Peter Pan watched Jean move around the camp fire in a certain grace that left him wanting her.

It was common for him to watch her with the darkening gaze of his emerald green eyes.

He sat on a rock, elbows relaxed on his knees while he admired his Queen turning on her feet, her arms above her head as her eyes closed, her hips swaying lazily to the guile of beating drums and filtering noise made by the whooping of the Lost Boys.

Pan exhaled sharply, glancing from her to see his boys getting more and more wild as the celebration continued. He should have felt the same celebratory feeling, behaving like the wily beasts before him but instead, there was a different beast yearning to come out and play with the delicate flower.

Jean wore a knee-high brown dress, stitched of loin cloth and adorned with white lilies and purple tulips, the collar of it dipped low enough to send a man's imagination flying; her brunette hair was untamed and wild as her smile, the long locks falling down her shoulders and a few strands fell over her eyes, which met Pan's in an alluring gaze.

Pan could feel his heart racing with the flashing images of what they had done in the past-all that moaning, sweat, and fire...she was in his blood, and there was no way she was ever getting out of his sight.

One of the boys, Devin, offered to take Jean's hand. Jean took it and they, along with the other boys, danced wildly, doing cart wheels, back flips, somer saults and jumping up and down like a group of cave men having just discovered fire.

After half of an hour of the wild festivities, Jean left the group, sauntering over to Pan whose back straightened when he realized she was gracing him with her presence.

Beads of sweat rolled down her collar bone and and the dirt on her face made her look so much more wild and free.

Pan didn't think his attraction to Jean could get any stronger, but he was wrong. The lust that consistently bore itself inside of him seemed to roar like a furnace fire when Jean stood in front of him; she parted his legs with her knees, her body standing between them like the exotic goddess he viewed her to be.

"Why are you not dancing?" Jean asked softly; the softness of her voice had toned down the lowest timbres of her voice, quaking Pan's lust even further. While he sat on the rock and looked up at Jean, Pan smiled when she touched his face with her hands, those pale, slender fingers brushing the skin just beneath his jaw line caused him to smirk.

She may have been towering over him, but the submission of her gesture proved mainly one thing to him. Pan may be King of Neverland, but more importantly; he was HER King.

"Do you not like dancing with your friends?" Jean asked quietly, looking a little more concerned than curious.

Pan took her hands in his and she slowly lowered herself on her knees; she felt the earth caress the bones of her legs in the dirt, the grime, the leaves and sticks beneathe. Jean placed her hands on the rock, on either side of Pan's legs and she leaned into him. Pan met her the rest of the way and joined her in a long, wet kiss; when she parted her lips so to invite him in to deepen the kiss, he was more than happy to oblige. Jean exhaled sharply with a soft, satisfied sigh when he placed his hands behind her neck, moving her towards him so he could press his mouth against hers harder...rougher.

The two became breathless when they parted and Pan was pleased to see the lust in her eyes reflected his own.

"I prefer to watch you dance," Pan told her in a low voice.

"You know what comes later, of course." Jean told him.

"Of course, i do. I'm the one that came up with the idea." Pan stated, smirking at her. With relish, he said, "The hunt. But I don't think hunting pigs and mermaids is as fun as finding you tangled in my bed sheets."

Jean felt her face become red and heated. She loved it when Pan talked dirty to her. The words themselves were enough to make her blush, but that damn accent of his caused a ripple effect of stomach-born butterflies and thoughts of sweaty, naked bodies, moaning...the works.

Pan was satisfied to see that he had just the same affect on her as she did on him. Even after what one could guess to be nearly decades, they still couldnt quench their lust for each other. That connection they had found a century ago was still very much alive; they could feel it not only in their hearts, but below the waist as well.

"I love it when you talk like that," Jean whispered; she sent him a crooked smile, and Pan smirked right back.

"Mother."

Pan and Jean broke their infinite gaze to see Felix step forward. He, like the other Lost Boy, appeared hot, sweaty, and rambunctious. He'd taken off the cloak and held a spear in his hands, matching the rest of the lot. As though he had been reluctant to break the obvious sexual tension between his bold leader Pan, and the maternal love of Neverland, Jean, Felix (like everyone else) knew that the hunt would come before sunrise. Eager to get started, Felix smiled apologetically.

