#sleepinghook

Briar Rose stood on the tips of her toes to reach his neck. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders and neck, pulling him close in a desperate embrace. Hook, sensing her urgency, steadied her with a firm grip around her slender waist, his hook carefully positioned to avoid any accident. He pulled her flush against his body, the heat of their skin mingling through the thin fabric of their clothes.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of him—black pepper, bergamot, and a hint of sea salt—filled her senses, transporting her to moments of shared intimacy. It was the same scent that lingered on his pillow, his scarves, and the collar of his coat. Each breath she took made her knees weak, and her body ached in places she hadn't known could ache.

Her lips, soft and warm, began to trail kisses along his jawline, nipping gently at his skin. Hook gasped, his body tensing with a mix of pleasure and surprise. “Careful, darling,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Keep that up and I’ll forget how to be a gentleman.”

Briar Rose pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. “I’m trying my very best to behave, but you’re making it impossible,” she retorted, her eyes gleaming with challenge.

Hook’s smirk matched hers as he shrugged off his coat, the deep crimson fabric folding like spilled wine as it hit the floor. He began to unfasten the rest of his wardrobe, but the hook stayed—gleaming at his side like a promise he hadn’t yet broken. He didn’t set it aside. He didn’t need to. Not with her.

All he needed was her.

Briar Rose, her breath hitching with anticipation, unthreaded her bodice. The fabric loosened, then slipped from her shoulders, and the dress fell away, pooling at her feet, leaving her naked and vulnerable. Hook’s gaze roamed over her body, taking in every curve, every line etched into his memory like a map he’d never dared to follow. His eyes darkened with desire.

She did the same. Her gaze drank him in, slow and reverent. Her fingers brushed the coarse hairs on his chest, then traced the scar that curved along his ribs, the tension in his abdomen, and the curve of his neck, warm and inviting. He was solid beneath her touch, all heat and muscle and scars. Her touch was light, but it burned.

They pressed their bodies together, skin against skin, the heat between them almost scorching. Their kiss was passionate and deep, tongues entwining in a dance of need and want. Hook's hand explored her body, his touch unyielding and seductive, while his hook rested gently against her back. He traced the curve of her spine, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, pulling her closer, pressing her against his throbbing length.

Through their passionate dance, they made their way over to his bed. Briar Rose, with a sense of ownership and desire, pushed Hook flat onto his back and straddled him, her thighs clamping down on his narrow hips. She leaned forward, her bare skin brushing his with deliberate intent, the soft swell of her breasts pressing against the hard planes of his chest. Her tongue traced a slow, teasing circle around his nipple before flicking it with a wicked rhythm that made his breath catch. He groaned, low and guttural, his body arching toward her like a man starved.

Then she claimed his mouth fiercely. Her fingers tangled in the wild length of his dark mane, tugging just enough to make him gasp again. He was hers now, and she knew it.

Hook's hand roamed her body, first cupping her breast, then gripping her hip, guiding her movements. She rocked against him, the throbbing ache building between them, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, the scent of their desire, and the heat of their bodies.

Briar Rose, feeling his swollen member press against her, began to grind her wet cunt along the underside of his shaft, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body. She moaned softly, her hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm, teasing them both. His chest heaved as he whimpered, “Oh, Rosie~,” almost like a beg, his voice trembling with desire. “Beg prettier, sweetheart—I know you can,” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes. He responded with a breathless, “Please, my precious Rosie, I need you. I'm aching for you,” his words a mix of desperation and longing. Her giggles filled the air as she complied with his plea, reaching down and guiding his cock into her warmth, a loud moan escaping their lips as he entered her, her walls stretched with a slight burn to accommodate his size, the sensation intensifying the pleasure that coursed through them both, filling her completely.

Hook's grip on her hip tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he met her thrusts, their bodies moving in sync. His hook rested against her thigh, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat of her skin.

She began to move, slowly at first, then faster, each rise and fall in a rhythm of need. Her palms pressed firmly to his chest, grounding herself against the solid heat of him as urgency bloomed into desperation. Briar Rose’s head tipped back, a soft cry escaping her lips, her hair cascading down her back as she rode him, her body slick with sweat.

Hook’s gaze never wavered. He watched her like a man witnessing divinity. His eyes were dark with hunger, yes, but beneath it, something deeper. Reverence. Devotion. Love so fierce it threatened to undo him.

As his senses were overwhelmed and his eyes glazed over, he let his head fall back, feeling his climax building with each passing second. She could sense his mounting pleasure, and with a teasing slowness that bordered on torture, she slowed her movements to a near stop. The abrupt change caught him off guard, his eyes widening in urgent disbelief, as if his heart had momentarily ceased to beat.

A whimper escaped his lips, soft and broken. As a desperate plea for her to continue, he thrust his hips gently, a silent encouragement. He reached for her, voice frayed and trembling, “I need you—don’t tease me now.”

But she only giggled, eyes gleaming with mischief, her fingers trailing down his chest like a promise withheld. “Then take me~”

That was all it took.

Driven by a desperate hunger that bordered on madness, he flipped her over, his body taking control as he positioned himself above her, ready to reclaim the intensity they had shared. His one hand pinning her wrists above her head. His hook trailed down her body, the cool metal sending shivers of pleasure through her. He kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth, his body moving against hers in a relentless rhythm.

Briar Rose wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging into his back, urging him deeper, harder, and faster. Hook complied, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more merciless. The room filled with the sounds of their passion, their breaths coming in sync, their bodies moving as one.

Her nails raked down his back, not to hurt but to mark. A desperate, aching gesture that said more, that said “mine.” He groaned, the sting of it driving him further into madness, into her. And she clung to him, wild and wanting.

With a final, powerful thrust, Hook sent them both over the edge, their bodies shuddering with release. Briar Rose's inner muscles clenched around him, milking him for every last drop of pleasure. Hook collapsed on top of her, his body spent, his breath ragged.

They lay tangled together, breathless and trembling, their hearts pounding in tandem and their bodies slick with sweat. Hook didn’t move—didn’t roll away or retreat. Instead, he nestled closer, his body heavy with exhaustion, his head resting gently in the cradle of her bosom.