled tempo of her heart.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

Thump, thump.

My fangs extend at the wanton beat, the very corners of my vision darkening in taunting crimson veil. I can all but taste her already...

“Mine,” I growl, latching onto her neck with a need more fierce than even breathing.

The second her unique taste blasts over my tongue, I’m humming in bliss, clamping my eyes shut as I relish her so intimately.

“Harder,” she moans, wrapping a small hand around my cock from behind. “Suck harder.”

Not the first time she’s asked me to nearly tear into her neck. Rough is her new middle name these days. She loves that shit, comes harder than a freight train if I’m balls deep in her cunt while I feed on her.

I oblige, yet still manage to draw a surprised breath between her lips as I remove her grip and slide inside her, fingers flying to her clit.

“Oh, God, yes. Yes. This…” Her dark head falls forward, giving me the most perfect view in the mirrors before us.

Blood pours down her shoulder blade to her chest. The harder my hips piston, the harder my latch seems to embed itself, unleashing a faster flow. Between the wet strands of her hair, I note how the now scarlet waterfall spreads into singular trails, beading at her nipples just like the whiskey. On top of the slaps resounding from our skin, the water sloshing about, and the strangled moans erupting her throat, their dripping on bath’s edge is quite prominent too.


Drip, drip.


“You make me want this all the time,” she pants, pussy tightening around my shaft. “What have you done to me?”

“Loved you,” I sigh after easing back. “I’ve loved you like no one else.” With blood dribbling down my chin, I keep at it, stare bouncing between the image right before me and the one reflected in the mirrors. She’s going to come, and I’m going right after her.

This shit right here is sensation overload.

The sights, the sounds, the smells...


“You what, love? Are you about to come all over my dick?” I taunt, slapping her clit around an almost punishing thrust that fills her to the hilt.

Yes…” Another gasp, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror.

It’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

And it’s about to get hotter.

Swiping a finger over my lips, I collect all trace of her essence—both arousal and blood—and slide the digit into her mouth.

Tinksley locks her lips around it and clamps her eyes shut, gifting me another balls-straining moan.

“I need you to come, baby girl,” I warn, right there on the goddamned edge. I’m nearly gritting my teeth, holding back my release until I feel her let go. “Give it to me. Let me hear you…”

A few more desperate thrusts, rabid fingers working her clit, and it’s a done deal. It’s a good thing the walls are thick, otherwise the rooms beside us might be concerned for her well-being.

I’m not too far off. The roar that rips from my chest as I empty myself deep inside her cunt sounds absolutely volatile.

But then again, that’s exactly how she likes it these days.




All consuming.

The kind of fucking only her dark, kinky Captain could deliver.

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