"What are we hunting today?" Slightly asked eagerly to no one in particular.

"I vote Mermaids." Toodles insisted. "Those little fin devils got it coming tonight!"

"Pirates!" shouted Nibs, waving his spear wildly.

"PIGS!" shouted some of the lost boys.

"Indians!" bellowed another lost boy.

There were so many Lost Boys, it was hard to keep count and names. Some of the earlier boys that had come had either dropped out of the race, out of the sky, off the island or...Jean glanced at Pan knowingly...much worse. Sometimes the boys either killed themselves or killed each other-or became too hormonal and saw Jean as more than a mother, and then that was Pan's doing...or the Shadow. Jean inwardly smiled as Pan sighed lazily, getting to his feet and walking to the fire, smirking suddenly.

"No. I have a better idea." Pan said, smiling widely. With a wicked smile, he looked right at Jean and said, "Her."

The Lost Boys, who had all been wild, eager, and whooping, suddenly stopped and stared horrifically at Jean, then confusedly at Pan. The King was grinning with the idea. Felix looked at Jean and saw that she was smiling too.

"Me?" Jean inquired as if she was slightly offended...or deeply flattered. It was hard to tell sometimes. Like Pan, Jean could be pretty unpredictable.

She sauntered over to Pan, who watched her with a dark intense gaze and he raised his head slightly to prove that he was more than serious. Jean looked up at him for she was about a foot shorter than he, and the glint in her eyes proved to be more mischievous than fearful.

"You think you can hunt me down, Peter?" Jean whispered. She closed the distance between them while Pan refused to back down.

The Lost Boy glanced at one another uncomfortably. They had never seen Mother and Father so close together...the public display of affection was new to them.

"Afraid i might catch you?" Pan questioned. "Afraid of my game?"

"Not at all." Jean uttered, smirking. "I'd love to play."

She bent down at the waist, untying her black boots and slipped them off carelessly to the side, kicking them behind her. Jean leaned in, touching her lips just beneath his left ear lobe and whispered in the most sultry, tempting voice he'd ever heard, and only where he could hear her, "You may be in charge here and make the rules, but we both know just how much i like to bend over backwards to win."

Pan closed his eyes, as though he was having to physically restrain himself from taking her right then and there as he thought of all the times they had fun in his treehouse. The love biting, the nails raking down his back...the sleepless nights of dirty games and wrestling her to the floor just to hear her give into him and the love making that would come soon after.

Pan watched her slowly step back, smirking at him.

"Watch when the hunters..." Jean whispered as she looked at all the boys then gazed at Pan solely. "Become the hunted."

In five seconds, she took off running, leaving nothing but a deep set of female foot prints, and a fragrance of tulips and sea salt water behind. Pan glanced at the boots on the ground and realized why Jean had taken them off; she ran faster bare foot. Clever girl.

"You know what to do, Boys!" Pan shouted, raising a fist. "Let's play!"

Caught up in the challenge of finding 'Mother', the aggression of sharpening sticks and hunting for kicks, the boys all shouted in appraisal and war as they all took off at first in one direction then split in different paths to find the girl in the brown skirt.

[Some minutes later]

Jean hopped over fallen tree logs, sprinted through the vast forest, kicking up dirt, leaves, pine cones, and anything else that her feet could come in contact with. She kept a steady pace as she ran fast and hard, the branches flicking her harshly in the face and leaving bitter, stinging scratches on her arms and legs and face. Jean hardly spared the pain any mind; all she knew was that she had to create enough distance between her and the boys so she could take a breather, maybe even take a quick sip from a creek before climbing up one of the trees.

Jean tripped over a rock, hissing when she glanced to see that it had been a sharp one. She gritted her teeth, slapping her knees of the moss and mud then continued at half the pace, waiting for the worst part of the annoying pain to leave her. Jean glanced up at the trees to see the dark night sky, stars bright as ever, and the full moon above even brighter. She grinned as she heard something splashing nearby and recognized she was near the Mermaid Lagoon.

Jean sighed and steadily walked forward, following the noise. The mermaids were talking, floating above the surface. They were beautiful, all of them, in an undeniably annoying way but Jean was more than secure in her own beauty. She stepped out of the clearing and upon seeing her, the mermaids dipped out away from the shore, looking at her with as much suspicion as she deserved.

