Peter hated her smile.

Wendy seemed to have a secret in the corner of her lip whenever she would smile and if there was one thing Peter hated it was not knowing something. And Wendy's secret smile was at the top of his list of mysteries, which were few and far between. Yet, her smile alluded him as well as the small little whisper in the crook of it. It seemed to taunt him to no end as if to say he was losing some unspoken game.

Pan hated to lose games, especially games where he didn't know all of the rules. Wendy was simply not playing fair.

At dinner, the blonde sat by the fire that illuminated her frustrating secret smile as she told the Lost Boys the story of some stupid girl in Oz. Peter did not seem to understand this Dorthy Gale or this Oz, it all seemed too structured of a land, not like Neverland. And so, he cut her off mid-story.

"This Dorthy is too stupid to take on the witch lady, Wendy," he sneered, "Your stories are silly."

Everyone grew silent at Peter's words and the camp seemed to hold a unanimous breath for Wendy's retort. Her face flashed only for a moment in upset before she calmed her features, "She is brave."

"Brave, you say?" Pan laughed, "I think you've had enough excitement, Darling. Back to your cage." The boys all shuffled to their feet and each fled to their respective tree houses clearing out the space. Wendy and Peter fights were never allowed to have an audience.

Felix hovered for a moment before he too left the scene.

"Peter," she sighed, "Please, don't be like this...I didn't mean any harm by-"

He lifted his hand to silence her and strode over to his Wendy backing her into a wall. Peter tilted his head at Wendy and his finger went straight to the secret at the corner of her mouth. He had been transfixed with watching it all night during her story. Wendy seemed to freeze under his touch and her eyes darted to his own to watch his every move. If Peter noticed he did not say.

Instead, he just fiddled with the hidden secret of her lip. He wanted to know what she was hiding, what she knew that he did not.

His hands slid into her hair and grabbed a fist full, which he yanked back to look more closely at her lips. "There," he whispered, "what is that magic?"

"It's just my lips, Peter," she squeaked, "Perhaps a dimple."

"No dimple," he corrected her, "I want to know the secret there." He leaned into her face and squinted at her lips. Slowly, as if by instinct, he aligned himself with her lips and hovered there. Peter was so close that he felt her breath hitch.

Wendy seemed to search for a litany of words, but Peter cut her off by pressing her lips against her own roughly. He crashed into her lips and try to steal her secret. The boy searched for the hidden truths that lay in the creases of her lips and he starved for something more.

And all the while Wendy squeaked. At first in surprise, then in disgust and then in desire. While Peter only wanted to know her secret, Wendy's arms searched for a resting place on his square shoulders, her mouth took him in and her body arched into his own.

After several frustrating minutes of looking for her secret and finding none, Peter yanked his lips away from a panting, overwhelmed Wendy. He questioned frustratingly, "Why won't you tell me the secret? I don't want to take it from you by force."

"Peter...I don't...I'm confused," she pressed out as her chest rose and fell. In longing she accidentally pressed her body against his, which infuriated Peter. More secrets.

His hand grabbed at her dress and pressed between her legs where she had leaned into him. He wanted to feel what was making her do that to him, what made her push up against him. What he found was warm and wet and made Wendy shiver and whisper his name.

It puzzled him endlessly and his curiosity explored. His hand moved around to map out what was down there but each of his explorations had Wendy mewing for him and begging for more. No doubt she meant the secret, there was more to it then he had originally guessed.

Snarling at her, he pressed his hand into her farther until one finger slipped inside some cave of some kind. He was startled but moreso by Wendy's declaration, "Oh yes, Peter. Use me. Please."

He found it odd she would request something so mundane. He used her everyday as he used all of his lost boys. They were all pawns in his larger game so her request was already granted. But her silly request lit a fire in him to show her just how in charge he was, only he didn't know why.

He forced her back against a tree and continued to explore with numerous fingers the cave that she had between her legs. It made her eyes roll back in her head and her body shook, no trembled. She was afraid of him and that was how he liked his Wendy-bird, after all that was the only reason people trembled.

And then she screamed his name loudly and he felt the cave open up and then clamp down on his fingers. It was magical in nature, he knew it. He pulled away from her in suspicion and watched as she slid down the tree with eyes clenched and her body slick with sweat.

"What happened?" he sneered.

After a few moments of silence, Wendy blinked with embarrassment, "Oh dear, I shouldn't have...you shouldn't have..."

"What? Have you cursed me? What have you done?" He stalked over to her with a sneer on his lips. Wendy cowered in fear from her place on the ground.

"I didn't do anything," she whimpered, "you just owned me...and my body. It's not something anyone has ever done to me before."

Pride swelled in his chest. He had owned her. That was the way people in her land obviously demonstrated ownership and he wanted to prove to Wendy that he was in charge. She could keep that hidden secret in the corner of her lip so long as she understood he owned her. This was his island and his rules. Wendy was no exception.

"Is that how men own ladies in your world?" He questioned.

"Well, no," she blushed, "and yes, there is something greater..."

"Tell me," he demanded and yanked her to her feet.

She hid her face in the crook of her neck and whispered, "A man will lie with a woman by..." She seemed to search for the right words, "by taking his instrument to pee and pressing it into a ladies cave."

It all sounded like a trap to Peter. The cave between her legs was dark and mysterious and could hold many dangers. Besides, he was rather attached to his thingy and didn't want anyone or anything taking it from him. But Wendy had basically told him that to own a woman in her world that was customary. And he would not back away from fear. He laughed in the face of it.

So Peter slammed her against the tree once more and began to unbuckle his makeshift belt. Wendy's eyes widened to saucers and she reached for his hand in panic, "No Peter, you can't. It isn't proper or-"

He glared at her, "Is this not how it is done?"

Her eyes flickered in fear, "Yes, but you don't understand. A lady mustn't..."

His thingy sprung free and he was surprised to see it standing so attentive. An odd swirling began to grow in his stomach, but he tossed it aside as a result of pride. Wendy blinked at him and continued to beg for him to stop. He tuned out her words and stuck his finger between her legs for the cave. Peter had to find it or else he would never accomplish a thing. It slipped in and Wendy slumped back with a groan of his name.

He smirked as be found it and then he aligned his thingy where his finger had been. Wendy blinked back tears and tried to reason with him, "Peter, I can't get this back. It'll belong to you. You don't understand. Don't take it."

"Wendy," he said softly, "You belong to me, so I will take whatever your secret is so no one else can have it," and then he pressed his thingy into her cave.

She yelped in pain and bit back tears, but Peter's eyes rolled back in his head at the sensation. His body froze and he felt himself aflame. So this was what she had been hiding from him all along. This feeling. She was selfish to keep it from him.

His body rocked into hers and seemed to slam their bodies together into one with unrelenting speed. Wendy cried in pain and then screamed in pleasure. Her fingers dug into his back as she panted his name into his shoulder. This only seemed to make Peter move faster. And then she began to whisper phrases Peter didn't understand, but they were laced with unspoken naughtiness, he could just tell.

Finally his body snapped a coil and he shot something into her as she screamed for something or about something.

When they returned to consciousness a few moments later, Peter questioned tiredly, "Why didn't you tell me, Wendy? You knew I'd eventually find out."

"Oh Peter," she said in shame, "I never wanted that to be yours."

"Now I have it..." He gleamed in success, "And, I will remind you everyday, Wendy-bird. Starting now."

And, like a shadow, Peter draped himself over her.

Everyday after she begged for him, but only when he searched for her secrets.