For the most part, Jean was a peach. But her time here in Neverland had brought out a more feral side. She more or less was the hunter but she was not as dangerous as Pan. What made her dangerous was that she accepted Pan's actions; even when he killed some of the Lost Boys, drowning them in Mermaid Lagoon. She could be the only person who could stop pan from doing something so foul as to killing boys but she could also goad him into doing it too. But that was what made her so terrifying.

"Jean..." The mermaids all whispered.

Jean simply acknowledged them as she jogged slightly to the shore, getting down to her knees and ducking her head under the water to drink in the salty, bitterness of the sea. It only made her more thirsty but for now, it would do. Jean pulled her head out of water, shaking it left and right and sighed deeply. The chase was going on as long as she could prolong it; Pan would regret sending the boys after her; they would be hunting til morning for her.

"Playing a game?" the mermaids asked in unison.

"Yes."

"They finally turned against you?" asked one of them with a sniveling smile.

"No." Jean replied.

"Damn." said the same mermaid, disappointment clear on her face and through her words.

Jean chuckled.

"Love to chat, but i am on my way." Jean said sarcastically. She gave them all a wink and then ran off.

The mermaids watched after her and amongst themselves, they argued how hard it was to hate her and yet they loved her just the same. That mischievous look on Jean's face, and that crooked smile were to die for. Jean was a peach...but she was rotten to the core.

[An hour later]

Jean sat high on a large, thick tree. She crossed a leg over the knee, peeling an apple with her hunting knife as she glanced down to see the flickering lights of burning torches moving around her tree. The Lost Boys had found her trail, but were lost up unto this point.

"Mother is a good hider." Toodles remarked.

"Too good." Slightly stated.

"She's probably still running," offered Nibs.

"Maybe she's not running at all." Felix stated. He slowly looked up at the tree. "We all know how much she likes to climb trees. Maybe...she's up there."

"Or she's swimming in Mermaid Lagoon," suggested one of the newer lost boys. His name was Jake...or Jock...something with a 'J'. Jean smirked proudly when Jake or Jock was instantly pushed against a tree and Felix was threatening the boy with a spear to his throat.

"Think you're gonna find her there? That's like the tenth time you've brought her up...like that." Felix said unhappily, and the last words were spoken with disgust.

Jean cocked an eyebrow, losing the appeal for her apple and become most involved in the conversation below.

"You like her. Don't you?" Felix interrogated slowly.

"Well, she's kinda hot."

"She's beautiful," Toodles and Nibs said together.

"But what do you want with her, I wonder." Felix pondered loudly and that protective voice of his came out. Like a protective son over his mother. Jean was smiling as she heard Jack become a hot mess of stutters and frantic babbling as he tried to explain that he was only trying to find Jean to finish the game, but apparently, he'd been a hound dog for the past couple of weeks and Felix, who had become most loyal to Pan and a devout servant of the Queen, was prone to act out of allegiance than friendship.

"You're treading on thin ice, Jock." Felix threatened. "Heed my warning. Mother Jean isn't a trophy to be won or a treat to be gained. You will be careful with your words next time or i will skin your back and make it a rug, do you understand me."

Damn, Felix.

Jean raised her eyebrows, impressed, and snickered softly. When the intimidation was finished and Jock appeared to have messed his pants, the scouting party continued as the other boys were eying Jock more carefully. Jean began to move but when she turned her head, she opened her mouth to scream in surprise when a body was blocking her way.

A well-defined, toned arm immediately reached out and the hand connected to it placed its palm over her mouth and shoved her back against the thick bark of the tree. Jean's wide eyes relaxed when she saw that it was Peter Pan; the hunger in his eyes, however, brought about a different tense reaction from her. He glanced down, tilting his head to the side to watch his Lost Boys begin running to a newer, fresher sound and they were out of the clearing.

Jean smiled behind Pan's hand, wondering why he was still muffling her when the 'threat' was long gone. Pan slowly looked at her and she knew his intentions immediately. He replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing her with much wanton and fervor that could possibly be transferred through a kiss. His lips were soft, but needy, and Jean only sharply inhaled when he pulled her down by her legs, her back now on the branch instead of being against the trunk. Their passion became their communication as not another word was spoken, even when Jean playfully protested, pushing off Pan's advances to move his hands under her skirt. After batting him off a few minutes, Jean was restrained as he took both her wrists in his large hand, placing them above her head in one slick movement.

Pan spread her legs the placement of his body between them and with the free hand, he spared no hesitation in placing his fingers along her panty line, sliding them onto the soft material of her underwear to feel the heat radiating through her underwear. Jean inhaled sharply when he cupped his palm over the only barrier between him and her longing.

"You've been taunting me all night." Pan uttered in a hoarse but surprisingly calm voice.

"Actually," Jean began with a lick of her lips, "I've been working you all *day*." She snickered darkly but was silenced the moment he slipped his hand inside her underwear and slid one finger between her the lips of her flesh.

Her face was strained in an attempt to be silent. After all, the boys below were still hunting for her. Pan smirked-she so desperately wanted to win the game. Something they both had in common; they were incredibly competitive. Jean squeaked and restrained what might have been a needy moan when he teased her entrance, moving his finger tips so lightly in a bit of a 'walk'. Pan watched her intensely, wanting to savor her look of desperation, desire, and aching for him; how he enjoyed this more than anything in the world. It was almost worth the growing throbbing sensation in his own loins that only seemed to become more painful when he thought of how easy it would be to take her now, to feel himself deep, deep inside of her. The slickness of her wet pussy, the tightness of her core.

God, he wanted her.

"You're about to lose, Jean." Pan whispered against her neck. He kissed the small area just behind her ear, adding, "they'll find you, not by sight but by ear. You will feel everything i want you to feel. You'll scream when i want you to scream."

Jean felt her core tighten with the need of him. And this was just foreplay. Just his words and voice alone could make her wet and needy.

He let go of her wrists and Jean immediately reacted. She was on Pan with his back against the tree, moved there roughly by the hard push instigated. Jean straddled his lap. She was a wild one, Pan already knew. But the sight that followed soon after only made him want her more. She quickly reached around her shoulders, pulling off her brown dress, and revealing the tanned flesh underneath. Soft shoulders, tanned skin, and the perky nips of round breasts greeted Pan and the longing became an ache.

"If i am going to lose," Jean offered callously. "I'm bringing you down with me."

Pan said passively, "Not very sporting of you."

"I don't play fair, remember." Jean returned mischievously.

"No. I know too well you like to play dirty." Pan replied, smirking at her.

Jean placed her hands around his neck and pushed his head back hard against the bark of the tree; Pan grunted but it passed when she shoved her mouth on his. She kissed him so hard it almost hurt, their lips in a battle for victory, tongues in her mouth. Pan felt her sides, touched her back, touched her stomach then her breasts. He wasnt gentle as he took in their size-perfect handfuls. He kneaded them hard and roughly like she always wanted, and moved his thumbs around her nips and then over their peaks. Jean moaned once in resolve, and then another time in excitement. Then she moaned in his mouth.

Pan wanted her now more than ever. And he wanted her closer. Wanted her skin on his. As though reading his mind, Jean stopped the kiss and began lifting his shirt above his head; he raised his arms so she could finish the deed effortlessly. Jean's hands greedily washed over his body, touching every part of him: His defined chest and abdomen, his broad shoulders and toned back. Her fingers raked through his hair, and with a vigor, she pulled.

Pan growled, "Easy, love!"

Jean returned breathlessly, "Fine, then pull my hair."

Pan chuckled and he took a handful of her hair and pulled it back so her head yanked stagnantly; using this to his advantage, he pushed Jean on her back and he was in control. Jean was moaning, and the sound was music to his ears. He took one of her hands and placed it between their bodies, down where he was feeling hard and pulsing. Jean smiled when she knew what she was doing to him.

"I want you, Peter." Jean mumbled.

Pan smirked when his name rolled off her tongue.

"I want you now." Jane said.

He reached under her dress, and Jean gasped when he pulled and ripped her underwear off, tossing it up to the other branches. Pan got onto his knees, watching a squirming, writhing Jean move desperately, her hips lifting involuntarily to make him work faster. And it was working.

Pan pulled down his pants and drawers, freeing himself. Jean opened her legs eagerly and he moved in between them. Jean nearly cried when he moved on top of her ever so slowly, taking his time.

"Peter." She growled.

"One moment, babe." Pan mused. Despite his own longing and heavy breathing, he was enjoying her vulnerable state, taking his time to watch her wiggle under him. Jean wasn't having any of that. She lifted her hips to him; her hands moved down to reach his cock and Pan, who was surprised and impressed at her intiative, gasped when she pushed herself onto him...or did she move him inside of her? It was an odd moment where he wasn't sure which had happened but the slickness of her opening welcomed him easily and took all of him inside without any kind of resistence. But the moment he was in her all the way down to the base was when he felt the tightness circle his shaft and he moaned...loudly.

He might have wanted her more than he had imagined. Immediately, he began to thrust inside of her. Jean echoed his moans, her legs closing around his waist and making her entrance tighter and he could feel her walls contracting, working with him and against him at the same time. Pan and Jean had many moments where fucking was almost a pleasant sin of pleasure and agony, but at this moment, the two could feel more agonizing ache and need.

"Kiss me." Pan told her in a commanding voice.

Jean roughly kissed him, her fingers snaking behind along his back side and her fingernails digging. He grabbed her hips, pushing his weight onto her; their hips aligned, their chests pressed together-god, it was glorious.

"Harder, Peter. Please..." Jean begged. "I want it to hurt."

Pan gripped bark of the branch underneath Jean and slammed into her harder, rougher, not holding back as the lady desired and loudly insisted. Her back arched, and her eyes flashed with hunger and avarice. Pan feverishly kissed her swollen lips, shrouding her moans to a muffle inside his mouth; her fire was captivating, and only he could control her flame.

"You are something else..." Pan muttered when Jean was begging for more. But god knows he wasn't disappointed. Now he could give her everything he wanted, everything his mind had imagined from day one. That litte minx that was pleading and begging for more would get her wish, all right.

"I've been waiting to do this for a very long time," Pan hissed into her ear.

Jean grunted when he pulled her up by her hair and pushed her down onto her belly, against the rough bark beneathe them. He placed his hands on her back, tracing her scratches given by the dragging and fucking on the branch, but she would only get more now. Pan moved his hands in front of him, in between her legs to play with her clit and she let out a whimpering moan, and a pleasurable cry when he slipped his fingers in, curling them so they met contact with her sensitive of pleasurable spots.

"That's right, Jean. Moan for me...let it out, babe." Pan whispered, smirking broadly when he watched her knuckles become white as she gripped the branch, her head leaned to the side, and her body squirming.

Pan grabbed her hips, steadying her and then pushed inside her pussy without any warning or signs. Jean inwardly moaned; her insides clenched and her muscles contracted around him. Pan gave her no time to become accustomed to him and he moved in and out of her, roughly, sparing her of any rest or recuperation.

God, she felt good. So wet. So needy. So...hungry. Jean was a greedy little girl, her voice lost to moans, or inaudible words-or made up words period. She said his name, calling out for him. Jean pulled herself up when she reached a strong, tidal wave of climaxes and her orgasm recently had brought out an interesting animal. Jean didn't stop Pan from pushing inside of her, pumping her so fast.

Still, the beast inside had awoken and Pan was caught off guard when she suddenly turned tables on him and by that, Jean had pushed him off the tree and they fell a few branches down onto the forest floor. The pain of hitting the ground didn't seem to phase either of them as Jean got on him, mounting his cock with her legs sprawled, straddling his hips.

"Ooh, look at that," Pan said, his voice rigid and breathless. "Daddy's girl is all grown up and wants to-mmmm..."

Jean interrupted him as she moved him inside of her; her hips grinding and moving. She was riding him, and riding him hard. Pan felt his own back arch, the pleasure overriding any sassy comment he could provide; Jean's hand lined with his throat, her fingers titillating the notion she could do with him what she wanted and not even he had the mind to stop her.

"Jean...don't stop..." Pan told her, his voice sounding desperate. Jean, who was panting and gyrating on him, had no intention of doing so. She steadied herself with her hands on Pan's chest, her fingernails creating little marks as she felt like she was climbing a mountain and the thought of reaching that mountain and not being able to peak would be more unbearable than anything before.

"Moan for me." Jean commanded.

Pan looked at her skeptically despite the wanton expression on his face. It was the first time she had given such a command, but that tone was almost too much for him to handle-talk about meeting his own match.

"I'm not..." Pan began but Jean caught his objection with a kiss of her own; it was dominanting, it was passionate, and the fiery response left Pan in the palm of her hand. The King of Neverland had a little bit of submission of his own, and secretly craved it and now, Jean was giving that to him. She was still pumping him inside of her, the fast rhythm became a slow, steady, hard grind and it was driving Pan crazy.

"Tell me you are mine." Jean ordered darkly; her eyes flashed in a powerful embodiment of the Queen of Neverland. Pan could not have been more aroused by Jean than he was currently.

"You want to come, don't you?" Jean breathed, almost exhausted, but determined.

"Yes."

"You don't want me to stop..."

"No..." Pan uttered; his jaw clenched when Jean leaned back and began touching herself as she continued grinding him, riding his cock slowly, keeping him hard and pulsing and throbbing but still unable to reach his full climax. It was becoming painful. Jean tempted him further as she lowered one hand to her clit, teasing herself in front of him while the other touched her breasts, taking one in her hand and then teasing her own nipple.

Holy fuck..She was killing him.

"Jean..." Pan muttered, breathless, panting, needing, wanting her.

"Tell me you want me...tell me you are mine...tell me..." She grinned darkly, "That i have won this game. If you do, i will let you come inside me."

Ah...that's her game. Jean wanted to win the game-the game of hunting and sex. Peter Pan knew at this moment that he had met his own match, his own little temptress and manipulation.

"Jean, please..."

"Say it."

Pan began to protest but then he watched her move her hand from her sweet, hot center to his shaft; her fingers lined around him and began pumping the rest of him that she didn't put inside of her. He was reaching over the peak but each time he came close, she stopped or would slow her grind to an agonizing pace.

"Say. It." Jean uttered dangerously, her lips pronouncing every little letter spoken.

Pan growled, "you win."

"Hmm?" Jean hummed. "I'm sorry, what? You have to say it louder."

Sexually frustrated to a point he was almost pissed, Pan responded, "You win, Jean!"

Jean beamed and she rode him to kingdom come, faster, harder, rougher and when he was almost to his peak, Jean kissed him. Hard. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands grabbing her ass and rolling her hips so she could ride him at the exact pace he wanted. Jean moaned loudly as she met her own peak, intensified when he arched his hips into her so he had pushed deep inside her core and hit her g spot. Jean and Pan were little moaning fits until the rush of the orgasm began to slacken and their bodies began to relax.

Panting. Sweating. Exhausted.

Jean touched her lips along his throat, her tongue lightly licked him like a little kitten and Pan smiled tiredly at her unique display of affection. Pan placed his fingers underneath her chin, tilting it upwards so their lips met and he kissed her softly but deeply.

"Have i ever told you that one day you may be the death of me?" Pan asked.

"Is that your clever way of saying you love me?" Jean asked, smirking at him.

Pan smiled at her and the two of them knew just what he had meant by those words. He loved her very much and she loved him. He was her King; and she was his Queen. Forever and ever.

[A few moments later]

Jean and Pan walked back to camp, fully dressed, but still very tired. Jean held his arm as though they were a married couple strolling through an avenue of rich markets and venues. When the arrived at camp, the Lost Boy were not back yet.

"Still looking for you, i imagine," Pan answered to Jean's silent inquiry.

"Can't imagine why," Jean mumbled. She glanced around. "You were screaming my name by the end of it-I thought they might have heard you."

Pan gave her a look.

"What? It's true." Jean stated. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." She smirked. "I like hearing you scream."

Pan couldn't dignify that with a response since the Lost Boys were heard coming back. God knows they were louder than sin. Pan and Jean broke eye contact to see Felix looking a bit distraught, or maybe angry. He led the pack back home and Jean smiled at him as he approached her.

"Why the long face, son?" Jean asked curiously.

Felix sighed: "We couldn't find you."

"Yeah," said Toodles. "Where were you hiding this entire time?"

"In a tree." Jean answered. Then a small smirk appeared as she said, "And for a moment, on the ground."

Pan smirked back at her.

All the Lost Boys started groaning and arguing when they all realized that Felix's theory had been right all this time and they could have won the game had it not been for Jock who had more than insisted they search Mermaid Lagoon for the Queen of Neverland.

Jean smiled. Ah, it was good to be Queen.